Giving It to the Monster (Saints and Sinners MC Book 4) (7 page)

The wine was working a little too well, and she suddenly collapsed in his arms. Wine had always made Natasha a heavy sleeper. Picking her up in his arms, Saint carried her inside and all the way up to the spare bedroom. This wasn’t how their life was supposed to be. They should have had a chance, a family, a future.

“I didn’t know what my dad did, but I’m not going to let him get in the way.” He started to undress her, and placed her in some pajamas. Saint took care of her like he had done so many times growing up. “You’re mine. You were always mine, and I’m never going to let you go. Not ever.” Once he tucked her up in bed, he kissed her brow, and smiled at her.

With Natasha back in his life, he could handle anything.

****

Pea picked up the empty bottles, listening to his wife singing her heart out upstairs. Melissa couldn’t string two notes together, but it was still adorable. Dumping the empty bottles in the recycle can, he made his way up to the bedroom that they shared.

She stood in a sheer red negligee.

Melissa had always been a highly sexed woman, very sensual. He’d been drawn to her sexuality and her beauty. Pea couldn’t even deny that he’d found Penny attractive, her sister, but over the past couple of years, that attraction—on his side only—had fizzled out. Now he stared at Melissa, and he felt this burning need inside him. A yearning to be something more with her.

“I may have gotten a little drunk tonight,” she said, holding her finger and thumb close together.

“It’s not like you, getting this drunk.”

She scrunched her nose up. “Been a hard couple of days, weeks, years. I don’t know. I think I’m babbling.” She sighed and got to her feet. “I didn’t expect you to come home tonight.”

“Why?”

“Girls’ night, you stay at the club.”

“We had a little business to take care of with Natasha’s ex.”

“Ah, the asshole husband. He still alive?” Melissa asked.

“Yeah, maybe got a few bruises.”

“Wow, a few bruises. Saint is losing his touch.”

“Or maybe he’s wanting a woman a lot more than he’s wanting another death on his mind.”

Melissa pulled back the covers and climbed into bed.

Pea removed his jacket, and made his way into the shower.

“I thought you’d go back to the club with Shannon,” Melissa said just as he was about to enter the bathroom. Pea turned to stare at his beautiful wife.

“I wouldn’t go home with anyone,” he said.

“You used to. You like Shannon, don’t you?”

Turning to face the bathroom, he closed his eyes. “I haven’t touched her in a long time, Mel. I’ve not been with a lot of women in a long time.”

“Oh.”

Silence fell for several seconds.

“I’ve not been with any other men either.”

Nothing else. Neither of them said another word, and he made his way into the bathroom. Removing all of his clothes, he stepped underneath the shower. It had been a couple of months since he’d been with a woman. Shannon hadn’t graced his bed in over a year. The women that could vary from one woman to five every single night had slowly gone down to nothing. Now the only woman he wanted was his wife.

Seeing Shannon, semi-naked, hadn’t aroused him.

Nor had any of the other women. The moment he looked at Melissa, he’d been hot as fucking hell. Just thinking about the other day when he fucked her in the kitchen, had been the single hottest moment he could remember.

Finishing his shower, he made his way back into the bedroom where he saw Melissa had already fallen asleep. He dried his body before climbing in naked beside her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her close, kissed her neck, and closed his eyes.

She felt so right in his arms.

“Pea,” she said. Her voice was so soft.

“Yeah.”

“Never leave me.”

It was the first time she had ever uttered those words. He couldn’t recall a single moment during their time together where she’d ever been vulnerable.

“I promise I never will.”

She sighed. “That’s good.”

Seconds later, she went back to sleeping, light snores coming from her mouth. Wrapping his arms around her, Pea closed his eyes, and knew there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

Chapter Six

“We’re going to enjoy the last really good weather before it gets too damn cold.”

“A barbeque for the whole club?” Natasha asked.

“You wanted to visit the club. Not only do you get to meet everyone, there’s also going to be food.”

“I like it.”

It was Sunday morning, and they were both sitting at the kitchen counter. She sipped her coffee while Saint read the newspaper and ate his cereal. To her, it felt very … domestic.

“You keep on staring at me. You’re making me nervous,” he said.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Ignore me.”

Saint ate some more of his cereal, and she sipped her coffee, staring at him over the rim of the cup.

“What is it?” he asked, putting his paper down, and focusing on her.

Damn, she got a little shiver having his hotness directed completely at her.

“It’s nothing.”

“Nat, it’s not nothing.”

“Okay, fine, Friday night.”

“What about it?” he asked.

Just ask him.

“I woke up in pajamas that I have no recollection of ever putting on.”

“So?”

“Erm, I wasn’t able to ask you yesterday about it. You seemed to rush off to do some stuff.”

“Club stuff.”

“Right, and I guess, how did I get into them?”

