Saint's Fall (Fallen Saints MC Book 3)

by Winter Sloane

  He checked his gun as he walked to the gate that would lead to the kitchen. Saint didn’t have time to grab more ammunition, but he was relieved to see he had a full clip.

  Saint jumped over the small gate with ease. As he neared the house, he could hear voices. Olivia’s soft and rational voice collided with Brett’s loud voice. It sounded like the soon-to-be-dead fucker was hurling abusive language to her poor ears. Saint tried the kitchen door, ready to shoot at it, but it swung outward with a tiny creak.

  “Did you hear that?” Brett suddenly said. His voice came from Olivia’s living room.

  “Hear what?” Olivia did a good job of sounding puzzled. His woman knew he was coming. Saint wouldn’t be surprised if she was doing her best to delay him.

  “Brett, let’s be reasonable,” Olivia said, probably trying to grab Brett’s attention again.

  A loud smack sounded, and Olivia’s soft cry of pain pushed him over the edge. He stepped out of the kitchen only to see Brett about to hit her again with the butt of his pistol. Fury like he’d never known took control of his body. Blood dribbled down Olivia’s cheek but she spotted him. Relief filled her features. Brett looked at him, big, mean, and apparently a little drunk because he swayed a little on his feet.

  If Brett had any brains at all, he’d point that gun at Olivia again, hold her captive. The fucker actually thought he could take Saint because he pointed his gun at him. Brett’s contorted expression reminded him of an ugly troll. He noticed Brett’s aim was slightly off and his fingers were shaking. Saint bet this miserable excuse of a man had never shot anyone before.

  “Who the fuck are you? Another biker my bitch fucked?” Brett demanded.

  “I’m not your bitch,” Olivia told him. “And Saint’s mine just as I belong to him. You’d wish you were half the man he was.”

  Saint smirked. He was a good shooter. Saint shot the fucker right in the head. He didn’t miss. Olivia let out a little scream. Brett collapsed to the floor, a glaring red hole right between his eyes. Saint tucked his gun and went to his woman.

  Pulling out the switchblade he always carried, he cut her ropes. For a second, he remembered Olivia drawing away from him that awful night he’d pummeled Grizzly to the concrete. This time, he didn’t need to worry about her being scared of him. Olivia flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around him.

  She was shaking like a leaf. Saint kept his knife. He closed his arms around her tiny frame, stroking her back. Saint murmured to her in a soothing voice. “It’s all over, baby. Everything’s all right. The fucker’s dead. He’ll never be able to hunt you down or hurt you ever again.”

  Tears filled her face. Olivia unraveled, weeping in his arms. Strong, beautiful Olivia. If Saint had the power to turn back time, he’d make sure she’d never endure such an episode. In the present, he could only offer her comfort.

  Finally, she spoke, “I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you. You saved me twice now.”

  “That’s my job. I’m yours, after all, remember?”

  She hastily wiped the tears off her face. “I’m so sorry, Saint. For our stupid fight. For everything.”

  Saint shook his head. He was just glad she was back in his arms and she was safe. “We both needed time. You were right. I learned in your absence that my life feels fucking empty without you.”

  “I missed you terribly,” she whispered. “Nights were hard without you. I love you, Saint. I always have.”

  “I love you more than you can ever know,” he murmured, meaning every word. This woman was going to be the death of him, but she owned his heart and soul. He never wanted to spend another day without her being his old lady. An idea struck him. Saint knelt in front of her and took her hands in his.

  “Olivia Hawkins, you’re the fucking keeper of my wild heart. Make me the happiest man on earth by being my old lady.” The words tumbled off his mouth naturally.

  Olivia stared at him for a few seconds, like he was insane. Maybe Saint was. Brett’s body lay a few feet from there. This wasn’t the most romantic scenario, but Saint couldn’t wait any longer. Nearly losing her today filled him with fear. Saint had been in worse scenarios before. He and his MC had been cornered like animals. Death waited on their doorstep plenty of times but never before had he felt such gut-wrenching terror as he did today.

