Fuck, but the simple image alone was enough to make him come.
“Olivia, fuck.”
With a groan, he emptied his seed onto the tiled walls.
If the preacher was still alive, he’d have a heart attack if he knew Saint was in his bathroom, masturbating to the erotic image of his beloved daughter. A gasp made him turn. Saint had forgotten to lock the bathroom door. Olivia must’ve knocked, but he was too lost in his fantasy to notice. She stood there, staring, hugging a towel to her chest.
Saint smirked at her. “Want to join me? There’s room for one more in here.”
He thought those words would send her running but they didn’t. To his surprise, Olivia peeled off her sweater, then her pants. She stood in front of him in nothing but her underwear. Her black lace underwear, he noticed. Lust roared inside him as she took off her bra, freeing her heavy breasts and dusk-colored nipples he’d love to put into his mouth. Was this a mirage? A figment of his overactive imagination?
Olivia dropped her panties and his mouth watered. She had a dusting of dark hair between her legs, but he caught sight of the pink temptation of her cunt. He held the shower door open as she joined him.
“I don’t even know what I’m doing,” she said in an endearing and shy voice. “I told myself I can’t let myself get close to you.”
Saint knew she’d start second-guessing her decision soon. He gripped her by the shoulder and backed her toward the wall. Saint lifted her hands above her head, kept them there as he sealed his mouth over hers. The taste of raspberries filled his mouth and he took her plump, juicy lips. He deepened the kiss, spread his fingers over hers, holding her instead of restraining her.
God, but her breasts rubbing against his bare chest maddened him. He imagined how they’d bounce while he fucked her senseless on her bed. He kissed his way down her neck, releasing her hands. Saint took her left breast in his hand and sealed his mouth over the pebbling bud.
Olivia buckled against him, sinking her fingers into his hair. Saint closed his teeth over the bud, leaving his tiny bite mark there. She gasped, grinding her body against him. He went lower, leaving a trail of burning kisses down her ribs, her round stomach. Saint knelt. Finally, he reached the crevice between her legs. He’d been wanting to taste her here. Saint bet she’d taste like sweet honey.
She parted her thighs wider for him without Saint needing to ask.
“Good girl,” he murmured against her thigh. He blew at her pink folds, loving the way she shuddered.
Saint licked the pink lips before thrusting his tongue deep inside. She moaned, squirming, but he kept his hands on her thighs, holding her in place. He savored the deep, musky taste of her and lapped at her. Saint dragged his tongue to her clit and created circles.
“Saint,” she cried out as he nipped teasingly at the sensitive nub. Saint pushed two fingers inside her tight cunt and hell, did she fall apart for him. Olivia whimpered and came all over his face, the sound sweet and clear.
Saint could get hard again just at the sight of her coming apart, but he reeled in his control. Tonight was all about her pleasure alone. He wanted, no needed to prove to her that her needs suppressed his own. That things between them weren’t just casual. It was fucking real.
He stood back up, kissing her soft lips. She looked down at his cock, a silent question in her eyes.
“Not tonight,” he reassured. “Let me bathe you.”
Olivia allowed him that privilege. There was something intimate about shampooing her hair, soaping her gorgeous body.
“You’re nothing like I expected,” she told him after he rinsed the soap off both their bodies.
“Is that a good or bad thing?” he asked as he found a towel to dry them off.
“Good. I think but I’m scared.”
“Of me? You have no reason to be frightened of me, baby. I’ll never hurt you, not in the million years,” Saint said, cupping her cheek. “You’re mine now, and I protect what belongs to be. Obsessively and fiercely.”
“I don’t belong to anyone.”
Yet, Saint didn’t add. He didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to ruin anything between them. Trust was cheap, fragile, and breakable, but he was intent on winning hers no matter how long it took.
“I’m scared of falling deep and hard for you,” she admitted as they left the bathroom.
“That’s not the worst thing in the world.”
She didn’t answer him.
Olivia padded to what he presumed was her bedroom. She flicked open the lights. This room, he gauged, belonged to the girl trying her best to be an adult, the girl from ten years before. Posters of boybands adorned the pink walls. The princess bed had pink sheets. Stuffed toys were thrown in with the pillows.
“I can’t believe he kept everything intact.”
It seemed to Saint the old preacher had been delusional. Clearly, Olivia’s father still pictured her as his little girl even until his dying day. He didn’t mention his thoughts to her out loud.
“I can’t sleep here,” she finally said. “It’s like a shrine. A creepy one.”
“We’ll go back to the living room. You can take the couch and I’ll take the armchair,” he suggested.
Olivia shut the door to her bedroom. “Sounds like a plan.”
****
Olivia didn’t think she’d be able to get any sleep at all. She was wrong. For the first time in several months, she fell into a dreamless sleep.
Olivia woke to the smell of sizzling bacon. Where was she? Brett never once made her breakfast. Hell, he never used the kitchen. She sat up on the sofa. Her father’s old sofa and the living room swam back to her vision.
Everything came back to her. Her return to Redemption. Bumping into Saint last night. That hot shower scene that made her yearn for more.
“Morning, sunshine.”
She whipped her head toward the kitchen, bemused by the image of Saint wielding a frying pan. Her stomach growled, reminding her that her last meal had been yesterday’s lunch. She padded to the kitchen, only to find Saint had moved the bacon to two heaping plates filled with bacon and toast.
“When did you have the time to do this?” she asked him.
“I didn’t. I asked a prospect to do a grocery run for me. I can give you Gary’s number. He’ll be happy to help you get any supplies you need.”
“No, thank you. I like to shop on my own.” Besides, Olivia didn’t want to owe him any more favors.
He raised an eyebrow at her. Olivia blushed, realizing she sounded ungrateful.
“I appreciate the offer,” she said quickly. “But—”
Saint pressed a finger to her lips. “I understand.”
“Do you?” she asked, quirking her lips. Olivia didn’t know what possessed her to suck on his thumb, but it made him groan.
“Keep doing that and it’ll be my dick you’ll be sucking,” he murmured.
“Who says I don’t want to?” she asked, releasing his finger.
“I thought you wanted to keep things simple between us.”
“I might’ve changed my mind,” she admitted.
“Good. That’s what I want to hear. I got to take care of a little problem back at the clubhouse, but Iron will swing by to take you to work.”