God, but her breasts rubbing against his bare chest maddened him. He imagined how they’d bounce while he fucked her senseless on her bed. He kissed his way down her neck, releasing her hands. Saint took her left breast in his hand and sealed his mouth over the pebbling bud.
Olivia buckled against him, sinking her fingers into his hair. Saint closed his teeth over the bud, leaving his tiny bite mark there. She gasped, grinding her body against him. He went lower, leaving a trail of burning kisses down her ribs, her round stomach. Saint knelt. Finally, he reached the crevice between her legs. He’d been wanting to taste her here. Saint bet she’d taste like sweet honey.
She parted her thighs wider for him without Saint needing to ask.
“Good girl,” he murmured against her thigh. He blew at her pink folds, loving the way she shuddered.
Saint licked the pink lips before thrusting his tongue deep inside. She moaned, squirming, but he kept his hands on her thighs, holding her in place. He savored the deep, musky taste of her and lapped at her. Saint dragged his tongue to her clit and created circles.
“Saint,” she cried out as he nipped teasingly at the sensitive nub. Saint pushed two fingers inside her tight cunt and hell, did she fall apart for him. Olivia whimpered and came all over his face, the sound sweet and clear.
Saint could get hard again just at the sight of her coming apart, but he reeled in his control. Tonight was all about her pleasure alone. He wanted, no needed to prove to her that her needs suppressed his own. That things between them weren’t just casual. It was fucking real.
He stood back up, kissing her soft lips. She looked down at his cock, a silent question in her eyes.
“Not tonight,” he reassured. “Let me bathe you.”
Olivia allowed him that privilege. There was something intimate about shampooing her hair, soaping her gorgeous body.
“You’re nothing like I expected,” she told him after he rinsed the soap off both their bodies.
“Is that a good or bad thing?” he asked as he found a towel to dry them off.
“Good. I think but I’m scared.”
“Of me? You have no reason to be frightened of me, baby. I’ll never hurt you, not in the million years,” Saint said, cupping her cheek. “You’re mine now, and I protect what belongs to be. Obsessively and fiercely.”
“I don’t belong to anyone.”
Yet, Saint didn’t add. He didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to ruin anything between them. Trust was cheap, fragile, and breakable, but he was intent on winning hers no matter how long it took.
“I’m scared of falling deep and hard for you,” she admitted as they left the bathroom.
“That’s not the worst thing in the world.”
She didn’t answer him.
Olivia padded to what he presumed was her bedroom. She flicked open the lights. This room, he gauged, belonged to the girl trying her best to be an adult, the girl from ten years before. Posters of boybands adorned the pink walls. The princess bed had pink sheets. Stuffed toys were thrown in with the pillows.
“I can’t believe he kept everything intact.”
It seemed to Saint the old preacher had been delusional. Clearly, Olivia’s father still pictured her as his little girl even until his dying day. He didn’t mention his thoughts to her out loud.
“I can’t sleep here,” she finally said. “It’s like a shrine. A creepy one.”
“We’ll go back to the living room. You can take the couch and I’ll take the armchair,” he suggested.
Olivia shut the door to her bedroom. “Sounds like a plan.”
****
Olivia didn’t think she’d be able to get any sleep at all. She was wrong. For the first time in several months, she fell into a dreamless sleep.
Olivia woke to the smell of sizzling bacon. Where was she? Brett never once made her breakfast. Hell, he never used the kitchen. She sat up on the sofa. Her father’s old sofa and the living room swam back to her vision.
Everything came back to her. Her return to Redemption. Bumping into Saint last night. That hot shower scene that made her yearn for more.
“Morning, sunshine.”
She whipped her head toward the kitchen, bemused by the image of Saint wielding a frying pan. Her stomach growled, reminding her that her last meal had been yesterday’s lunch. She padded to the kitchen, only to find Saint had moved the bacon to two heaping plates filled with bacon and toast.
