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My stare swung to the girl who was watching me, wide-eyed, with her lips parted in shock, and asked, “You okay?”

She pulled her clothes straight and nodded before whispering, “What the hell just happened? Then her shocked stare slid down to the floor where the dude lay, demanding, “And who the hell are you?”

He let out a groan.

“I gotta call someone to have him dealt with,” I explained. “Are you okay?”

“Wait,” she murmured, her eyes turning to slits. Taking a step back, she let out a cry and gave the dude a hard kick in the ribs. She reached down to retrieve the notebook she’d dropped on the floor, then straightened up again and squared her shoulders. “Now, I feel better,” she declared.

Her voice was soft and melodious, and it hit me somewhere deep.

She sounded like a song, even when she spoke a normal sentence, and it grabbed my attention.

It also hit me in the dick because suddenly, all I could think of was that same soft melodic voice crying out my name while I feasted on her sweet little cun?—

“Thank you,” she said, her tone earnest.

I grinned down at her. “Just doin’ my job, darlin’.”

Her cheeks pinked, and she stuck out her hand, “I’m Saint.”

“Saint, huh?” I took her hand, lifted it to my mouth, and touched my lips to the back of her hand before breathing, “Jacob.”

“Jacob.” She whispered my name like she was trying it out in her mouth just to see what it would sound like and fuck me if I didn’t like it a whole damned lot.

The tip of her tongue came out to touch her lip, and I wondered how such a shy, nervous gesture could make my cock kick harder than Morten Andersen going for a Superbowl-winning PAT.

It wasn’t just about that, though. She was fucking beautiful, curvy like a fifties pin-up girl, with a face that could soften the most jaded of men.

Her lips were pink and puffy, her hair bleached blonde, and face framing where it was cut just below her jawline.

It should have looked harsh, but the peachy softness of her skin and the appealing roundness of her face balanced it all out perfectly.

There was no doubt she bordered on angelic, but what really did it for me were her eyes.

They were big, round, and the bluest blue I’d ever seen, darker than the summer sky but lighter than the ocean. I couldn’t describe the color because I’d never seen it before. Her clothes were cool and edgy with a pretty girl twist. Even her name was hot.

Stare never leaving hers, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, only glancing down briefly to click the top name of my call log. After a few rings, my brother Diablo answered with a loud, “Yo!”

“Gotta sitch, brother,” I told him. “Back corridor leading to the dressing rooms. Caught a guy going after a girl who works here. I put him on his ass.”

Blondie’s eyes drifted back to the weirdo on the floor, and her face hardened.

I liked that about her too. Saint wasn’t hysterical or losing her head. She was keeping it together in a way that proved she could hack my life. I wouldn’t have blamed her for being upset; she had been attacked after all, but she also saw the situation was in hand.

“Be right there,” D barked.

“Roger and out,” I muttered and disconnected the call.

“Army?” she asked, referencing my military speak.

“Air Force,” I corrected. “Fighter pilot. You sure you’re okay?” I asked, my eyes locking with hers, suddenly feeling winded by the intensity in them.

She shot me a smile bright enough to blind me. “Yeah. I’ve had worse.”

My chest twisted because I didn’t like that. I didn’t like the way she was so blasé about being fucking attacked. It wasn’t something she should be used to, and certainly not something she should normalize because that shit was as far from normal as you could get.

My gaze caught on her chest, and I frowned at the angry mark there. “Where did he grab you?”

“He just groped my boobs mostly.” She shuddered.

Turning, I stooped down, pulled my fist back, and punched the fucker across the side of the head again, ignoring Saint’s gasp.

He let out a groan and began to come to just as the sound of boots echoed, and Diablo’s voice barked from the ether, “Brother? What the fuck’s goin’ on?”

“Here.” I hauled the pervert up by the collar and slammed his back against the wall just as Diablo rounded the corner, closely followed by our brothers Pyro and Mac.

“What the fuck?” he exclaimed, his eyes narrowing on the guy I had pinned. “This the asshat?”

“Yeah.” I tugged the sick fuck away from the wall and threw him in the direction of my brothers. “Fucker needs to be on a goddamned watch list.”

Pyro caught the dude by the back of his shirt and shoved him toward Diablo, who took a handful of the fucker’s hair before getting in his face and snarling, “You a fuckin’ pervert, boy?”

“N-no,” he stuttered. “I just wanted to talk to he?—”

Diablo pulled his head back and smashed his skull into the fucker’s face. Blood sprayed, and I heard a sickening crunch. “I’ll cut your fucking fingers off,” the SAA growled. “See how well you touch women then.”

Saint let out a little squeak, and her eyes veered to me.

The dick may have just assaulted her, but I kinda got how she didn’t want to see my boys convey to him why that was a bad idea. She’d been through enough.

“Take that shit outside,” I told them, tipping my chin toward her. “And keep it on the down-low.”

Diablo jerked a nod before hauling the dude to his feet. He gestured to Mac and Pyro to follow him as he pulled the fucker toward the nearest back exit so they could finish the job.

I gave them chin lifts, raising a hand to swipe my hair back as I watched them go.

“Hey,” Saint exclaimed softly, grabbing my hand to examine it. “Your knuckles are all busted. We’ve established that I’m okay, but are you?”

Her question stopped me in my tracks. Nobody ever asked me if I was okay. Honestly, I was used to it; my knuckles were usually busted, especially after fight night.

I wiggled my fingers to test that they weren’t broken and shrugged. “Not unusual. They’re usually fucked up in my line of work.”

“We need to get them seen to,” she told me in a no-nonsense voice.

I laughed. “I’m not going to hospital. Jesus, baby. I’m fuckin’ badass.”

She rolled her eyes. “Who said anything about the hospital?” Grabbing my shirt, she pulled me down the corridor, then turned toward the dressing rooms, announcing, “Just gotta get my bag,” before ducking inside a door.

I took the opportunity to pull out my cell and shoot off a message to our SDSS chat, relaying I was gonna see the chick safely home.

After getting a flurry of eggplant, winky face, and thumbs-up emojis back, I tucked my cell away, looking up just as the door opened, and Saint emerged with a big canvas bag slung over one shoulder.

“Ready?” she asked.

I looked down at the ripped jeans, tiny titty top, and Chucks she’d changed into and grinned. “As I’ll ever be.”

My security job was about to get very fucking interesting. I hadn’t felt this kind of pull toward a girl since Allie. The promise of her and everything she could be to me sank deep into my core, leaving me warm. And I knew in my heart she’d be someone special.

“You like Chinese food?” she inquired as we made our way through the hustle and bustle of backstage toward the staff exit.

“Fuckin’ love it.” I glanced down into clear azure blue eyes, and my heart swelled inside my chest. “Lead the way, blondie.”