  Seconds passed. Saint wondered if he made the wrong move. Had he moved too quickly? After all, it would take time for Olivia to recover from this ordeal. She wouldn’t feel safe for a very long time, but he wanted her to know he’d always be her anchor. Her rock.

  “Only you would make a marriage proposal after killing my ex,” she said with a laugh.

  Hearing her teasing voice made him relax because if she could make jokes, then she’d be just fine. Saint had no doubt about it. His old lady was stronger, made of nerves of steel.

  “Is that a yes or a no? Because if you refuse me, I’ll try again. I won’t stop until you’re utterly mine,” Saint said.

  “It’s a yes, of course.”

  “I don’t have any rings to offer you now, but we’ll pick them out tomorrow morning.” Saint rose to his feet.

  He cupped her cheek and gave her a kiss that left them both breathless. Saint trailed his hands possessively down her curvy, luscious body. His dick got hard as their bodies came in contact. Saint couldn’t wait to throw her in his bed and ravage her all over again. He wanted her to scream out his name and beg him for his dick. She couldn’t seem to have enough of it. They’d fuck until kingdom come, until dawn arrived. Then he’d make her breakfast. He’d take her out to pick their rings. Then they’d get hitched. There was no point waiting.

  “It looks like you’re having deep thoughts,” she mused when he pulled his mouth from hers.

  Saint told her.

  “Sounds like a great plan.” The front door burst open and in came Devil, holding a shotgun. He stopped when he saw them.

  “Oh, shit. Iron,” she said, running toward the other biker’s side. Saint watched her check for Iron’s vitals. She asked Devil to call for a paramedic. That task done, Devil walked toward him. A shit-eating grin sat on his face.

  “I guess I’m not needed here,” Devil said.

  Saint snorted. “Brett wasn’t much of a threat.”

  He said those words off-hand, but the truth was Brett had come this close to truly harming Olivia. Saint had let his anger, his petty feelings overcome him, and he’d let his guard down. Devil looked at the body next to them.

  “The paramedics can’t see that.”

  Saint had to agree.

  “I’ll call Chains and we’ll take care of it,” Devil offered, looking from him to Olivia. “Your girl looks like she could use some rest.”

  “I doubt she will. She’d probably stay next to Iron’s side until she’s certain he’d make a recovery.”

  “You sound jealous,” Devil observed.

  “How many times do I have to tell you, Saint? Iron and I are just friends,” Olivia said rather grumpily. “Actually, I’m even thinking of setting him up with my friend, Jean.”

  Devil chuckled. “Another nurse would be handy. Olivia’s certainly been an asset for the club.”

  “I can hear you both, you know,” Olivia pointed out.

  “It’s a bad idea,” he told his woman. “Iron would never settle down. Your friend would only be in for a world for heartache.”

  “Well, I managed to tame you, didn’t I?”

  That brazen look in Olivia’s eyes only perked up his dick.

  “It’s the other way around, baby. I told you I’d win you over, and I did,” Saint said, approaching her.

  They could both hear sirens in the background. The paramedics would be here soon. Saint knew Devil and he had to drag Brett’s body out in the yard, keep it out of sight from the paramedics. Maybe he’d push the armchair to cover the bloodstains on the carpet.

  “Gag. Can you two be any less corny?” Devil grumbled. “Olivia, where do you keep your plastic bags? We need
to hide the body.”

  Olivia grabbed large black plastic bags from the kitchens without hesitation.

  “Looks like you two are a perfect match,” Devil said.

  “Shut up and keep working,” he told his brother.

  “I’ll meet them outside, delay them a little,” Olivia told them.

  By the time they dragged Brett’s sorry corpse outside and covered the stains, the paramedics entered the house. They gave him and Devil curious looks but were wise enough not to say anything. They knew who really owned this town. Nonetheless, Saint would remind them to keep their mouths shut.

  “I’ll ride with Iron,” he said. “You two need some time alone.”

  Once Devil, an unconscious Iron, and the two paramedics were gone, he looked at his future bride. “So, you and me, shower sex?”

  Olivia let out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t we have a body to get rid of first?”

