Page 30 of Secrets Unveiled

I shift my attention from him to Saxon, who now has his head lowered while he brushes his hands over his head. Looking back at Saint, I startle. When I turn, I almost bump right into his chest. I hadn’t heard him get up.

“Mine.” One word is all he says. His tone is a low whisper, laced with so much promise. I am his, and he is reminding me. Fuck, I had been so worried I hadn’t thought about how Saint would react to Dante asking for another date. Saint’s hands are by his sides, curled into tight fists, as if he needs to release the pressure coursing through his blood.

“There was no mention of this guy, Dante, when we went up north. Who is he to Damien and how the fuck did they, whoever they are, find his body? It’s the quarry, for fuck’s sake.” Saxon slams his hands on the table, rising from his chair and turning to look at the club’s insignia hanging on the wall: a large gold crown sitting crooked on top of the large A that represents The Kings’ Aces. Saxon walks over to the wall, hands in his pockets as he looks up at the mural.

“Did you forget already, witch stick? Or do I need to remind you? You belong to me now. No one else.” Saint’s lips are dangerously close to my ear as he whispers so low I almost can’t hear him. My body is tingling all over; I’d been worried about the consequences of their actions, but now my body can’t help the desire to have Saint’s lips all over my most sensitive spots. I put my hand on his chest to put some distance between us before Saxon turns around, but the rumble that vibrates against my hand tells me all I need to know. He doesn’t move, not an inch, as I press into him. We are going to get caught. I can feel it.

As if he knows Saxon’s body language, Saint takes one step back seconds before Saxon turns around to peer at the pair of us.

“This is what we’re going to do. Sage, you’re going to go on this date like you were initially going to before he mentioned Damien. You stick to your plan, but instead of breaking it off with him, I need you to get close to him.” The audible growl that comes from Saint is so loud, but Saxon doesn’t flinch, so I assume he doesn’t hear it. “We need to find out his connection to Damien, and how he’s flown under our own fucking radar.”

“You think that’s wise? Sending your sister in when we don’t even know how he’s connected? It’s too dangerous.” Saint is worried, and I can’t blame him. Now that I know Dante was friends with Damien, it’s started to make me worried about his own intentions. However, concerned or not, this date could lead us to the person who killed my father.

“I’m fine. I can do this.” What the hell am I thinking? Dante seems like a genuinely nice guy; however, I hung out with him once at the club and for like five minutes at the exhibit before everything went to shit. He is still a stranger to me, and now meeting up with him makes me nervous, anxious even, at the thought of his connection to the fire.

“One of us will be there with you the whole time. You won’t be alone. One of us will be watching the whole time.”

“Me.” Saint speaks in a tone I’ve never heard before. Dark and thunderous, dominant and possessed. Heat rolls off his large frame, making my skin feel insanely hot all of a sudden, even with the air conditioner at its usual sixty-eight degrees.

“Perfect. I would myself, sis, but I got some shit I need to do that evening with Finn. Saint won’t let anything happen to you.” Coming up to stand in front of me, Saxon puts his hands on my shoulders and leans in to kiss my forehead. “You okay with this, sis?” A question to which I’m not entirely sure of the correct answer. But I give him a confident nod and a small smile.

“Like I said, Saint’s got you. He’ll protect you.” He gives Saint a fist bump and a manly pat on the back before leaving the two of us alone in the meeting room. The room suddenly begins to close in on me. His presence is smothering. I can feel him all over me as he turns to face me, his now dark silvery eyes boring into me with so much lust, so much anger, I can’t hold his gaze.

“So, you agreed to meet up with Dante?” I’m not sure if it is a question or a statement. “Have you forgotten already, or do you need to be reminded of whose cock you’ve been riding the past couple of days?” He takes a step closer to me. “Whose name you’ve been screaming.” Another step. “Or whose bed you’ve been sleeping in?” Our chests are practically touching at this point as my back hits the wall. Raising his hand, he brushes a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.

“Because I haven’t forgotten, baby. I can’t stop picturing your sweet pussy dripping for me every time I close my eyes.” My breath hitches at his confession, the room finally caging me in and making me feel so claustrophobic I want to run. “Since it seems like you’ve forgotten who I am already, the next time we’re alone—which will be very, very soon, by the way—I’m going to remind you just who your tight little pussy belongs to.” Any woman would be terrified at those words, so why do I suddenly feel an unmistakable wetness building between my thighs? He’s right. I do belong to him. My body’s response to his words makes it very clear.

