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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

SAINT

M aybe Pippa had seen through Rat’s story, or maybe she hadn’t. But as she must have noticed the quiet of the clubhouse and heard the roar of bikes leaving, if she’d wanted to, she could have tried to incapacitate Rat and seek out the keys to a car and escape. Even if she’d seen through his story, she could have used our absence to take advantage. But instead of making a break for it, she’d poured herself another cup of coffee instead.

Prez and I had been listening, my heart beating almost out of my chest when she’d told him her place was with me. Of course, I’d known Rattler was going to try to trick her, and I’d been ninety-nine percent certain it wasn’t going to work. My faith in her had been rewarded.

And now I think she deserves something in return. “You finished with that coffee?”

She upends the cup before answering, “I am now.”

“Grab the crutch.” As she takes hold of it, I sweep her up into my arms. Pausing to look at Bullseye, I tell him, “We’ve got things to discuss.”

“Sure, you do.” He smirks.

I rush her up to my room and instruct her, “Get naked.”

Instead, she turns around to face me, reaching up to cup her hands around my face. “He almost had me fooled, Saint. He’s quite the actor. If I hadn’t wanted to stay with you, I might have believed what I wanted to hear and taken him at face value. But I’ve decided my future is here. With you.”

I know my brothers would say she’s still playing me, and that I must be crazy to take her words at face value. I’m all in, and I hope she is too. “You want to be my bad girl?”

“Oh, so bad,” she sighs out.

Her breathy reply has got my cock at full mast. “Then get your fuckin’ clothes off,” I growl, quickly divesting myself of mine.

Once again, our coupling is mind-blowing, for a moment I feel like I’ve blown a fuse in my brain, and I struggle to even out my breathing. Fucking hell. I didn’t even know what sex was until I met her.

Even stranger, after we’ve both found our release, I pull her into my arms, enjoying the feeling of her sated body against mine. My nose nuzzles her hair, loving that she smells like me, having used my body wash in the shower.

She, too, seems to relish in our after-sex cuddling, pushing into me like a needy cat rubbing against its owner. I couldn’t even tell you how much time has passed with us innocently enjoying each other until she murmurs, “I need clothes.”

“I prefer you naked.”

“In front of your brothers?” Her brow rises. “Would that help my case?”

She’s got me there. She’s mine and mine only, and no fucker is ever going to see all she’s got to offer, well, more than some already have. “Want me to see if the bunnies can scare something up for you?”

“Ew.” Her face twists. “If that’s the option, I’ll continue wearing your clothes.”

Truthfully, I don’t want her wearing shit that will show my brothers her great tits and fabulous ass. I can’t take her shopping, but… “Hold that thought,” I tell her, as I jump out of bed, and pull on my jeans and tee. “Just wait there.”

I hadn’t left any of my electronics in the room because, well, she’s a Fed. So, I now go to retrieve my laptop and return. “There’s a pickup locker in town. Order anything you want,” I tell her as I pull up a popular site, “And your clothing problem will be solved tomorrow.”

“I just need stuff for a few days,” she sadly admits, making bile rise in my throat. She’ll need a lifetime’s supply if I’ve got anything to do with it. “And if you can pay, I’ll give you what I owe from my poker winnings.”

She’s mine, I’ve claimed her, even though it hasn’t been sanctioned by my club. I’ll be damned if I’m taking money from her. But I know it’s a matter of pride, so I don’t press it. She’ll learn in time that what’s mine is hers. And I’m hardly hurting for cash.

At first, I don’t bother getting involved, but then I get invested in what she’s looking at buying. “Not those,” I state, seeing the plain white underwear she’s considering. “Those.” I let my finger point to something else.

“Thongs?” Her eyes rise. “I don’t think so. Unless you get some for yourself and see how you feel wearing a string up your ass.”

Point taken, I laugh, then pick out some high leg type, but they’re in lace, gratified when she clicks on them. Then I make her buy matching bras, my cock already lengthening as I see myself tearing the underwear off her.

I have never before in my life had any interest in women’s clothing, except as far as they tempt me to see the body underneath. It’s a surprise that I find myself continuing to watch her, without getting bored, and even offering suggestions as she clicks on a couple of pairs of leggings, and jeans, and a few tops. As for footwear, I try to get her interested in boots that would do for riding, interpreting her sad glance toward me, that she doubts she’ll be here long enough for me to take her anywhere. But I override her, putting a practical pair into her shopping cart before I also accept her choice of sandals to wear around the club.

When the cart’s finally full enough for her, even though I’d like her to add more, my gut twists, knowing the reason for the reticence. I take the laptop from her, click buy now , enter my card details, and choose the location for the locker in town. Job done. Finished. And my cock’s up for round two. Luckily, so is her pussy.

Fuck, I can’t get enough of her.

The thought goes through my head as I yet again pump my seed into her, if she isn’t pregnant by now, I’ll be surprised. The thought excites, rather than terrifies me.