“When did you have the time to do this?” she asked him.
“I didn’t. I asked a prospect to do a grocery run for me. I can give you Gary’s number. He’ll be happy to help you get any supplies you need.”
“No, thank you. I like to shop on my own.” Besides, Olivia didn’t want to owe him any more favors.
He raised an eyebrow at her. Olivia blushed, realizing she sounded ungrateful.
“I appreciate the offer,” she said quickly. “But—”
Saint pressed a finger to her lips. “I understand.”
“Do you?” she asked, quirking her lips. Olivia didn’t know what possessed her to suck on his thumb, but it made him groan.
“Keep doing that and it’ll be my dick you’ll be sucking,” he murmured.
“Who says I don’t want to?” she asked, releasing his finger.
“I thought you wanted to keep things simple between us.”
“I might’ve changed my mind,” she admitted.
“Good. That’s what I want to hear. I got to take care of a little problem back at the clubhouse, but Iron will swing by to take you to work.”
She silently fumed at him. Saint didn’t budge.
“A bodyguard?” she asked, exasperated.
Saint wagged a finger at her. “You’re the one who came to me. So, you play by my rules. I need to know you’re safe at all times. Iron’s a good man. He won’t interfere in your day-to-day affairs. He’ll just make sure you get to and from work safely. Also, don’t forget. My security guy’s coming over to install your system.”
“You’ve been busy,” she remarked.
“Anything for my baby.”
Before she could protest the ridiculous nickname, he tugged her close to her. Their bodies touched. Her skin turned fever hot. She hungrily sought his lips and Saint thrust fire down her throat. She pulled away first, gasping for air. How could she deny this possessive and cocky biker?
Olivia knew she’d reached the danger stage. Saint could ruin her. He could still decide to shatter her heart into a thousand pieces, and she wouldn’t be able to pick herself up again. Yet here she was, taking the risk with him. She was reacting out of gratefulness. Her attraction to him hadn’t dampened over the years but rather, his absence only fueled her lust for him.
“I’m not your anything,” she managed to whisper.
“Yet,” he told her. He kissed her again, slowly and tenderly this time, leaving her speechless.
They ate breakfast in silence. Olivia was surprised Saint was a decent cook. In contrast, she was terrible in the kitchen and usually survived on take-out or frozen dinners. Brett and she hardly ate together because their schedules frequently clashed.
“You’re thinking about him again,” Saint said with a growl.
How curious. Saint actually sounded jealous, but why would he? They were still practically strangers to each other. Last night, they bumped into each other by accident, or had he chased her? Some part of Olivia wished to believe that Saint truly in love with her as he claimed. In lust more like, but Olivia would take what she could get.
“Nothing good, I assure you. I thought back to the meals I had on my own. I’m a terrible cook, so I always order out.”
“The two of you didn’t eat together often?”
“No. He’s usually on his way out to some party or social event by the time my shift at the hospital is over.” She shivered. “I preferred it that way. Only when I threatened to leave him then became violent.”
“The thought of losing you must’ve eate
n him up.”
“It’s not like that. I don’t think he loved me either. I was just another possession to him and he hates losing his belongings. I don’t think he ever saw me as a person,” she admitted. Hearing the truth from her own lips only cemented the fact that leaving Brett was the right choice after all.
“I see you, Olivia. All of you.” His steel-colored eyes captured hers. Saint brushed his hand over hers and leaned over for a kiss she received.
Olivia shut her eyes. Everything faded away at the demanding press of his lips. Saint didn’t kiss. He plundered and consumed. He saw her, all of her. That should’ve scared her a little more, but it didn’t. Her heart beat erratically, and her breathing came out short when he pulled away.
“I got to get going before I’m late for my first day at the hospital,” she said lamely. “Let’s leave the dishes in the sink. I’ll take care of them later.”
“Then I’ll see you soon, baby. You have my number.”
“Wait. When did that happen?”
