9
Saint
Just the thought of Angelique walking out of my life had my throat closing up with panic. I wasn’t used to feeling any sort of weakness, and it made me a little gruffer than I’d intended.
I fisted a hand in the hair at the back of her head and used a firm grip on her hip to plaster her body to mine. Using gentle force, I pulled her head back so I could cover her mouth with my own. Just before I lost all control and took her to the floor, I pulled back and stared into her lust-fogged eyes. “Do you understand me?” She nodded, but I still caught the hint of doubt clouding her gaze. I knew she’d been on the end of plenty of broken promises, and though I wanted her acceptance immediately, I reminded myself that talk was cheap. I would have to prove to her that I would always be by her side.
Sighing, I kissed her again, just to reassure myself that she was real, in my arms, and protected from the evils of the world. Namely, that motherfucking brother of hers. The thought tarnished the moment, and I reluctantly released Angelique’s lips. I had a lot of shit to accomplish, and if I didn’t stop, we’d spend the rest of the day fucking on every surface of our home.
I didn’t want the situation with her brother hanging over our heads, especially once we had a family. And I intended to put a baby in my woman as soon as humanly possible. I groaned and pushed the image of her round and swollen with our child out of my head. It was yet another path that would lead me away from what needed to be done.
“Let me finish making you breakfast, then we can talk about what comes next.”
Angelique’s eye brightened, and she peered around me to look eagerly at the stove. “You were making me breakfast?” I could see the hope that sprung into her eyes. Obviously, if I was cooking for her in the morning, I’d intended for her to stay.
I gave her a quick kiss, then turned her toward the island and gently patted her on the ass. “Go sit, angel eyes. Do you want some juice?”
She nodded as she practically skipped over to take a seat. “Yes, please.” The smile she gave me when I placed the glass in front of her was breathtaking. I wanted to see it every day for the rest of my life, and I had every intention of making sure that happened. I was a man who went after, and got, what I wanted. Keeping Angelique safe and by my side was no exception.
I asked her about the foods she liked and if she was allergic to anything, so I’d know what to cook for her and also to simply get to know her. Once I’d finished making us omelets, I set hers in front of her and sat across from her to dig into mine, which was easily twice the size of hers.
Angelique giggled, and a smile automatically curved my lips. “Something funny, angel eyes?”
She pointed at my eggs and laughed a little harder. “It’s just...everything about you is big. Even your breakfast.”
I smirked and winked. “As I recall, you were pretty happy with my size this morning.” Her eyes heated while she blushed to a deep crimson. I chuckled and pointed at her breakfast. “Eat, baby. We have a ton of shit to do today.”
She shoveled a few bites into her mouth, moaning with each one and making me hard as fuck. Thankfully, she distracted me after a few minutes. “We have stuff to do? Like what?” she asked as she glanced at me with curiosity.
“First, we’re going to go grab your shit and bring it home. I’ll send movers over to get the big things tomorrow. Once you’re settled, I need to run a couple of errands. I won’t be long, but it will give you a chance to take a nap. You’re going to need your strength for what I have planned for you tonight.”
“Home?” Angelique’s soft echo and brow furrowed with confusion, twisted my heart.
“Yeah, angel eyes. Home. Here with me, where you belong.”
I waited for her to say something, but she just beamed at me and went back to eating. She finished her breakfast with gusto, only pausing here and there to ask questions, obviously wanting to know more about me. I answered each one honestly and told her she could always ask or tell me anything.
After we cleaned up the kitchen, I led her to the master bath and told her to take a shower. She looked at me expectantly, and when I shook my head, she pouted adorably, almost causing me to give in. “The next time I make love to you, I’m going to take my time and worship every inch of your gorgeous body.” I winked, and she blushed before scampering into the room and shutting the door. I’d already hopped into a quick shower before making breakfast, so I headed to my closet. Digging around, I managed to come up with a T-shirt that had shrunk in the wash that I hadn’t gotten around to getting rid of. It was still pretty big on her, loose and hanging off one shoulder, but it didn’t look like a tent or go all the way to her knees. She giggled again while I rolled up some sweats so she wouldn’t trip on them and pulled the drawstring as tight as it would go. Satisfied that she was covered and wouldn’t lose her pants, I quickly ushered her out to my car, anxious to get everything taken care of so we could put it all behind us.
She gave me an address, and I smothered my frown, not wanting to upset her, but I was familiar with the neighborhood. Thinking about my woman living in that drug-infested hellhole only ratcheted up my need to drain the fucking life out of her brother.
When I pulled up in front of a building that looked as though it should be condemned, I squeezed the steering wheel so hard it creaked. After a few deep, calming breaths, I shut off the engine and climbed out before going around to the passenger side and helping Angelique.
It took a monumental effort to keep my grip loose as I held her hand while we approached a door on the ground floor with an eviction notice taped on it. The dirty window beside it was cracked and duct taped, the door was barely hanging onto its hinges, and the jam was a mess, obviously having been kicked in multiple times. When we reached it, she pulled out a key, and I was surprised the door didn’t simply collapse inside from one light touch.
She pushed it open and started to enter, but I held her back. “Stay here for a minute, angel eyes.” I didn’t like the thought of her outside by herself, but I was more concerned about the possibility of danger inside. She nodded her acceptance, and I did a quick check of the living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. By the time I returned to her, I was seething with untold fury.
The “apartment” was littered with molding food and old take-out containers. There was trash and drug paraphernalia scattered all around. A dirty, ragged old couch and a busted coffee table appeared to be the only furniture, other than a dingy and probably disease-infested mattress in the bedroom. What infuriated me the most, though, was the small corner of the bedroom that was neat and tidy, with several clean blankets made up to look like a bed. A few books were stacked next to a desk lamp on a little wooden table, and a canvas knapsack was stowed underneath.
The sink in the kitchen had been scrubbed clean, as well as the microwave, though the rest of the room was in the same condition as everywhere else I’d seen. It was clear that someone had tried to keep the bathroom, which was the size of a stall in a public restroom, clean, but from the stains on the toilet, sink, and shower floor, the effort had been in vain.
I schooled my expression and gentled my tone when I spoke to her. “Let’s get your things, baby.”