“Saint.” I don’t know what to say. I’m not agreeing to date Dante. Hell, I want to break it to him gently that I don’t want to continue whatever this is, but Saxon has different plans. I don’t want anyone else; I’ve never craved a single soul as much as I crave Saint. No one else elicits the emotions, the feelings, like he does.

“That’s right, baby. You belong to Saint. I’ll see you at home. Be good.” He leans in and kisses my forehead. Heat and warmth instantly spread throughout my body from my head to my toes. When I open my eyes, he’s already at the door, his back disappearing as the door closes behind him.

He is right—I am his. And I love every bit of it.

SAINT

What in the actual fuck is Saxon thinking? Sending his little sister, my girl, into a situation with someone who could very well be the cause of, or at the very least, involved in, their father’s death? I love my best friend, but he must be losing his damn mind if he thinks sending Sage into this situation is a good idea. I’ve looked into Dante’s background again, trying to scan through everything possible and find anything that could be considered suspicious.

“Fuck!” I scream out in frustration. I’ve been sitting at the island for well over an hour now, but I can’t find anything.

“What’s got your panties in a twist, huh, big guy?” Frankie’s voice filters into the kitchen as he walks in and pulls out a water bottle.

“Nothing, just can’t figure out this background check,” I mumble, brushing my hands through my hair and leaning back in the barstool to ease the tension that’s been building in my back and shoulders. Footsteps come up beside me and bring my attention back.

“Who are you looking into?” I sigh and briefly give Frankie a condensed version of Sage’s upcoming date. I didn’t let slip about the body we discarded in the quarry. As much as I trust Frankie, Saxon and I have been adamant not to tell anyone about our secret plans to find out the real person who started the fire. All I divulge to him is Sage has a date with a man I don’t trust, and I’ve been looking into him. When I look up to meet Frankie’s eyes, he furrows his eyebrows just briefly before fixing his face and turning his back to me. Like I said, I trust Frankie, but what was that?

“Do you know the guy?” I ask, getting straight to the point. With his back still towards me, he responds, “Nah, I don’t think so. Thought I did, but it’s not the same guy.” He pulls his phone out and starts typing away. When he finally finishes, he turns back to me, a smile now spread across his face.

“Maybe you’re just being paranoid. Trust that Sage can handle herself. She’s a big girl.” He looks back down at his phone, sending off another quick text. “Listen, I got to go. Let Sax and Sage know I’ll be home if they need me.” With that, he leaves.

I can’t shake the feeling of unease Frankie gave me with our brief interaction earlier. I put that to the back of my mind the moment I hear Sage make her way down the stairs. Closing my laptop, I stand from my chair and meet her halfway. As I reached the foyer, I can’t help but stare at her as she descends the last few steps. My chest does this weird thing I’ve never felt before: it’s a similar sensation as someone knocking the wind out of me and that inability to catch a proper breath.

“Well, how do I look?” She spins around, her long, sleek black dress not even fanning out with her movement. No, her dress is plastered to her body, hugging every curve. I so desperately want to be the fabric against her skin. Her spaghetti straps sit delicately atop her shoulders, and the dip of her dress allows just enough cleavage to show, but not enough to be distracting. Hell, what am I saying? Her beauty is always distracting. Shit, what is Sage Wilder doing to me? I love it.

I don’t say anything, I just grab her by the waist mid-spin and pull her tight against my chest. Inhaling her sweet strawberry vanilla scent, I bury my face in the crook of her neck.

“There is not a word strong enough for how absolutely divine you look. However, I have to ask, why so dressed up for this punk? He doesn’t deserve to see you like this. Fuck, nobody does.” I can’t let her go; my arms remain around her waist, holding her steady as she stands on her tiptoes to reach my neck with her arms.

“Are you jealous, Saint?” Her tone is playful, but I am anything but playful at this moment. I’m not a jealous man; I’m simply protective, slightly obsessed, and utterly allured by all that is Sage. Okay, that sounds like it could be jealousy, but fuck it, whatever.

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