“I put my name and number on your phone last night, when you showed me Brett’s messages.”
Saint hopped off the stool and grabbed his jacket, which he’d left slung on the arm of the uncomfortable recliner he’d slept in. He blew her a kiss. Her unexpected laughter caught her off-guard. She actually felt good, lighthearted and more like herself for a change. Saint had that effect on her. Going down this road was dangerous, but Olivia knew it was too late to back off now.
Saint had sunk his hooks deep in her.
Chapter Seven
“This will only sting for a little while. One, two,” Olivia started.
She didn’t wait for three. Olivia gave her ten-year-old patient the flu shot. The boy squeezed his eyes shut then opened them. He looked at her in wonder.
“Done?”
“That’s right.” Olivia picked up the bandage he picked, the one with the Superman logo, and pasted it over his arm.
She wistfully watched Todd and his mom leave the children’s clinic. Olivia loved working with kids. For a time, she wanted kids of her own. Brett thought kids were too much work. In the end, not trying for kids with Brett had been one of the best decisions she ever made in her life. She shuddered to think of Brett being a father.
“Help, my husband’s been shot,” said a woman’s voice from the reception area.
St. Luke’s was a small hospital and as Olivia found out three days ago, it was also severely understaffed. No surprise there, given Redemption was a remote country town in Illinois. There were only two doctors on staff, three nurses including Olivia. Dr. Mitchell was on leave today, which only left Dr. Stone on duty. Right now, he was in the ER, operating on a patient. The two other nurses were assisting him with the complicated procedure, leaving Olivia on the floor.
Olivia took off her disposable gloves, disinfected her hands, and quickly walked to the lobby. Running might only send potential patients into a panic. Seeing the young woman with the hulking man who was holding his bloody left hand with his right, she called out to them. It looked like she had to handle this one on her own.
Good thing Olivia had a level head when it came to situations like these and the sight of blood didn’t make her feel queasy.
“This way, to the clinic,” she told them.
Olivia would take care of paperwork later on. Working at a small-town hospital was really vastly different from the private hospital she’d worked at before. The nurses certainly had to pull their weight here. It took her only a day to get used to how things were run at St. Luke’s.
“Olivia, is that you? I heard from Dad you were back in town,” said the young woman as she examined the bullet wound on the man’s shoulder. The guy was lucky because the wound wasn’t deep.
Finally, she looked up and recognition hit her at the sight of the curvy, dark-haired young woman.
“Bonnie?” She shook her head. No time to be distracted. She disinfected the injury. “We have to phone the police if a patient comes in with a bullet wound.”
“Go ahead,” the man grunted. “The cops are under our payroll.”
Olivia finally noticed the patch on the man’s leather jacket. Just great. Another of Saint’s men. This must be Bonnie’s husband. He must be twice her age, then again, she didn’t miss the look of worry in Bonnie’s eyes. Who was Olivia to judge, anyway? Saint must be ten years her senior, or even more.
“Okay.” She took a breath. “Bonnie, have a seat, I’ll need to inform Dr. Stone before I can do anything. Sit tight.”
It took the better part of two hours to extract the bullet from Hawke’s arm, mostly because they had to wait for Dr. Stone to finish with his other patient. Once it was Hawke’s turn, Dr. Stone extracted the bullet with Olivia’s assistance.
After that, Olivia had to tend to several more patients. By the time her shift was over, she decided to look into Hawke and Bonnie. She wasn’t surprised to see two Fallen Saints MC bikers hovering by Hawke’s private room. A while ago, Jean, another nurse, told her the police came by. Olivia had a feeling Saint’s men easily fended them off. She recognized one of the MC men. Iron, the dark-haired and inked biker Saint had sent to keep watch over her the past few days, nodded to her in recognition.
“Heard you saved Hawke’s sorry ass,” Iron said.
“It’s no big deal. It’s my job to look after our patients,” she said.
