Page 20

The moment I find Tem, I settle.

Everything with Kade left me off-kilter. It should be natural that I seek out some form of comfort. Except… why is it her?

Why am I standing in the doorway of her room, watching her fold laundry, instead of immediately retreating to the safe haven of my room?

When did she have time to do laundry, is the better question?

“Why are you staring at me?” Tem’s voice is stiff.

I cringe. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” She drops the shirt onto her bed and plants her hands on her hips. “I have a sixth sense about that kind of thing.”

“Staring?”

“You.” She meets my gaze.

Oh.

“I didn’t realize how tattooing Kade would hurt you,” I say.

I either say it now or I hold on to it forever.

She winces. Continues folding. Busy work to steady the slightest tremor in her fingers.

“So for that, I’m sorry. If I knew… I should’ve known, that’s not an excuse. I just…”

“You just can’t help yourself,” Tem says quietly. She laughs. “Of course you can’t. You torture me, Saint. All the fucking time, you just kill me. And now you’re going to come in here and tell me that was the one time you forgot Kade was a sore spot?”

I rear back. “No.”

“Yes,” she argues. She’s given up on folding and comes closer, her expression more mad than I’ve seen her. “Yes, Saint. You know exactly how to drive the knife in deeper.”

Apt analogy. My focus drops to her stomach. She’s wearing a cropped top, and the stitches of the lower stab wound are visible. They’re healing surprisingly well, which means she’s taking care of them the way she should. She’s not scratching at them, or jumping into the ocean, or…

“Even the tattoo,” she mutters. “Not his— mine .”

“Your—”

“My lack of a tattoo!” She throws her hands up.

Strands of hair are escaping the bun on top of her head. Her black leggings match the cropped shirt, and both make her tanned skin seem even more golden. There’s not a speck of makeup on her face. Just a few necklaces, a ring on her index finger…

Her lack of a tattoo .

She’s talking about when I tattooed her with no ink?

“I thought you didn’t care about that.” I eye her. “You didn’t want me to?—”

“No?” She huffs. “You’re so thick.”

“I am not.”

“You are,” she goads.

She comes closer, pressing her palm to my chest. “You’re so stupid, Saint. You don’t see what’s right in front of you.”

“What’s that?”

Her expression closes.

I know the answer, though. Belatedly. It’s her . She’s right in front of me.

Before she can retreat, I grab her neck and tow her back to me.

I bend, leaning over her. Our lips are close enough that barely a movement from either of us will let them touch.

“I see you,” I whisper.

She shakes her head. “You see what you want to see.”

“I want to see your pussy,” I counter.

My dick is already at attention. Whatever freak incident earlier was clearly a result of not getting myself off enough. But with everything happening, there hasn’t really been time…

“Strip,” I order.

Her gaze darkens, her pupils dilating. She hooks her thumbs in her leggings and drags them down.

I take care of her shirt as soon as she’s kicked the leggings away, lifting it and exposing her breasts.

No bra.

Should’ve figured.

“Saint,” she breathes.

“Yeah?”

“I…” She shakes her head. “Never mind.”

My brows furrow.

Her hands go to the button of my jeans, but I still them. I kneel in front of her and drag the last strip of fabric hiding her cunt from me. She shudders, and I guide her backward. She sits hard on the bed, and I spread her legs. Lean in.

“Don’t tease me,” she says, “I don’t think I could bear it.”

I take my jeans off. She scoots backward, knocking the clean, folded clothes to the floor. I crawl over her, palming my length. I should pause and get a condom, but the way she’s looking at me…

Fuck .

Sliding inside her is the most normal, natural thing in the world.

Why would I ever want to be somewhere else?

She groans. I use micromovements, trying to bury myself deeper. She’s wet and tight—almost too tight. It takes a few long moments of stroking, of rubbing her clit, for her to relax enough to take all of me.

“Pretty girl,” I tell her. “No teasing. Just orgasms.”

She nods at me.

I deliver on my promise. She comes while I’m seated inside her, and the waves of euphoria that clamp her muscles down around me is a true test of my willpower. The need to move is almost overwhelming.

“I slept with Reese,” she confesses.

I pause, swallowing the questions that bubble up. Like when and why ?

I could guess the why.

I could also probably hazard a guess at the when.

“Saint.”

I pull out and flip her over. On her hands and knees. I spread her legs and drive back into her harder. Just because she slept with someone else doesn’t mean I won’t fulfill my promise. It’s almost too late to back out anyway. No teasing—just orgasms. Mine. Hers.

She drops her face to the bed, and the slope of her spine, her waist, down to her curved, wide hips, nearly makes me blow my load right then.

I slide my palm down her back, keeping her bent low.

“Say something,” she begs.

Can’t.

A little busy.

I fuck her until her headboard slams against the wall with every thrust. I fuck her through another orgasm, and reach around and tweak her nipples, tugging on the piercings until she squeaks out a protest.

Part of me wants to see her face.

Another part wants to question how the sex with Reese was.

Another… the more selfish option… is to make her forget all about him by obliterating her mind with climaxes.

I pull out of her, flipping her over, and use my mouth. My cock is so hard it aches, but I’m not about to ruin it by coming early. I can wait. I do wait.

She comes on my tongue.

She comes with my fingers buried in her pussy and my mouth latched on her breast.

She comes, she comes, she comes.

Until she lifts onto her elbows, and her muscles tremble and shake so much, she falls back to the mattress.

Only then do I climb over her and thrust back into her warmth.

I bury my face in her neck, inhale her scent, and pump my hips.

The friction is just barely there. Her cunt is drooling with arousal and her cum.

My balls tighten, and I groan. I bite her neck, and a flash of Kade’s threat to bite me flashes in my mind.

Shit.

I spill inside her, my cock throbbing and pulsing.

“I didn’t mean to do that.” I almost pull out of her, but she grabs on to me.

Wraps around me.

“Just stay here.” Her voice is more vulnerable than I’ve ever heard. “Stay.”

I exhale. Long and slow. “Okay, wildcat. I’ve got you.”

We shift onto our sides, and I keep her close. It’s the oddest feeling, staying inside her while my dick softens. It doesn’t lose all of its hardness—in fact, its half-mast shape lets me remain in her even longer.

I hook a hand around her knee, drawing it up to my hip. Her arms are tucked like little wings between our bodies, but I don’t mind that. I drape my other arm around her waist.

Hold her tight, keep her here.

Pretend this is enough to set us right.

And finally, finally sleep.