When Saint Goes Marching In (24 page)

“Xenia doesn’t believe you no matter how many times you plead your case?”

“No.”

“You know you have to fight for her, right?”

“Why does everyone keep me telling me that? Don’t you think that’s what I’ve been doing? I always fight for what I want and I always win, except this time. I’m losing right now, big time, and there ain’t a damn thing I can do about it,” Saint said in frustration.

His father leaned in close to him. “Whatever you’re doing, it isn’t working. You’re obviously trying to pretend to be someone you’re not, just to get her to come back.”

Saint couldn’t believe he was actually having a conversation about his love life with his father, of all people. What scared him more is that the man’s last sentence piqued his interest.

“You hit upon something I’ve been thinking about during the last twenty-four hours or so, actually,” Saint admitted.

 “This isn’t even you. You called yourself taking a softer approach it seems, because you felt so guilty even though it wasn’t your fault. I just saw a second ago, the
real
Saint. You’re a damn imposter, get the hell out of here and bring my son back!”

Saint smiled at his father. “I’ve heard you curse probably three times in my entire lifetime.”

He chuckled. “I do most of it in my head. Your filthy mouth is enough for the both of us.”

Saint softened. “And thank you for the advice. You’ve confirmed what I was thinking lately,” he said with renewed optimism. “I’m tired of playing her games. She has my head all fucked up. She’s hurting so she’s been torturing me back. It’s been hell…but it’s time to switch things up.”

“That a boy!” his father teased. “I’m sure you’ll figure out what to do.”

“I think I already know,” Saint nodded.

I claimed and marked you once. Once you believed I fucked around on you, the mutual spell between us faded. Looks like it is time to do it again, time to go hunting. Xenia, your new name is ‘gazelle,’ baby.”

* * *

Saint moved his leg slowly under cream silk sheets that he’d changed for the third time. The other two had been through the dry cleaners so much they began to look unkempt. He sat up against the headboard, his chest hair wet from sweat, and looked over at Xenia who was sound asleep, her naked body wrapped beautifully in the fabric. The contrast of her toasty brown skin against the tapestry almost looked Photoshopped.

Beautiful…

Saint blew out a ring of smoke. He briefly looked out the window and saw the sun setting. He took another puff of his cigar and turned to the television to check out what the weather high would be for the following day.

Xenia
began to stir. She coughed from the smoke, then stretched and yawned. Saint was still glued to the evening news when her eyes fell on him.

“When did you start smoking at home?” she asked, confused. “You only smoke at the men’s conferences and dinners.”

“Why? Are you concerned about my health?” he laughed.

Xenia
smiled and sat up. She winced, probably feeling the slight soreness between her thighs from the back to back lovemaking sessions. “Well, I just never saw you do it here is all. It just threw me off guard.”

Saint gave her a perfunctory look, blew another ring of smoke out and looked back at the television.

“No fifths?” Xenia asked as she traced his arm with her fingertips, a smile on her face.

Saint stared at her without saying anything. Her eyes lowered, as if she felt suddenly self-conscious.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked annoyed.

Saint sucked his teeth. “Not a damn thing.”

“Well, how was your trip to New York?” she asked as she sat up higher, trying to change the topic.

“It was good, real good. I had a good time with Raphael, went to some places I hadn’t been in a long time, spoke to my father.”

“Good,” she said quietly. She leaned into him hopefully.

When he didn’t move she pulled the sheets back down and cradled close to him. She kissed his shoulder and traced the infamous tattoo on his back, ran her finger over the years-old healed bullet wound – a bullet he’d taken for her. He felt her linger there, as though mulling over the memories that came with it. Memories of long hospital nights and her crying by his bedside.

Saint put his cigar down in an ashtray, halted her exploration and pushed her back on the mattress. He roughly spread her legs open and dove deep inside her for the fifth time today. Xenia moaned in sheer ecstasy and held on to him with all her strength.

“Shit, yes!” she screamed out as he went deeper. “Harder!” she begged.

 Saint snatched his pillow and set her down onto it to elevate her pelvis. This allowed him to drive even deeper, harder.

Her head fell back. “Damn baby!” she screamed. “This is so good!” He made love to her like an inmate would after being released from a twenty-year prison sentence.

Saint moved in close to her ear as he pounded his name on her walls with the tip of his dick. “You think I’m not shit?” he asked, smiling.

“You aren’t,” Xenia said as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“I’m good enough to fuck though, right?” Saint asked.

“Yup. That’s what you do best. I have to let a ho be a ho,” she hissed.

“You like me in those guts, don’t you?” he asked as he grabbed her ass cheeks, bringing her as close to him as she could come. “You like to feel my dick deep inside you.”

“I sure do.”

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself…so happy you’re loving it, baby, I really am, because you’re not getting any more after
this
. So please, make every bit of it count today.” Saint thrust into her, ruthlessly, as her eyes grew wide as saucers.

