Page 51 of Property of Saint

Drily, I ask, “You think they’ll be finished with Skunk by now?”

He doesn’t bite at the bait I’ve thrown out. “Let’s just go see who’s around.” He moves to get his clothes, sliding his boxers then his jeans up his legs, pulling on a T-shirt, then sitting on the bed to do up his boots. Then he passes me what I’ve been wearing, his eyes intent on me as I do a reverse striptease.

Drawing in a breath, I point to my crutch, he gives it to me, then says, “Fuck it. Hold on to that.” That being my walking aid as he sweeps me up into his arms and carries me out of the door, along the hallway, and down into the club room.

We must have been talking for some time as the club room is full of his brothers, their extracurricular activities clearly finished for now. And not only that, there are the skimpily clad women, and what they are doing with some of the men makes me turn my face into Saint’s chest to hide my blush.

Either ignoring or pretending not to notice my reaction, he holds me tight in his arms, only letting me go when we’re in front of the bar where he manoeuvres me onto a bar stool and props my crutch within easy reach.

Heathen nods at his VP and raises a brow toward me. “Beer,” Saint demands, then turns to me questioningly.

“Beer’s good,” I reply.

They obviously have a barrel on tap as two glasses are filled and placed in front of us. I take a sip, at least their choice of brew here is good. I try another just to make sure. Then I risk surveying the room behind me. Freak getting his dick sucked off makes me wonder whether he’s a single dad or if Ace’s mom is still in the picture. Still, cheating bikers shouldn’t surprise me. Nor passing around women.

My jaw tightens as I turn back to Saint, and hiss, “If I’m yours, no one else is having me. And I’ll cut your dick off if you put it near any of these bitches.”

He leans in. “Absolutely no man here is going to touch you, but if they happen to walk in when my dick’s in your pussy, well, they’ll just see how much they’re missing out.”

“Not into voyeurism,” I snarl back, while having to admit that I might not be as averse to the idea as I’m making out. Or that’s what the sudden clenching of my stomach is telling me.

I’ve made him smile, or rather, the corners of his mouth turn up, not quite a smirk, but close enough. It’s as if I’ve challenged him.Oh fuck, I really haven’t thought this through about being with a biker.

“What’s she doing here, VP?” Tempest asks.

Rather than answering, Saint curls his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me to him, so hard I have to balance both hands against his chest to stop myself from toppling from the bar stool. There’s no other word for it, he devours my mouth, and as if he’s a drug that I’m already addicted to, I give myself over to him, holding nothing back. I forget where I am, my good arm clutches at him. It’s the loud clearing of a throat that brings me back to earth.

“Really, VP?”

Saint takes his time before gradually withdrawing his tongue and removing his lips from mine. He gives me a satisfied smirk before turning a glare on the sergeant-at-arms. “You got a problem?”

“Only me and the rest of the club,” he drawls in response. He glances at me, “No offence to you, darlin’,” then he switches his gaze back to Saint. “You really think you can get this voted on in church?”

“Let’s fuckin’ find out,” Bullseye’s distinctive voice growls, his tone giving nothing away. “We’re all here, let’s get this settled now. Heathen? You keep your fuckin’ eye on her. She goes nowhere, you understand?”

As the prospect nods, the prez circles his hand in the air. “Church, now!” he shouts.

The room empties rapidly.

Under the prospect’s watchful eye, I drain my beer. My heart is racing. If Saint isn’t allowed to claim me, then this might be my last night on earth. I’m really not in the mood when one of the scantily clad women steps up beside me.

Raising a brow, I turn to look at her. She’s sneering at me. On my part I’m taking in the heavy makeup, well, excusing the swollen lips and the lack of lipstick that Freak’s probably wearing around his dick. Mind you, I’ve not got much to compete. Skunk’s blow to my face is at least red, if not already bruising, and with my sling and cast, I don’t look a prize. Still, I wait with interest to hear what she’s going to say to me.

She doesn’t disappoint. “Don’t know who the fuck you are, but I know this club. And no one here has an old lady. And,” her eyes traverse my body, from my face to my legs, “And girl, you ain’t got nothing to offer more than me and my sisters here.” Said ‘sisters’ are approaching and nodding their heads in agreement. “You ain’t got much up here,” she puts her hands under her copious breasts and plumps them up as if for my inspection to make her point obvious.

“We ain’t got time for bitches who come in and try to take our men,” another of them says.

And here I was, pitying the women who were forced to service men in a one-percenter club. That they could not only be willing, but possessive of the bikers, was something I hadn’t actually considered. I suppose I can take it that whatever they’d been doing when I first walked in, they were consenting. Enjoying it? Maybe, or perhaps they just thought it might lead to a relationship.

“Saint’s mine.” Another of the club bunnies or whatever they call them, pushes herself to the fore.

I look down and say lazily, “Don’t see any ring on your finger.” I can’t afford to be jealous. I knew Saint had sex on tap before I appeared. But for some, probably certifiably insane reason, I trust that he’ll be faithful to me going on. Because if not, I’ll carry out my threat and castrate him.

“You’re not wearing his property patch,” she retaliates.

For fuck’s sake, I’ve had enough of this. In the unlikely event Saint’s brothers will agree to me being his, I’ll be his woman and will need to stand up for myself. I can’t be seen as a doormat, someone who’s weak. Of course, the more likely outcome of their meeting is what I expect, I’ve not much to lose.

Taking my good hand, I strike her around the face, surprised at myself that I’ve chosen violence. Then I realise the predicament I’m in as she draws back her arm to retaliate.I’m precariously balanced on this stool, only one arm working.

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