Damaged and the Saint (13 page)

Saint remained in an optimistic mood through dinner. He told me his favorite movie was
Armageddon
, yet he felt no shame in loving a crappy movie. He was allergic to chocolate, but never had much of a sweet tooth. He liked salty foods better. Saint asked me easy questions about food and movies. Nothing I might hesitate answering. Nothing that might lead me to asking questions he couldn’t answer.

Yet by dessert, Saint was tense. He tapped his fingers a lot and glanced around as if we were under threat. I wanted to soothe him, but I didn’t know how to promise anything without lying. Ellsberg was my home and it could never be his.

Back at the apartment, we watched TV with the distance of the couch between us. With such an oppressive silence, we were having our first fight. Would this argument also be our last?

“I’m sorry,” I said, resting in bed later.

Saint rolled on his side, facing away from me. “Life does what it does while we make the best of it.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Neither do I, but it sounds good. Let’s get some sleep.”

“Okay,” I whispered, staring at his back.

Against my better judgment, I reached out and ran my fingers down his spine. He tensed at my touch, but didn’t ask me to stop. Removing my hand, I turned over on my side facing away from him. I stayed that way for a long time, thinking about losing Saint. I also tried to imagine leaving Ellsberg. Neither option felt right.

When trapped with Playboy, I thought to run. I even considered going to the police and ratting him out. I'd imagined my brother and sister stuck in foster care. Would the club put me in a grave to keep me from causing more trouble? Even when I thought to run away, I realized I’d end up turning tricks to survive. One hell or another, I refused to choose. Eventually, Playboy made the choice.

Would things have turned out better if I hadn’t been too afraid to choose? I’d never know the answer. With Saint, either I decided or he’d leave and decide for me. I might again make the coward’s choice. Of course, I could leave with him and end up miserable anyway.

Dozing off, I imagined a life where Saint was happy in Ellsberg. I could remain surrounded by family and friends while keeping this amazing man. In my fantasy, everything was easy. I hoped my thoughts turned into dreaming of us together.

Instead, I suffered through a feverish dream about shoe shopping. I hated shopping especially for shoes. Waking up, I found Saint sleeping soundly next to me. We’d changed positions in the last few hours and were now facing each other. Remembering how we’d gone to sleep tense, I decided to leave him to rest.

I tiptoed to the bathroom then slipped into the kitchen for a glass of water. Even tired, I feared returning to bed. Saint was too tempting. When he wanted something, I needed to give it to him. When he was upset, I needed to make him happy. I hadn’t felt such responsibility with anyone outside of my family before. Saint was perfect, but his power over me wasn’t enough to convince me to leave my home.

Accepting Saint would be gone soon, my chest hurt and I couldn't catch my breath. I panicked when I imagined never seeing him again. How could I go on knowing he existed in the world without me?

I returned to bed, barely coping with the pain of losing him. I’d grown up since we'd met. I was stronger, less angry. Mostly, I was confident. If I could face down a man like him, I was strong enough to deal with any trouble life threw my way.

Except losing him.

Saint didn’t look like an angel in his sleep. Not even a fallen one. He looked like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Sleeping with a pout on his slightly tense face, Saint never escaped his demons. They hounded him relentlessly, yet he hid his pain better when awake.

The world broke his heart. A good man with big dreams of changing the world was ruined by the evil that lives in lesser people. The men who destroyed him were filth, yet they’d won in many ways.

I wished I could fix his pain. I wished to sooth the painful scars in this man. Life didn’t work that way. Just as I'd always be trapped in the memories of watching my family die, Saint would never truly escape his hell.

I watched him sleep for a long time, already saying goodbye. Why the hell couldn't I be strong enough to leave Ellsberg?

Waking up startled, Saint seemed to know he was being watched. He scowled darkly at me. I only stared back at him. Even when he was angry, the man was irresistible.

“What are you doing?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Planning how to kill you in your sleep.”