  “My old lady’s ever practical. Don’t worry. I’ll call for a cleaning service,” Saint reassured her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Are you sure you don’t want to make a quick stop to the bridal gown store?” Destiny, Devil’s wife, asked Olivia. Destiny and two other women married to MC members were helping her get ready. “Devil mentioned he wouldn’t mind waiting.”

  Olivia eyed her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing a simple and strappy white A-line dress. Melinda, who worked as a stylist, did her hair, so it fell in artful curls down her back.

  “I’m good,” she assured Destiny. Olivia had spoken to Destiny a few times while she was at the club. She liked the other woman immensely and had a feeling they’d be fast friends in the future.

  “If you say so. Father Michael just arrived,” Destiny said. “Are you excited? You look so beautiful, Olivia.”

  “I am excited,” she admitted. Olivia couldn’t believe this was all happening so fast. When morning arrived, she woke up tucked in Saint’s powerful arms. Brett’s break-in the night before almost felt like a fading dream. An inconsequential event. Would her father be pleased she was marrying Saint in an actual church? Olivia didn’t know why she insisted on it. Saint had managed to pull some strings and had arranged for a ceremony for this afternoon.

  “Let’s go,” Destiny said.

  She nodded. They emerged from the makeshift dressing room. In moments, Olivia stood in front of the paneled, double oak doors that would lead into the chapel. The women flung the doors open. A piano started. To her surprise, Iron was the one playing. The big tough biker apparently insisted on being here for the wedding despite the fact the doctor insisting he stay for a few tests.

  Rowdy MC members occupied most of the pews, but they fell silent as Olivia and her entourage entered. She only had eyes for Saint. He stood at the end, the priest by his side. Saint looked dashingly handsome in his rented tux. She was surprised he made the effort, but she would’ve married him in his patched leather jacket if he wanted. The MC was his life, his family. Olivia was now part of that same family. For a time, she thought of the MC as nothing more than a violent group who had a hell of a time breaking the law. Spending time with Saint and the bikers altered her perception drastically.

  Like any devoted family, the MC had Saint’s back and now hers. They were fiercely loyal to each other and would never let each other down. That was one of their finer traits.

  She walked the aisle, heart swelling. Saints had guards posted all around the church. Their enemies wouldn’t catch them by surprise this time. She reached him. Father Michael started speaking, but she barely heard the words. All she could focus on was her man.

  Saint only had eyes for her, too. It was as if the entire world ceased to matter. He said his vows clearly and resolutely. Olivia stumbled on them a little, too lost in Saint’s penetrating and possessive gaze. She wouldn’t wait to get out of this sweltering church and be back in his bed.

  She lifted her finger and let Saint slid the plain white gold wedding band over her ring finger. Olivia did the same for him.

  “You may kiss the bride,” Father Michael said.

  Saint grabbed her bare shoulders and kissed the hell of her. Warmth and the familiar taste of him exploded in her mouth. He even added a little tongue action. Some bikers hooted and made crude jokes.

  When Saint released her from the kiss, her heart thumped wildly in her chest. “You’re mine now, Olivia. Mine to cherish and protect until my dying day. I fucking love you.”

  “I love you, Saint,” she returned.

  They stayed a little for pictures but soon left the church. Once outside, they got on his bike. Good thing she picked an easy dress to wear. Olivia wrapped her arms around him, inhaling the familiar scent of him. Saint rode for the clubhouse, where they’d be holding the reception. Thirty other riders trailed behind them. Destiny and the other women had made a just married sign and pasted it on the back of Saint’s Harley. The whole town could see that Saint was now hers. That she belonged to him.

  Once they arrived at the clubhouse, the other MC members started to drink and unwind. Devil had managed to hire a caterer at the last minute, so there was plenty of food and drink for everyone. There was even a decent, four-tiered wedding cake at the tables.

  Saint sat with her at the head of the table. She could immediately tell her husband was growing impatient with the festivities. Olivia grabbed his arm and dragged him to dance. They’d stacked up all the tables and chairs to the walls, so the floor was bare. A slow song started. Saint settled his hand on her waist, then on second thought, dropped it to her ass. He gave it a squeeze.

