Page 307 of Vicious Saint
He motions for me to go first, so I do.
And Saint wouldn’t be Saint if he didn’t squeeze my ass the entire time.
“Nowthisis the money, baby.” He holds his arms out wide, walking backwards into a makeshift bedroom. “Where the real magic will happen.”
I’d laugh at his ridiculousness if it wasn’t decorated so damn pretty.
Moody. Obviously. With two dim Moroccan lights hanging from the ceiling, a king mattress low enough to kiss the floor, dressed in dark shades of grays, purples, and whites. Girly, but nottoogirly for a guy to bitch about sleeping on. Well, besides the fluffy throw pillows I know damn well Theory had something to do with.
“There’s a full bathroom too.” Saint wiggles his eyebrows. “For when I get you nice and dirty.”
This time, I do laugh at the ridiculousness.
“Even when you’re a sap, you’re a pig.”
He plops down on the bed, grin still in place as he rubs the area next to him for me to sit.
I pad my way over, and to my surprise, Saint doesn’t jump my bones the second my ass hits the mattress. Instead, his fingers dance through the strands of my hair.
“You really like this place, Jimi?”
“I adore it so much, you have no idea.”
Saint’s expression turns genuine, but he stays quiet as he continues playing with my hair.
“Why’d you do this for me?”
“Because I love you,” he states plain as day. “And I knew it’d earn me the smile your eyes got on me right now.”
What’s crazy? I didn’t even realize I was smiling.
Then again…Saint’s been making it pretty hard not to lately.
“I love you too, Letterman, and I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done.”
“More like everything Ihiredsomeone to do.”
“That’s not the point.” I scoot close enough to rest my legs across his lap. “And I’m not just talking about the studio. I’m talking about how you’ve been loving me. Trusting me. Being honest with me when everyone else still refuses to.”
Pain flickers in his gaze, but as soon as I see it…it’s gone.
“You okay?” I ask regardless, unsure of what I could’ve said to make him upset.
“How can I not be?” He scoffs. “You’re stroking my pretentious ego. Although…I’d be a lot happier if you were stroking a pretentioussomething else.”
With my best devious grin, I push Saint back on the bed, hoisting myself up to straddle his hips. “Tell me more about thissomething elseyou speak of.” Sliding out of my coat and tossing it on the floor, I add, “And how I can show my appreciation.”
Saint’s eyes glitter with hunger as he watches me roll my hips, the growing erection behind his sweatpants rubbing hard against my already aching pussy. Truth is, I wanted him the second I spotted our aprons on the table.
I pull my sweatshirt over my head, tossing it in the same direction of my coat. Leaving me, dry humping Saint, in nothing but high waisted leggings and a sports bra.
His version of lingerie.
The sting from his nails clawing into my hips makes me hiss.
“Fuck, you’re killin’ me in that bra.”
Like I said…