It’s early afternoon before we venture downstairs.

Brothers have returned from the short ride out this morning. It was nothing to do with club business, but a chance for Rattler to carry out his ploy to get Pippa to betray herself. Most have returned to their usual tasks, but a couple are in the clubroom, including Woody, who looks lost, and is staring into his beer.

“What’s wrong with him?” Pippa asks quietly.

“He was Gris… Skunk’s sponsor.”

Breathing out a long sigh, she makes a request, “Can you give me a few moments with him?”

“Sure,” I answer positively, but I have my doubts. I know she’s on a mission to bring people over to her side, but I’d have started with someone easier. If neither I, nor my brothers know what to say to Woody to lighten his load, I don’t think she’s got a chance in hell to make him feel any easier. But on balance, it’s hardly likely she can make him feel worse.

Giving them space, I move to the bar. After getting me a beer, Knight goes back to polishing glassware, but from his frown, I can see he’s got something on his mind.

“Want an ear, kid?”

Swinging around at my offer, he winces, and hesitantly starts, “Heathen and I have been wondering whether you thought we should have sussed something out about Gris.”

The topic makes me take a glance behind me where I suspect my women’s addressing the same subject with my brother. I take a moment before responding, “If you’d noticed something amiss and hadn’t said, well, that would be disappointing, but face it, none of the brothers, including me, or the prez had had suspicions.”

As if he doesn’t want to let himself off the hook, Knight grimaces. “He acted like he was better than us, tried to do as little as possible. But we didn’t want anyone to think we were complaining.”

It isn’t easy being a prospect, and while camaraderie often grows between those trying to patch in at the same time, at the end of the day, it’s each man for himself having to prove their future loyalty and trustworthiness, doing anything asked of them, without question or hesitation. Which also means, as Knight points out, that unless it’s something serious, we wouldn’t put up with them moaning. Then again, we want all of them to pull their weight. Becoming a member can be a hard path to navigate.

I frown. “Seriously, Knight, I think Gris was just clever enough to get away with doing as little as he could and still maintain his position here. He clearly played us in saying he was visiting his sick mom.”

“Yeah.” Knight scoffs. “Like she really existed.”

Grimacing, I enlighten him. “We looked into it, and he does have a mother with terminal cancer. What we didn’t check up on was whether he was actually visiting her, or what else he was doing while there. Some of us were having doubts about his eventual fit with the club, but none of us saw a fucking betrayal coming.”

A heavy sigh leaves Knight as some of his tension ebbs away. “Are we expecting trouble from his club?”

It’s a sensible question. “Can’t say.” As he nods and tightens his jaw, I hurry to reassure him, “Hey, kid. This isn’t a ‘something the prospects have no need of knowing shit’, this is because we really don’t know how much of a threat they are yet. But one of their members has disappeared, and all fingers will be pointing our way. Best to be prepared and on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary.”

His attention caught by Paint knocking on the bar looking for service, he gives me a chin lift and walks away. I stay where I am, drinking my beer, and continue thinking through the implications. We know the headlines of where Skunk came from, the name of his club and location, but have no fucking idea whether they’ve got big enough balls to take us on. But as we wouldn’t sit back and take the loss of one of our men without retaliation, it makes sense they are the same.

I’m sure Bullseye will be one step ahead of me, but if he doesn’t bring it up at the next church, I’m going to have to. It makes sense to institute rules about not riding alone, even if we don’t go on actual lockdown.

The thump of boots on the heavy floor makes me glance up to see Woody beside me.

“VP.”

“How’s it going?” He might only have acknowledged me by my title, but honestly, that’s the most I’ve heard him say since church when he offered up his patch. Is it my imagination that his face doesn’t seem quite so stressed?

His eyes meet mine for a moment, then he offers something approximating an attempt at a smile. “Not there yet, VP, but on my way. Things that are done can’t be undone. It’s the future that’s important.”

Standing, I place my hand on his shoulder, feeling the leather that should rightfully be there beneath my fingertips. “There’s a lot of truth in that, Brother.” Then, having delivered my platitude, I take my drink and go over to the table where my woman, the person who’s surely been responsible for lifting Woody’s mood, is sitting.

“You’re a fuckin’ miracle worker,” I state, kicking out the chair next to her and sitting down. “I don’t know what you said to him, but it looks like it’s had an effect.”

Her eyes crease as she looks at me. “It’s what you get when you use critical thinking, when you use the brain you have in your head and don’t think with your dick.” As I bark a laugh, she stops me with a glance when I go to speak. “Honestly, it’s true. Men like to think they’re dominant and all-powerful, with the converse that when something goes wrong, it has to be all their fault. I just applied a little logic to the situation.”

I nudge her. “You like me being dominant.”

Oh yeah, the answering flare in her eyes and the flush to her face shows she does approve of the way I take charge. Though I suspect it’s only in certain situations.