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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

PHILLIPA

I hadn’t lied, sex with Saint is nothing like I’ve ever experienced before, it’s raw, urgent, admittedly earth shattering. My prior experiences have been fumbled at worst, and at best, it was okay, a meeting of bodies, but fast became predictable, something to get over with as quickly as possible, and dare I say it, endure. Rather than seeing stars and having an out-of-body experience, I relished the cuddling afterward, and the warmth of having another person in my bed.

An hour or so ago I fully expected I’d be facing death when Tempest had led me into that barn. A glimmer of hope had appeared when I realised, they were using interrogation tactics that I might have used myself, giving the guilty party reason to believe they could get out of this by turning on somebody else. My gut fear had been that club loyalty meant they’d support even a prospect of the club against a Fed. My respect for them grew as I realised the ploy, but I still hadn’t thought I was out of the woods. After they’d dealt with their rat, they could still turn on me.

I’d been given a reprieve, and hell, if these were my last hours on earth, I couldn’t have wished for anything more than spend them with Saint. The man who’s given me a choice.

I can’t escape. If I try, chances are I’d be caught and be dead.

If I refused Saint’s offer, the same would apply, they wouldn’t let me go free.

All my life I’ve strived to be the person I thought I should be. Straight As, a good honours degree, and a career I thought would bring me respect. But nothing I did got any recognition, not even a pat on the head. And joining the secret service as a woman meant I had to outshine the men, just to be told I was doing as good as them. If they were late, they had their back slapped and asked whether they’d had a good night. If I was, I was asked if I was on my period, and questioned whether I could keep up. My reports were scrutinised to the fullest extent. Every tiny grammatical mistake was picked up, while some of my male colleagues I had to question whether they were even literate. Not all, of course, but enough.

I proved myself in every way, overcoming all challenges, and was assigned to provide protection. And look how that ended?

Would I really want to return to that job, even if there wasn’t the chance that someone would finish the job that the people who ran me off the road had started?

After a lifetime of trying, what would I do with myself if I stayed here with the Kings? Become Saint’s bed buddy? I certainly wasn’t going to be anyone else’s.

Have Saint’s baby. Have a family. Hell, I could already be pregnant. Unconsciously, my hand reaches down and touches my belly. Could there already be a new life growing there? And if there was, would that give me a new purpose?

Saint’s been waiting patiently, while I’ve been thinking. I’ve been vaguely conscious of his hand smoothing up and down my back, keeping me grounded. I decide to look at things a different way.

Turning to look into those mesmerising dark eyes, I ask, “What would my life look like as your old lady?” Before he can speak, I add fast, “And don’t say anything about me benefitting from your cock every night.”

His hand moves to rest over his chest. “You wound me. You think I can only perform at night and in bed?” I’m starting to think that if he can’t take my question seriously, then there’s no hope for us when he stops touching his heart and takes my fingers in his instead. “Not saying it will be easy. You’ve still got to earn the trust of me and my brothers.” He pauses, thinks, then frowns. “I think, after Skunk, they’ve got a grudging respect for you, but we’ve got a long way to go to get them on your side. It will take time, but I think we can get there.” Again, he measures his words before continuing. “I live at the club, and they’d expect us to stay close for now, but if it all works out, then I’ve more than enough put aside to support you, to buy us a house, or have one built.” He considers again, this time his lips turning up. “We’ve got enough land here, maybe we can build something close.”

“To be near to the club, but able to have our own private time away from it?”

He squeezes my fingers. “Exactly.” Earnest eyes look into mine as he adds, “And not because I don’t trust you, but because I don’t trust the world out there. You have my baby, then I’ll want to know you’re protected and safe.”

I bite my lip. “And what would I do every day, while you’re out riding your bike and causing trouble?”

He chuckles. “You don’t have a very good view of bikers, do you?”

“Not those who wear the one-percent diamond patch.”

“I’m an outlaw, darlin’. And you already know I’m no Saint. You just got to decide whether you can live with that.”

Can I? When I’ve been law-abiding all my life, when I’ve never so much as picked up a speeding ticket. If I can’t, there’s no way out, except ending up six feet underground.

“You talk about having a child, building a house.” I grimace, thinking my next words are going to get blown off. “Where does love come into this relationship?”

