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“Mmm, I like that too—more than the nickname.”
He chuckles; the sound is raspy against my skin. “I was wondering why he found you interesting, but I think I get it now.” His hand spreads, resting under my breast. It’s enough to make me squirm, wanting him to touch me there. My nipples silently beg for his attention.
“Why?” My voice is breathless with the anticipation.
“Because, baby, you’re perfect for us. You are for both of us.”
“Even you?” I can’t help but repeat. I know he just said it, but my foggy mind needs to hear him say it again. It’ll mean more if he repeats it.
I’ve barely met the man, but I’ve learned so much in a very little time. Sinner cares for him like no other, and he’s special to me...so that means Saint is part of it too. These guys are a packaged deal if I want one. I need to want the other as well.
“Yeah sugar, even me. I was thinking about killin’ ya when I found out about you.”
I find myself sputtering and attempting to sit up with the alcohol causing my head to spin a bit with the quick movement. I don’t get far though as his large hand pushes me backward, flat against the bed. His statement has me reeling, who says stuff like that?
“Calm yourself. I said I was. I don’t want to anymore.” He complains as if it should make me relax. The man was going to freaking murder me!
“B-but your name is Saint! How can you execute someone with that name?”
He snickers to himself over some private joke while pecking my forehead. “So fucking cute, baby.”
Saint shakes his head, charmed with my outburst. “I do what I want. Sin gave me that name a long time ago, but that’s a story for another time. He can tell it if he wants to.”
“Can we go see him now?” Being around Sinner may make my nerves calm down a bit. I have a self-proclaimed assassin beside me right now; I need time to process everything.
He says he won’t hurt me, but can I trust him? He’s acted a bit senseless ever since I met him. I’d chalked it up to him having the bad boy allure. Clearly, my vision was skewed just a touch.
“Not yet.”
“He won’t mind if I wake him up, I promise.”
“We have to let him get up on his own.” He shoots me down.
“Why? I’ve never waited before.” It’s true too; every time he’s visited, I’ve woken him up. Somedays on purpose, others on accident; regardless, he was never upset about it.
“Because he’s been hurt. Now, how about you take a nap or let me get you naked?” His palm skims lower, dipping just under my waistband. It’s distracting, even after his little truth telling session.
There’s the attraction of him informing me that he wanted to kill me. It’s sickening for me to be enticed by a man capable of such things, but for some ungodly reason, it makes me yearn for him even more. I guess I’m being tempted by the forbidden fruit in a sense. The edge and mystery of divulging further into the unknown has me nearly ready to beg him to touch me.
Even through those thoughts, there’s still one thing at the front of my mind. “Saint, I want you, don’t get me wrong,” I admit. I meet his intense gaze and then stop his hand from traveling any lower. “But what happened to Sinner?”
He sulks. “I may have stabbed him.” He comes clean finally with me asking him the direct question, and this time I do sit up in a flash, completely stunned.
My hands go wild slapping all over his chest. It does the opposite though. I want to hurt him, but instead, he chokes out a surprised laugh and catches my hands. He’s stronger than he appears, his grip like a vice. I’m nowhere near a match for him physically.
“Holy shit!” I shriek, and he tackles me, laying over me to keep my body still. I’ve never had someone subdue me like this before.
“Hush up.”
The adrenaline kicks in, sobering me up a bit and I warn him, “I’ll scream, and I’ll kick you in the nuts!”
“And I’ll slit your fuckin’ throat, now shut it,” he promises, his breath skirting over my lips.
I don’t know if it’s the fear or what, but my body vibrates in a way I never imagined possible. He’s dangerous and controlling and nothing like any man I’ve met in the past. None of them had any balls compared to Saint; he truly is the real deal in terms of a bad boy. Clearly, the motorcycle and the I-don’t-give-a-fuck façade is not a front.
Is this why my mother was always chasing after the guys she’d find? Was it the danger or the possibility of the unknown? Was she seeking an adventure like me? After this shaky, insane feeling that courses through your veins in the face of madness? It’s addicting.
A frustrated, girly growl bubbles up, and I shoot forward, biting the shit out of his chin. He’s provoked me to the point of losing control. This isn’t me. I don’t bite people, but Saint...he pushes me, tests my limits.