“I changed you.”

Natasha bit her lip. “Oh. How?”

“I took your clothes off, and then put on your pajamas. I mean, I didn’t put them on. I put them on you.”

She started laughing. “You closed your eyes though, right?”

“Nope. I stared. You look beautiful by the way. I didn’t take advantage. It’s not my style.”

“I would never accuse you of something like that.”

“Good. I’m not a rapist, or an abuser.”

Natasha frowned. They were strange, really extreme choices of words, and she stared at him. They may have been apart all these years, but she also knew Saint’s little tells. The way he wouldn’t look at her, how he became interested in something over her shoulder.

“You went to see Simon, didn’t you?”

“Nigel advised that I go and have a chat with your ex.”

Her stomach tightened, twisted, and she put the coffee down on the counter. “What did he say?”

“He talked shit about what it was like being married to you. How you were, what he did.”

“He didn’t rape me, Saint.”

“Did you want it?”

“No, yes, it’s complicated. We were married, and…”

“It doesn’t matter if you’re married or not. If you don’t want to, then no means fucking no, Nat.”

She tensed up. “Life is sometimes different than what we imagine it would be, isn’t it?”

“You’re going to change the subject.”

“I can’t change what happened.” She shrugged. “If I wanted him to stop, I could have stopped him.”

“You really believe that.”

“It’s what I want to believe.”

Saint held his hands up. “Simon’s going to give you a divorce, and you’re not going to have to worry about him fighting you.”

He stood up and made to leave the kitchen. Natasha rushed toward him, grabbing his arm, and stopping him. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being the Saint I know.”
And love.
“For being here with me, for me. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close.

“I have a condition for it though,” he said.

“Anything.”

“You can’t leave here. You can look for work, even take a job at Dirty Deeds. They need someone to help pack, and post orders that come in via the internet.”

“I can do that.”

“Make this your home. Live with me.”

“You’re sure?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure.”

“I’d love to.”

He reached out, holding her chin.

She held her breath as he seemed to lean in just a little as if to kiss her. Suddenly, he stopped and pulled back.

“Be ready in an hour. We’ll go then.”

She nodded. “I will be. What is the proper dress for something like this?” she asked. “I left my leathers at home.”

“Speaking of home, I’ve got some of the boys ready to grab your stuff on Monday. You got a problem with that?”

“Nope, none at all. Do you need me there?”

He shook his head. “Wear something that makes you happy, Natasha.”

She watched him walk away, and smiled.

Jeans and one of his shirts it was. She cleaned away the kitchen, smiling so damn much it was making her face hurt. Heading upstairs to the spare room, she took a quick shower, and changed into a pair of jeans, a crop top, and finally one of his checkered shirts with the buttons done up at the middle.

The shirt smelled like him, and reminded her of the many times she’d gone to school in his clothes. Rumors were always flying around about them, and she hadn’t cared what others said. Being with Saint made all the gossip worth it.

A quick memory flashed into her mind.

Natasha was leaning into her locker, grabbing her history books when she felt him behind her.

“There’s a rumor that I’m tapping this ass,” he said.

“We’re fifteen, Saint. Everyone likes to think we’re doing the uglies, but it’s not true.”

He gripped her hips and leaned in close against her, the hard ridge of his dick pressing against her ass. Like so many times before, it made her pause, and sigh.

“We want to,” he said. “Besides, my shirt looks good on you, and the only way for you to get it on, is if we’re both naked.”

She stood up and turned toward him.

“You like the gossip.”

“Damn right I do.” He cupped her cheek, pulling her in close, and slamming his lips down on hers. “It means I’m the only one who’ll ever get to taste this sweetness.”

Pulling out of the memory, she made her way downstairs, finding the front door open. Walking out, she saw Saint doing some repairs to her bike. The moment she approached, he looked up, and she saw a flash of heat as he looked at her. The spark that started between them when they were five had never disappeared. It had only gotten stronger, deeper, more powerful and consuming.

“You ready to go?”

“Yep. Something wrong with the bike?”

“Nothing. I just like to mess with it. Make sure it’s perfect.”

“Have you ever heard, ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’?”

“I heard that, but if something wasn’t made perfect we wouldn’t have flat screens, cell phones, or e-readers. Some things are made to be improved.”

“Okay, smarty pants.”

She stood by the bike as he packed his tools away. Running fingers through her hair, she groaned as he came out with a helmet. “You didn’t think for a second I’d let you ride without one?”

“I trust your ability to ride.”

“And I trust your ability to do as I ask.” He helped put the helmet on her head, and smiled. “You look so adorable, cute.”

She glared at him. “Just what everyone wants to hear. Cute and adorable.”

“I didn’t say they were the only things I thought of when I saw you.”

“What else then?”

“Sexy, desirable, fuckable. Do you want me to go on?”