This time, when his intense eyes meet mine, his fierce expression makes it impossible for me to look away. “I’ve never felt this way about another woman. Fuck, it was against my nature to stop there that night and come down to see who was in the accident. I can’t think anything other than fate played its hand, making me act out of character.” He breaks off and chuckles, “I fell for you the moment you handed me back my cut after I thought it was lost in the explosion. Pippa, babe, I’ve gone against my club to keep you alive, and I want to kill any other fucker who puts their hands on you or looks at you wrong. For the first time ever, I can see my life with a ride-or-die woman beside me, but only you. I’m willing to put my property patch on you, to forsake all other pussy and be true only to you. If that’s not love, I’m not sure what is.” His fingers tighten around mine. “Maybe you’re not there yet, but I have hope that one day you will be.”

His words and the way he’s looking at me so intently steal my breath. For a moment, I’m incapable of doing anything other than staring at him as he’s laid himself bare. It’s time to give him some honesty.

“I was attracted to you the first moment I saw you, when you came to my rescue. I want to hate everything you stand for, want to hate your club, but when I knew Skunk was betraying you, I couldn’t keep that quiet. I wanted to protect you, when perhaps I should have stood back and let whatever club he was with destroy you.” I shake my head. “But I couldn’t do that.”

“Know that, babe. And so do my brothers.”

Closing my eyes, breathing deeply, trying to find the courage, I finally admit, “I never saw anything beyond my career, never thought I’d deserve a family. I’ve been running so hard just trying to keep up, it never occurred to me to stop moving and take a breath. You’re offering me something I never knew I wanted but somehow know that I need. The thought of setting up a home and having a child with you? I must be fucking crazy, but I can’t think of anything I desire more.”

“We do this,” he says. “We do it right. When my brothers accept you, you’ll have all the family you’ve ever wanted.” He chuckles. “They’ll drive you crazy, but that’s what families do.”

“Saint?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Why do you insist on calling me Pippa?”

His arm comes around me, pulling me into his side. “Because Phillipa sounds like a stuck-up bitch who works in law enforcement. Pippa is mine, as if losing the formality is metaphorically letting your hair down.”

“Is your legal name really Jeremiah?”

He sucks in air through his teeth. “You heard that?”

“When the sheriff called out Jeremiah Henley.”

He huffs a laugh. “Yeah, I escaped being called Bullfrog by this much.” He holds his forefinger and thumb a quarter of an inch apart. “And I think that was only because it was too close to Bullseye.”

I can’t help it. I burst out laughing. “Lucky escape.”

Placing his thumb against the corner of my eye, he chuckles, “I’d agree with that.” Suddenly, his mood changes. He reaches out and takes my hand. “Come with me downstairs. Come meet my brothers properly.”

Drily, I ask, “You think they’ll be finished with Skunk by now?”

He doesn’t bite at the bait I’ve thrown out. “Let’s just go see who’s around.” He moves to get his clothes, sliding his boxers then his jeans up his legs, pulling on a T-shirt, then sitting on the bed to do up his boots. Then he passes me what I’ve been wearing, his eyes intent on me as I do a reverse striptease.

Drawing in a breath, I point to my crutch, he gives it to me, then says, “Fuck it. Hold on to that.” That being my walking aid as he sweeps me up into his arms and carries me out of the door, along the hallway, and down into the club room.

We must have been talking for some time as the club room is full of his brothers, their extracurricular activities clearly finished for now. And not only that, there are the skimpily clad women, and what they are doing with some of the men makes me turn my face into Saint’s chest to hide my blush.

Either ignoring or pretending not to notice my reaction, he holds me tight in his arms, only letting me go when we’re in front of the bar where he manoeuvres me onto a bar stool and props my crutch within easy reach.

Heathen nods at his VP and raises a brow toward me. “Beer,” Saint demands, then turns to me questioningly.

“Beer’s good,” I reply.

They obviously have a barrel on tap as two glasses are filled and placed in front of us. I take a sip, at least their choice of brew here is good. I try another just to make sure. Then I risk surveying the room behind me. Freak getting his dick sucked off makes me wonder whether he’s a single dad or if Ace’s mom is still in the picture. Still, cheating bikers shouldn’t surprise me. Nor passing around women.

My jaw tightens as I turn back to Saint, and hiss, “If I’m yours, no one else is having me. And I’ll cut your dick off if you put it near any of these bitches.”

He leans in. “Absolutely no man here is going to touch you, but if they happen to walk in when my dick’s in your pussy, well, they’ll just see how much they’re missing out.”