She had texted Saint a little while back to update him about Hawke’s status. Three days had passed since she had last spoken to Saint. Saint seemed busy with some kind of operation and she was still adapting to her new job. They seldom had time for each other, but once their schedules let up, Saint told her he was looking forward to their first date. Whatever that meant.
Olivia doubted Saint had a romantic bone in his body. The two bikers let her pass. She entered the room.
Hawke was snoozing but Bonnie was wide awake. Bonnie brightened at the sight of her. Olivia took a seat next to her.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“Awful, but that’s to be expected,” Bonnie said with a laugh. “Oh, hold on a second. It’s a call from my babysitter. She’s looking after my son, Dylan.”
“No problem,” Olivia said.
She marveled at the strong young woman Bonnie had become. Years ago, she’d been a little worried the little girl would end up in a bad place. She once told Saint that the clubhouse wasn’t the best place to raise a kid. Bonnie seemed to have turned out pretty decently.
“Good night, baby boy. Daddy and I will see you soon,” Bonnie said. The other woman turned to her. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s perfectly all right. You have a son? That’s amazing.”
“Dylan’s only one,” she said, smiling. “But I wanted to hear his voice and know he’s all right.”
“What happened?” she asked.
Bonnie paused, as if she was considering her next words carefully. Olivia then realized she was prying into affairs that weren’t her own.
“Since you’re with my dad, I guess it’s okay to say,” Bonnie finally said with a shrug.
Wait. What? She only reunited with Saint that one night. What was he doing, going around telling folks they were together? The man was crazy, but then again, why wasn’t she correcting Bonnie’s assumption? I just want to know what went down, she told herself.
“Hawke and I were meeting my dad for lunch when a biker from an enemy rode up and shot at the diner,” Bonnie said with a shiver. “Hawke used his body to shield me. Saint ducked in time. He got away with a graze.”
“Saint got shot, too?” she demanded, her voice a little high. Horrible images of Saint lying on the ground and bleeding out rose in her head. Olivia took Bonnie’s hands in hers and sought her gaze. “Why isn’t he here? Did he go to another hospital?”
Hell. Was Saint avoiding her or something?
Don’t be ridiculous, Olivia reminded herself. Saint probably had another reasonable explanation. To her surprise, Bonnie looked amused. The hu
mor in her bright eyes reminded her of Saint when he was being playful. Recalling how he toyed with her like a predatory cat with its newest toy that night sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. Olivia wasn’t a prey animal. Saint would find that out soon enough.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, a little annoyed. Wasn’t Bonnie worried about her old man? Perhaps Saint wasn’t as badly injured as she thought. Then again, that man could be damned stubborn.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of the situation. It’s just nice, seeing another woman other than myself caring about his well-being. I’m glad he picked you, Olivia.”
“He didn’t pick me,” she said quickly. “What did he tell you? I just wanted his help. We’re not anything to each other.”
Yet, a hopeful voice inside her said. Olivia wasn’t ready for this, for Saint or the warm and fuzzy feelings bubbling inside her whenever she thought of him. Desire certainly. The chemistry between them was off the charts but there was something else, too. The potential for more. Affection, tenderness, but she still found it hard to believe a man like Saint would ever settle down.
Bonnie smiled, as if she could see right through her bullshit. “If you say so.”
“You haven’t answered my earlier question.”
“He said he only got a shoulder graze, but knowing him,” Bonnie said in a halting voice which alarmed Olivia slightly, “Saint hates hospitals. He’d been shot twice this year alone.”
The knowledge twisted her insides into knots. Olivia thought she understood the risks of being with a man like Saint, but a glimpse of his world and its dangers already made her stomach a little queasy. Maybe she was wrong. Olivia might not be made for him after all.
She felt dejected at that thought. God. What was wrong with her?
Saint was hurt, too stubborn as a mule to ask for real help.
Olivia rose to her feet. Determination washed over her. She needed Saint alive. After all, he promised her his protection. That was why she was doing this.
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