“Nah, I’ve got it.” Heat filled her entire body.

She wanted Saint, and her body was letting her know that the time away from each other, hadn’t changed a thing.

Saint climbed onto the bike and told her to do the same. Holding onto Saint and straddling the machine, she cursed the helmet she wore. There was a time when Saint would have lived dangerously, and no helmet would have been necessary.

The ride to the clubhouse was uneventful, and the helmet was too stuffy, and it made her nose itch. She couldn’t let him go, so by the time he parked up, and she had the helmet, she was scratching her nose.

Saint chuckled, taking the helmet, and placing it on the back seat. He put his arm across her shoulders, and pointed at the clubhouse. “This is my kingdom.”

She saw a difference immediately.

The clubhouse she knew before was not what stood before her. There were no broken windows, or graffiti on the walls. The last time she had been here the stench of piss, damp, and sex had hung heavy in the air. The women had been naked, and the men in some form of collapse or drugged-drunk enhanced stupor.

“Wow,” she said. “This is what you’ve done?”

“I replaced all of the windows with new ones, took out the stink, and didn’t let it back in. Once Dad was out of the picture, I was able to do what needed to be done.”

She saw several women walk out of the clubhouse carrying bowls. They were scantily clad, but they didn’t stick out, nor did they look ill.

“I got rid of the drugs in the club as well. When Mom took Elena, Dad just spiraled out of control, and the club became something worse, something mean.”

“I remember,” she said.

Elena came toward them with a large man, scary looking, like a murderer at her side. She carried a baby, and he held a squirming girl.

“Nat, I’d like you to meet my charming niece, Bluebell.”

The little girl waved at her.

“This here is Charlie, and of course the asshole that stole my sister, Pipe.”

“So, you’re the Nat that everyone is talking about?” he asked.

“It would certainly seem that way. I’ve heard a lot about you. Hell’s Wolves Prez, right?”

“Yep.”

“I have to say it’s a little crazy. Two rival clubs that are now joined through family.”

“It doesn’t stop us from having some trouble.”

“I bet.” Natasha wasn’t stupid. She knew about the club. Saint had confided in her the way the club was run years ago, before she left. He’d also told her about some of the deals he had going with Pipe the other day, letting her know more of his life.

“I’m going to meet her to a couple of the others,” Saint said.

He gripped the back of her neck, and rather than be annoyed at his control, she loved it. The way his fingers stroked and caressed, it made her aroused. She loved his touch, and didn’t want it to end.

He took her around to where a barbeque was set up. Vanilla she recognized, and a few others. Still, Saint pointed them out, and she gave them a wave. Shannon was sitting on Willy’s knee, and several other women were around, chatting. She noticed the old ladies were together.

“There’s Fly, Shorty, Buzz, Bean, Zeus. Wayne is a newbie, and he’s not long been with us. There, right at the back looking like a mad scientist is Ethan. Road and Flat are also there. A couple of the boys aren’t here, but you’ll meet them as time goes on.”

“What about the other men?” she asked.

“They’re mine,” Pipe said. “Shawl, Egg, Knife, Butt, Pocket, Joe, and Danny. They’re the ones that could make it today. Everyone, this is Natasha.”

She held her hand up. “Hi.”

“So, Natasha, you alone? Need some company?” Egg asked.

“Back off, asshole,” Saint said.

“She belong to you?”

“She’s mine,” Saint said.

Natasha didn’t say anything.

Egg held his hands up and stepped back. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” She chuckled as he walked away. Glancing up at Saint, she licked her lips. “If I belong to you, does that make me your old lady?”

Everything faded into nothing as Saint stared right back at her.

“What do you think it means?” he asked.

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

He cupped her cheek and leaned down. “It means you’re mine, and no one else is ever going to have a taste of you.”

Saint pulled away, and she didn’t fight him as he pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’ll be right back. I’ve got to deal with some club business.”

She kissed him this time. “Hurry back.”

****

Saint motioned for Ethan to follow him, along with Pipe. The business of the drugs that was killing people still needed to be dealt with. Entering his office, he closed the door once everyone was inside.

“You asked me to find what was in the drugs, and besides the usual crap, there was in fact rat poison. I’ve traced it to a supplier known as Big Ricky,” Ethan said.

“He’s got connections to the mafia, and his MO is sending out a supply of this shit, and the enemy snorts it, and boom, revenge is complete,” Knife said.

“Questions is, why is it in Sinners’ Corner?” Saint asked.

Pipe shrugged. “Only way to find out is to meet with the big guy. I can arrange it.”

“Without bloodshed?”

“Big Ricky is a good guy. He does the job he’s paid to do. We don’t have any problem with the mafia, so I don’t see why there should be bloodshed.”

“It’s the mafia,” Ethan said. “It’s what they do.”