“Not into voyeurism,” I snarl back, while having to admit that I might not be as averse to the idea as I’m making out. Or that’s what the sudden clenching of my stomach is telling me.

I’ve made him smile, or rather, the corners of his mouth turn up, not quite a smirk, but close enough. It’s as if I’ve challenged him. Oh fuck, I really haven’t thought this through about being with a biker.

“What’s she doing here, VP?” Tempest asks.

Rather than answering, Saint curls his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me to him, so hard I have to balance both hands against his chest to stop myself from toppling from the bar stool. There’s no other word for it, he devours my mouth, and as if he’s a drug that I’m already addicted to, I give myself over to him, holding nothing back. I forget where I am, my good arm clutches at him. It’s the loud clearing of a throat that brings me back to earth.

“Really, VP?”

Saint takes his time before gradually withdrawing his tongue and removing his lips from mine. He gives me a satisfied smirk before turning a glare on the sergeant-at-arms. “You got a problem?”

“Only me and the rest of the club,” he drawls in response. He glances at me, “No offence to you, darlin’,” then he switches his gaze back to Saint. “You really think you can get this voted on in church?”

“Let’s fuckin’ find out,” Bullseye’s distinctive voice growls, his tone giving nothing away. “We’re all here, let’s get this settled now. Heathen? You keep your fuckin’ eye on her. She goes nowhere, you understand?”

As the prospect nods, the prez circles his hand in the air. “Church, now!” he shouts.

The room empties rapidly.

Under the prospect’s watchful eye, I drain my beer. My heart is racing. If Saint isn’t allowed to claim me, then this might be my last night on earth. I’m really not in the mood when one of the scantily clad women steps up beside me.

Raising a brow, I turn to look at her. She’s sneering at me. On my part I’m taking in the heavy makeup, well, excusing the swollen lips and the lack of lipstick that Freak’s probably wearing around his dick. Mind you, I’ve not got much to compete. Skunk’s blow to my face is at least red, if not already bruising, and with my sling and cast, I don’t look a prize. Still, I wait with interest to hear what she’s going to say to me.

She doesn’t disappoint. “Don’t know who the fuck you are, but I know this club. And no one here has an old lady. And,” her eyes traverse my body, from my face to my legs, “And girl, you ain’t got nothing to offer more than me and my sisters here.” Said ‘sisters’ are approaching and nodding their heads in agreement. “You ain’t got much up here,” she puts her hands under her copious breasts and plumps them up as if for my inspection to make her point obvious.

“We ain’t got time for bitches who come in and try to take our men,” another of them says.

And here I was, pitying the women who were forced to service men in a one-percenter club. That they could not only be willing, but possessive of the bikers, was something I hadn’t actually considered. I suppose I can take it that whatever they’d been doing when I first walked in, they were consenting. Enjoying it? Maybe, or perhaps they just thought it might lead to a relationship.

“Saint’s mine.” Another of the club bunnies or whatever they call them, pushes herself to the fore.

I look down and say lazily, “Don’t see any ring on your finger.” I can’t afford to be jealous. I knew Saint had sex on tap before I appeared. But for some, probably certifiably insane reason, I trust that he’ll be faithful to me going on. Because if not, I’ll carry out my threat and castrate him.

“You’re not wearing his property patch,” she retaliates.

For fuck’s sake, I’ve had enough of this. In the unlikely event Saint’s brothers will agree to me being his, I’ll be his woman and will need to stand up for myself. I can’t be seen as a doormat, someone who’s weak. Of course, the more likely outcome of their meeting is what I expect, I’ve not much to lose.

Taking my good hand, I strike her around the face, surprised at myself that I’ve chosen violence. Then I realise the predicament I’m in as she draws back her arm to retaliate. I’m precariously balanced on this stool, only one arm working.

But before she can hit me, Heathen’s leapt across the bar and has her arm in his hand. “You really want to fuck with the VP’s ol’ lady?” he snarls. “One word from her will get you,” he lets his eyes encompass the others, “all thrown out of the club.”

The girl still protests, fighting to get her arm free, but he’s got her in a tight hold. “She ain’t going to be his ol’ lady.”

Heathen just stares at her, until she harrumphs and backs down. She, and the other club girls retreat. When he resumes his position behind the bar, I wave at my empty beer glass, and say, “I think I need something stronger.”