  “Behave,” she chided, but she couldn’t keep her voice stern. Not when Saint leveled his hungry gaze on her. He practically looked predatory.

  “How long do we have to stay here? I can’t wait to get you in my bed and tear that dress off that sexy body of yours,” he whispered in her ear.

  “After this song,” she promised.

  His eyes gleamed with intent. Right on cue, the song finished. Saint put his hands on her waist, then swept her into his arms without warning. The other bikers gave catcalls as she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.

  “This is a little embarrassing,” she whispered. Secretly, Olivia was thrilled to bits. Saint carried her all the way upstairs, to his, their room.

  Saint dropped her on the bed carefully, like an expensive present he couldn’t wait to unravel.

  “It’s time to taste my bride,” he said with a cocky grin.

  “Come at me, baby,” she answered, already halfway out of her dress.

  ****

  Saint groaned as Olivia, naked and tempting, lay back on the bed. Olivia had nothing on save the black G-string he gifted her. She spread her thighs open, a welcoming invitation. He was out of his tux in moments, nearly ripping at the fabric. He needed to have his wife, now. Sure, they’d had plenty of sex before they got married, but this was different. Olivia was truly his now, his legally bound wife.

  He crawled on top of her. Saint crashed his mouth to hers, inhaling the familiar, sweet scent of her. He kissed her neck, the hollow between her collarbones. Saint sucked her tits, loving how her nipples hardened at the wet suction of his mouth. He trailed his hands down her body, his touch proprietary.

  Saint kissed his way down her ribs, her belly button. He hooked a finger into the band of her panties. One yank and the fabric tore.

  “Hey, I liked those,” she protested.

  She didn’t complain any more after that. Olivia couldn’t, not when Saint put his mouth to her pussy. He blew at her pink folds then proceeded to eat her up. She squirmed and moaned. Saint held her down as he went to work. She tasted salty and sweet, divine. He tongue-fucked her then sucked on her clit.

  Olivia lifted her hips off the bed as he focused on making her come. Saint pushed two fingers inside her cunt and she shattered, coming all over his fingers. What a sight to see. Part of him still couldn’t believe she finally belonged to him, in every sense of the word. His partner, his equal. His old
lady.

  Saint dragged himself up and positioned himself at the edge of the bed. She knew what came next because she scooted lower. Saint hefted her legs over his shoulders. His cock felt like a steel pipe between her legs.

  “Fuck me, baby.”

  She was truly a woman after his own heart. He grinned, guiding his dick inside her. Saint entered her with one sure push, making her groan. Olivia clawed at the sheets, holding on to them as he began to ride her. His need was palpable, a living storm inside his skin. Each time he entered her body, he owned her a little more. Small payment because she’d held the leash over his heart for so many years.

  Saint lowered himself to her mouth, kissed her passionately. His last push sent her off the edge. Olivia came all over his cock, whimpering, whispering his name over and over again. Saint pounded in and out of her, his strokes relentless. His balls tightened against his body. Saint’s vision blurred.

  It didn’t take long for him to reach climax. With a growl, he filled her tight little pussy with his seed. Saint intended to breed her until she was heavy with his child. Their child. Saint wouldn’t win the best father of the year award with Bonnie. With Olivia, he wouldn’t make any mistakes. Just a few weeks with her made him realize he wanted it all. To keep his MC running and to be a devoted husband to Olivia. Pretty soon, he’d be a father as well.

  Saint settled next to her, pulling his bride close to him. She sighed, resting her head against his chest. He held her close, stroking the line of her back. He liked hearing her purr like a contented kitten for him, loved knowing what buttons to push to pleasure her.

  They were far from done, but Saint decided he needed a few minutes to recover his breath.

  “Ready for round two?” she asked, looking up at him. The love and tenderness in her eyes blew him away completely.

  “Give me a minute,” he said, kissing her on the mouth. “I’m not that young anymore.”

  “Tired so soon?” she teased. “Am I too much for you?”

  “Like hell you are.” Saint rolled on top of her, pinning her arms above her head. “You better be ready, baby, because I’m going to run you ragged. I won’t stop until I put a baby in you.”