Get your mind out of the gutter, girl. So far, Saint had been straight with her. He’d been nothing like what she expected. She shouldn’t be thinking about sex and yet it was hard to do when he was physically standing right next to her.
“I’d like that,” she admitted.
He gave her the name of some renovation company and a phone number. Olivia inputted the details on her phone, but her mind continued to wander. Saint’s phone went off and he excused himself. Olivia watched him leave the kitchen. She could hear him speaking in the living room.
Saint had no other reason to linger here, unless she invited him back to her bed. Her old bedroom where she’d mooned over him during her high school days. Olivia hadn’t even checked if the room was still there. For all she knew, her father had converted it into his private office or repurposed it for something else.
Her phone beeped on the kitchen counter. Another unwelcome message from Brett.
She didn’t need to open it. Olivia didn’t want to give the bastard the satisfaction of knowing she still read his texts, but she could see a preview of the message.
Brett: I’ve hired a PI, little dove. Pretty soon, we’ll be able to lock down your location.
Little dove. How she hated the nickname he gave her.
A shiver went down her spine. Not the good kind when Saint was next to her but the bad one. She lifted the sleeve of her left arm. Olivia saw once again the phantom purpling bruises he’d left there with his belt. Memories of terror enveloped her. Olivia wasn’t a small woman, but when Brett managed to corner in against the bathroom wall, he’d tower over her like some demon incarnate. He made her feel small and insignificant. No better than a trapped rat.
She breathed in and out. Her heart started a rapid rhythm. Olivia flung open the windows in the kitchen, letting some air in. No use. She started to panic. Olivia placed a hand over her chest.
“It’s okay, he’s not here. You’re safe for now.” She repeated those words like a mantra.
Olivia didn’t want to think of herself as weak, but she had to admit the truth. She’d become one of those abused women who let their men drag them around. Asking a notorious MC President for help might not be the first thing someone else in her shoes would do, but she trusted Saint. For some unexplainable reason, Olivia knew he’d never hurt her.
Saint returned. He must’ve seen the expression on her face because he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Brett hired a P.I. It’s only a matter of time before he finds me.” Her voice came out as a croak.
Saint went to her, pulled her into his arms again, and she yielded to him. She shut her eyes and took comfort in the heat of his solid body.
“He’ll never lay another hand on you again,” Saint said with vehemence in his voice.
They stood like that for a while. Olivia imagined they painted a pretty picture. The preacher’s daughter and the President of the Fallen Saints MC. In a perfect world, they were a flawless fit, except reality had to come crashing down sooner or later. Saint didn’t do commitments and she was a fool for entrusting her heart to his keeping.
“I promise.” Saint kissed the side of her neck. Olivia tilted her head to one side, giving him further access. Saint licked at her pulse point, moved his hands up and down her curves, his touch like molten fire.
“Is everything okay?” she finally asked. “Your call?”
“Bonnie’s in town with her husband.” Saint stopped kissing her.
“Bonnie? Your daughter’s married?” She blinked, finding that hard to believe. Bonnie was eight years younger than her. She recalled the image of the smiling eight-year-old girl with the gap-tooth grin quietly doing her homework in the clubhouse kitchen. Olivia had babysat for Bonnie but only for a little while. Once her father found out she was working for Saint, he put an end to that particular part-time job.
Saint grunted. “To one of my men. Hawke.”
That surprised her. Everyone knew Saint was overprotective of his little girl, but she guessed Bonnie was a grown woman now.
“I’d like to see her,” she murmured.
“You might.”
Olivia touched Saint’s hand and gave it a squeeze. She didn’t know why she did that or what possessed her to ask, but she said, “I know it’s too much, but can you stay the night with me?”
She cringed at the neediness in her voice. Saint said nothing for a few moments. His breathing turned harsh. Olivia wasn’t talking about sex and he knew it. Too late to take back her words now. She waited for Saint’s rejection, certain he was a busy man. He had his MC to run, an entire town to protect. Saint didn’t have time to babysit fragile and broken little Olivia.
“Sure,” he finally said, kissing her on the cheek. “I don’t mind watching over you for one night. It would also give me a peace of mind.”
Olivia let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Really? Thank you. It’d only be this once.”
“You can ask me anything and I’ll give it to you if I can.” As if Saint knew his words unsettled her, he then said, “I’m sending one of my guys over tomorrow. Griffin works for an IT security firm. He’ll set up a system around this place.”
“Hold on a second. I can’t afford something like that right now,” she blurted, turning to look at him. Who did Saint think he was, anyway? He couldn’t just make decisions like that for her.
“Money’s not an issue,” Saint said.
“That’s not the point. You’re not my boyfriend or my anything.”
“Olivia,” he said in a patient voice. “I’ll sleep better knowing there’s a security system installed in your home. That way, the cops will be alerted if someone does break into your home. It’ll give you a peace of mind. Trust me.”
Saint had a point there, and she had come to him for help, hadn’t she?
“Okay,” she said. “But in the future—”
“I’ll talk things with you first. Got it.” Saint didn’t sound impatient, only amused. “I think I’ll take a shower. Where’s the bathroom?”
“Upstairs. The first door to your left. There are some spare towels in the cabinets, but I’m not sure when’s the last time they were washed. I really need to make a shopping list.”
“Then it’s a date.” Saint was halfway out the doorway when she called him back.
“Shopping for essentials isn’t a date, Saint,” she said.
“I know. I just want to spend more time with you.”
Long after Saint’s footsteps faded, she stood there, staring at the space he’d occupied. She took a seat at the kitchen counter and sipped her coffee, dazed. What a hell of a day it had been. Saint was taking his sweet time in the bathroom. Maybe she should check on him, see if he needed anything.
Chapter Six
Saint closed his fingers over his fist and stroked himself. He let the water run, let Olivia think he was taking a shower. He needed to take care of his cock first. Saint would’ve preferred to sink his dick inside the pink and slick folds of Olivia’s pussy, but he had to make do with his hand.
He groaned, imagining Olivia kneeling right in front of him, her wet mouth on his cock. Then he’d unload his jizz all over her face, her big tits. He’d mark her the way a territorial animal would. Saint was a bastard for thinking such filthy thoughts, but he couldn’t help himself.