“Mothafucka you need to be happy that I’m even over here at all!” she spat, still responding to his thrusts as though she wasn’t seething with anger and disappointment.

“That worked the first couple of months, Xenia. I was grateful. Now I realize you were treating me like a starving dog…throwing me scraps for retribution. It’s cruel. It just doesn’t work anymore.” Saint continued to drill her. “You’re on my turf now. I’m done playing your game. Bring your ass home and my children, too.”

“You’re not in a position to demand shit.”

 “You’ve got me payin’ over and over for some shit I didn’t do and now I have to go over to your mama’s house just to see my boys for a few hours. I pay a high ass mortgage for this house you wanted yet my seeds are over there in gang bang territory sharing a little bedroom with you.” Saint bore down on her and hooked her gaze with his. “I didn’t fuck that bitch and I’m not going to take this shit anymore!”

Xenia
slapped him. “Stop lying, Saint! You’re just trying to save your ass and that’s why you refuse to admit the truth. You’re making this so much worse!”

Saint clenched his teeth and closed his eyes as he tried to calm himself. Every nerve in his body twitched. His muscles locked up as he attempted to self-soothe. He opened his eyes and stared at her. “Don’t you
ever
, as long as you have breath in your little ass body, hit me again,” Saint warned. “I’m your husband and the father of your children – I don’t give a fuck how mad you are, don’t strike me unless we are in the throes of passion…and you know you’re not feeling very passionate about a mothafucka right now! If I did some shit like that to you, the police would be over here arresting me right now.” Saint exhaled a shaky breath, closed his eyes and started to move his hips again.

“You deserved it.” Xenia said under her breath.

Saint paused. “No, what I deserve, Xenia, is some respect. You’re steadily telling me I ain’t shit while I fuck you like you want it. You tell me you hate me and you love me in the same damn fifteen minutes, confusing the shit out of me. How much more of this shit did you think I can take? I love you and you know it, but I’m not going to let you keep doing this to me. I’m not like some of those other candy asses you used to date, Xenia.”

“You’re right. None of them chased me the way you did, married me then cheated on me with an ex, so uh, yeah, you’ve got that one correct.” She rolled her eyes.

“I’ve never taken your shit and I’m not going to start now. Just because I love you and want this to work doesn’t mean I’m going to keep letting you do whatever. Don’t push me,” he said with steel in his voice.

Xenia
sat up. “Are you threatening me?”

Saint pushed her back down and thrust hard into her. The golden crucifix that hung from his neck bumped against her collar bone each time he pushed forward.

“Comin’ over here to exchange fuck faces with me…what the hell do you think this is…a brothel? I’m not your personal escort, I’m your man,” he growled.

“Ex-man.”

“Ex-man like Wolverine you mean. I’m not an ex. You didn’t file any papers.” Saint started to move faster. “And don’t let me find out someone else is hittin’ what belongs to me while you’re on probation. You’ll get his ass beat; you’ll be responsible if ol’ boy gets
fucked
up.” And he meant every word he said, too.

“Probation? What belongs to you?” Xenia laughed. “I’m not even thinking about another mothafucka. I can’t stand men, all because of
you
.”

“Good. You just saved someone from gettin’ the brakes beat off of ’em.”

Saint frowned as he prepared to finish her off, while Xenia’s eyes shot daggers at him as she let him have his way. Her orgasm arrived, wrapped beautifully in a golden bow and delivered right at her pelvic doorstep.

“Ouuuuuuuuuuuu!” She flexed her toes and raised her arms above her head while Saint kept his rhythm. He didn’t stop until she was putty in his arms, her body trembling with the force of her climax. Saint followed suit, climaxing so hard his muscles seemed to temporarily lock up.

“Fuck!” he groaned as he fell down upon her chest, his breaths fast and heavy.

Xenia
raised her hand to his hair then checked herself. He knew she was about to run her fingers through his hair as she customarily did, then thought better of it. She looked away, as though she couldn’t bear to look at him anymore.

Saint took a deep breath and rolled off of her, falling onto his back inelegantly as he tried to cool off. After a few minutes, he rose to go into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. As soon as he hopped under the warm shower water, he heard the door open.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said sternly. “Unless you just want to shower, to clean up, then that’s fine but you’re not getting any dick, tongue, fingers, nothing until you do what you’re supposed to do. You’re cut off.” Water streamed down his face as he soaped up his chest.

“You can’t be serious.” He did not miss the tremor in her voice.

He leaned forward and let the water spray his back. “I’m serious, dead serious. I told you already and now you’ve got me repeating myself like a fucking parrot. You’re getting what you want but I’m not. I told you that’s the last you’re getting until you stop this shit and come home and I meant it. I’m a man, I’m your husband, not some puppy or toy you can fuck around with when it suits you and then leave home alone.” He turned his narrowed gaze to her. A gaze that would scare off a lion in a field of mice.

Xenia
stormed out of the bathroom. He heard her quickly get dressed and leave, slamming the front door behind her.