A small smile appeared then faded. “Bad dream?”

“No. I wanted a drink.”

Saint leaned over and took a gulp from his always-present Gatorade. Resting back against the headboard, he studied me again.

“Why are you watching me sleep?”

“I was thinking about how much I’ll miss you when you leave town.”

“I’m not leaving though.”

“You keep saying how much you like the city, not small towns.”

Saint rested his hands his stomach. “I want you.”

“You can have anyone.”

“Don’t do the pouty insecure bit. Not with me.”

Smiling slightly, I crawled closer. “I don’t think I can function without my family.”

“You can do anything you want.”

I lost my smile. “How long will you wait for me?”

The minute the words left my lips, Saint wasted no time. In a smooth motion, he leaned forward onto his knees and cupped my face. No words necessary, he answered me with a kiss. Gentle, yet commanding, Saint leaned me back onto the bed. My hands slid into his thick hair. My legs wrapped around him as he leaned over me.

“You taste like heaven,” he murmured, kissing my jaw and neck.

“I’m afraid of holding you too close. I'm also scared of letting you go. I haven’t been this scared since I got to Ellsberg.”

Saint hovered over me, large and intimidating. Even a monster of a man, he caressed my bare belly as if his fingers were the wind. I shivered at the feel of him, but said “no.” He didn’t stop, instead kissing my forehead and cheeks before finding my lips.

My breath caught at the passion of the kiss. Saint wasn’t a man in lust. His need was something deeper, a starving desire building the longer our bodies were pressed together.

His lips left mine then returned, exploring my mouth, stealing my breath. My hands pushed him away before pulling him closer the very moment he actually backed off. I kept thinking “no” even while wanting all of him.

Saint’s lips found my neck. Loving how his teeth nipped at my flesh, I held him tighter. My hips bucked when he slid between my legs and his erection pressed against the thin fabric of my panties.

“No,” I moaned as my nails dug into his back.

Saint stopped and studied my face. “You need to say something else if you want me to stop,” he whispered, propping up on his knees and studying me from my neck down to my damp panties. “I know you can’t help saying no when you’re scared. I need you to say ‘dreamcatcher’ when you really want me to stop. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” I murmured, reaching for him. “I can’t fuck though. I can’t do that.”

My rising panic scared me until Saint kissed my cheek. “I’m going to make you feel good like you did for me last night.”

“No,” I whispered.

“Dreamcatcher will make me stop,” he said, sitting back and taking in the sight of my legs open for him. “I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as the look on your face right now.”

“The look of fear?” I asked, shivering when his hands gripped my knees before they slid lower against my thighs.

“The look of a terrified woman who trusts me.”

Despite my hips arching upwards against my will, I smiled. “I do trust you.”

“I want to explore, so your clothes need to come off,” he said then added when I tensed, “Mine stay on.”

“I think guys can fuck with their clothes on,” I muttered while he ran his fingers over my thighs again.

“Not me. I need to strip down and stretch out.”

Saint lightly scratched at the flesh on my thighs up to my nightgown, pushing the material past my breasts.

“No.”

“I know,” he said, leaning forward and making an approving sound. “I’ve never done this before.”

“What about your birthday?” I said as his fingers slid gently over my nipples as if testing them.

“I pay for me to get off, not to make the escort’s toes to curl. Samantha and I never got past making out. You'll need to endure my clumsy moves. Sorry,” he said without looking sorry at all.

My fear eased as I imagined Saint clumsy. No, not just clumsy, but a scared virgin of sorts. I ended up smiling until he gave one of my nipples a lick.

“Shit,” I gasped.

“I can't tell if you liked that. Let’s try again.”

My mind screamed for him to stop. I couldn't tolerate this kind of arousal. It was too much. I needed him to stop. I knew how to make him stop. I just had to say "dreamcatcher." No way would I utter that word though.

My brain shut down once he kissed my nipple with his wet lips. Breathing in gasps, I might have said Saint’s name. Hell, I might have moaned the National Anthem.

