Page 91 of Hostile Saint

A little moan echoed from her mouth to mine as I let her taste me.

Other than my chest panting, I held still while she deepened our kiss and moved to get closer to me. Sitting up, she slipped a leg under each of my tense arms, still gripping the bed. Now taller than me, soft inner thighs rested at my sides. Graceful fingers tangled in my hair, pulling my mouth impossibly closer to hers.

She giggled after her bed scooted closer to me. “Tate, you just moved my bed.”

My eyes were still closed and my mouth searching. “Did I?”

Her lips joined mine again before saying, “Would your hands prefer to touch me than the mattress?”

I kissed under her chin, her neck, the side of her mouth. “I don’t trust them.”

Giggle. Her lips pressed to mine. “I trust them.” Kiss. “I hope they are the only ones to ever touch me again.”

My fists loosened…

My hands lifted…

They touched her back…

I held my Pretty Girl…

The rest of the world dissolved as she wholly possessed me.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Being Understood

On the way back from the institute, I had fallen asleep until I heard, “No fucking way.” I opened my eyes to see we were in the neighborhood of the rental house. Lynx was practically leaning over the steering wheel, pointing to something or someone as we got closer. “No fucking way!”

In the front yard of the house were seven dragons I had never seen before. In the driveway were all the drivers, smoking cigarettes and joints as if the surrounding houses didn’t even exist or matter.

Dagger exhaled. “That ugly bastard is quite the sight for this tired man.”

Next to me, Vice had his window down, howling with the biggest smile.

Call of the wild? I guess that’s what you could call it because the leathered men in the driveway faced the car and started laughing and howling to the night sky.

Not bothering to open the garage door, Lynx barely had the car in park before exiting with a huge smile on his face. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

A tattooed man the size of Dagger gave him an aggressive man hug. “Had a drop-off in New Mexico, but stopped by Austin first to,” he released Lynx and peered over his impressive shoulder, “make a ‘pick-up’.” Disapprovingly, he glared at a guy who looked more my age.

This guy had a dragon but wore normal street clothes. As I got out of the car, I noticed he had no cut nor a slew of tattoos that I could see.

When he looked away from the two men acknowledging him, the one who had hugged Lynx growled, “You better get your el ass-o the fuck over here.” The man smirked at Lynx. “He’s still a little butt-hurt over yet another rejection from you know who.”

With very little sympathy, Lynx chuckled, “Art, man-up and stop fucking poutin’.” Then he teased the other man, “Diesel, maybe your sister shouldn’t have named him Artist. I think it has made him a pansy.”

Diesel rolled his eyes. “I told her the name was gay, but she told me that I wasn’t ‘politically’ correct or some shit like that.”

Lynx arched back due to a burst of laughter. “And I bet your pansy ass didn’t argue with her.”

“Fuuuuck no. That little girl got teeth and jaws like a goddamn Pitbull.” He opened his arms and grabbed onto Dagger. “Mother. Fucker. Missed your half-blind ass.”

Now that they were embracing, there was no mistaking their likeness. This man was Dagger’s brother. This was the President of the Redemption Ryders.

Soon, they broke apart and more hugs commenced between the two clubs.

Gazing about, taking in all the interaction of hugs and words of missing each other, I witnessed a true brotherhood between all the bikers. Even though they were from different clubs, the unity was undeniable. One set had a horse on the back of their vests, and the others had a howling wolf. I was still confused about the connection between them but had run out of time to ponder. My shoulder was suddenly grasped before I was yanked away from the car I was standing by.