“Now you,” Saint murmured to my other nipple.

Wiggling like a dying fish on the dock, I pushed him away, but he didn’t budge.

Glancing up at me, Saint lifted an eyebrow. “Say the word.”

I stared into his eyes, wanting to cry. “No.”

“I’m not stopping then.”

Saint teased and sucked as my hips bucked then fell limp. His touch felt so good and I hated him for making me lose control.

His lips moved from my nipples to my stomach. Sucking at the flesh around my belly button, Saint slid a finger over the wet slit of my panties.

“No,” I cried, trying to close my legs.

Climbing up over me, Saint leaned down until his lips were an inch from mine.

“Playboy is dead,” he murmured, his dark eyes hypnotizing me. “His shit friends are dead too. You’re alive, Harlow, and you deserve to be happy. You aren’t a little girl anymore. You’re not a victim either. You’re strong and beautiful and you want me to touch you. Am I wrong?”

I shook my head and Saint smiled.

“You like when I touch you,” he said, running a finger over my panties again. “You want to touch me too.”

Smiling, I rested my hands on his shoulders. “I do want to touch you.”

“We’re here together and no one controls us. Mexico and Phoenix are the past. This is now. Are you ready?”

“You promise to keep your clothes on?”

Saint nipped my bottom lip. “I don’t like this apartment building with all these assholes next door and upstairs and downstairs. I can feel them stinking up the world with their bullshit. Your first time won’t be here, but it will be with me.”

I smiled at the possessiveness in his voice. “I trust you.”

Saint gave me a look that said I was full of shit. He was right. I didn’t trust him or me for that matter. I wanted to trust him though, so I relaxed as he slid between my legs. His hot breath on my thighs made me squirm with pleasure. I felt him smiling at my reaction.

His fingers tugged my panties aside and I told him no. He ignored the word, knowing I didn’t mean it.

I held my breath as Saint spread me open with his fingers. My hard nipples ached in anticipation. I finally exhaled when he kissed my clit.

Saint licked my wet flesh, sending me into a “no” overdrive. I finally covered my mouth to make myself shut up. I think I might have cried if he actually did stop.

His teasing was slow, nervous even. Once my back arched and I cried out, his anxiety disappeared. Saint sucked and licked, finding the rhythm to make me crazy. His tongue pushed me to a point where words no longer existed. I saw stars as my body dissolved into pure bliss.

His lips lingered on my aching flesh even after my cries ended. Needing him closer, I reached for Saint and dragged him over me. Kissing him desperately, I wrapped him tightly in my arms.

“Don’t leave me,” I said when his lips left mine.

Saint said nothing, his body moving against mine, trying to find relief even while clothed. I studied his expression and knew he wasn’t going anywhere. As much as I craved him, I suspected he craved me more.

I awoke to find Harlow watching me in awe. She blinked a few times when I smiled at her then returned my affections. We got up and took separate showers even though I was dying to see Harlow wet. Afterwards, we walked to breakfast where she again stared at me.

“Orgasms feel good, huh?” I said, grinning as I dumped sugar into my coffee.

Harlow shifted awkwardly. “I get how it’s not new for you.”

“Didn't you ever touch yourself?” I asked, leaning closer until I was an inch from her lips. “Late at night alone in your room, didn't your hands ever get curious under the covers?”

Smiling slightly, she kissed me quickly then shifted away. “It never worked.”

“Did you really give it a try?” I teased, caressing her knee.

“A few times. It never felt good enough. I got bored and stopped.”

“Tonight, you can show me what you tried. I can help you with your technique.”

Harlow rolled her eyes.

“We’re doing that again tonight,” I said, sitting back as the waitress dropped off our food.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No,” she said more forcefully.

I leaned back over and kissed her neck. “Yes. I liked having such power over you.”

“I bet you do.”

“And you liked the way I made your body felt.”

Harlow held my gaze and a smile warmed her face. “Yes, I did.”

“There’s nothing wrong with playing.”

Nodding, she focused hard on my face. “No fucking though. I’m not ready.”

“You have a one track mind,” I said, biting into a slice of bacon. “Fucking is all you think about.”

Harlow grinned. “I’m not ready.”

“I know. I might not be ready either. Even last night, I felt myself losing control. Practice will make everything easier.”

Reaching for my hand, Harlow looked ready to cry. “Last night…”

“I know.”

“I never thought I could feel like that.”

Linking her fingers in mine, I sighed. “That’s why I’ll stay in a place like Ellsberg. For you, anything is worth it.”

Harlow sighed, a smile lingering on her face. She fell silent while finishing her breakfast. I did catch her peeking at me and grinning. As much as I wanted to reminisce about the night before with Harlow, I allowed her the quiet. My mind was on how soon Arlo and his boys from Memphis would leave Ellsberg. The twins and the Three Musketeers would head out too. I wasn’t sure how quiet this town got when it wasn't overrun by outsiders, but I hoped I might finally relax.

Driving to the Johanssons’ place for the final paintball match, I was thinking about the fun Harlow and I might have once the last shot was taken.

“Get knocked out of the game early,” I said, pulling into the driveway. “I’m bored of shooting people with paintballs. It’s not why I’m paid to be here.”

“What will you tell the Memphis guys about Cooper?”

I parked then turned off the car without answering. Harlow wanted protection for her friend. Even understanding her concern, I didn’t work for the Johanssons and I wouldn’t lie for them. I’d lie for Harlow, but I wouldn’t be doing her any favors by pumping up her buddy’s image if he couldn’t live up to the hype.

“Cooper is a tough, smart guy, but he isn't ready to run shit without daddy standing in the wings. Fortunately, he has Kirk at his back. In a few years, he won’t need him.”

Harlow studied me then nodded. “He’s only twenty three. That’s young to have so much pressure on him.”

“I agree. The guy comes from good stock and he's a world smarter than his idiot brother. Cooper will be fine. He’s also building an inner circle of younger guys more aligned with him rather than just following because of his dad.”

Smiling, Harlow took my hand. “Thanks for telling me what you’ll tell them. I like that you trust me.”

I studied the needy look on her face. “Once the guys leave town and I feel less on display, you and me will need to have a chat about a few things.”

“Specific things?”

Grinning, I wrapped my fingers behind her neck and pulled her closer for a kiss. “Names, dates, locations. A full debriefing.”

Harlow laughed in an excited way. She’d exposed herself to me the night before. Now she needed me to toss aside my masks and reveal myself to her.

I knew Harlow thought I had all the power. I’d seen her so vulnerable while I’d kept my power. Yet sex had always been cold and rough with me. I expected the same with Harlow. Her skin felt warm and soft, infecting me. Everything seemed a hint better since she opened her heart.

“You threw me an anchor, Harlow,” I whispered, leaning down to nuzzle her hair. “I know you don’t think you’re strong enough, but you’re pulling me out of the abyss I’ve been stuck in since Mexico. Nothing else could save me. Not my family or my work or vacations or the lies I tell myself. Only you.”

Gazing into her eyes, I saw everything. Hope. Fear. Desperation. Faith. Harlow was mine, but I might still lose her. Even if I survived Harlow slipping through my fingers and the life of loneliness awaiting me, my mom would kick my ass. My one shot at happiness was standing before me. I only needed to hold onto her and refuse to let go.

“I wasn't kidding about ditching the game. Get knocked out as soon as you can and meet me on the deck. We’ll bail the party and go somewhere private.”

An excited Harlow hid behind a mask when voices approached. I hated pretending we were only fuck buddies. I hated to wear a mask with Harlow, but these men weren’t our friends. Nothing in Ellsberg was safe for me. I belonged to no club and shared no allegiances. I was a lone wolf in a town full of packs. The reality was Harlow was safer than I was.