Page 41 of Cheater and the Saint
11
Leo
You know that scene in movies when the protagonist finally figures something out, and the clouds open up to reveal a stream of golden light, and a chorus ofHallelujahrings out? Well, maybe this wasn’tthatmelodramatic, but it was definitely a huge lightbulb moment.
I could get sex anywhere. All I had to do was walk into the club, make eye contact with someone and flash them a charming smile, and I could be in bed with them within the hour—or fucking them in the back room of the club.
As much as I enjoyed it, it had become predictable. Easy.
Saint was a challenge.
My lightbulb moment was when I realized why I was so interested in him—why I thought about him more than I cared to admit, and why I hadn’t screwed anyone else in weeks. It was because he was hard to get. Not hard to get because he wasn’t into guys, but because he was reserved and stubborn.
The chase excited me, making everyone else invisible as I zeroed in on my target.
Over the years, the chase had become nonexistent, and honestly, hooking up had become lackluster. Still fun, sure, but that excitement had disappeared.
Saint had rekindled that fire.
I smiled as I got dressed that morning. I still couldn’t believe he was a top. I’d one-hundred percent pegged him as a bottom, mainly due to his shyness and lack of confidence. That just went to show how assuming shit about people could be so far off the mark.
After slipping on a shirt and pushing up the sleeves, I left my room to find Saint standing at the kitchen counter.
His hip was cocked and his back was to me, giving me a nice view of his ass. It looked like he was reading something. Even in a simple pair of skinny jeans and a plain, blue T-shirt, he was too mouthwatering for words.
“Good morning,” I announced, brushing past him.
His blond hair was in its usual fixed style, making him look the part of the sexy nerd. Especially since he was wearing his glasses that morning. I didn’t quite know what to make of him at times. His arms were toned, as was his chest and lean torso, but he had such a pretty face—not that I minded. He was both stud and nerd, both shy and sharp-tongued.
“Morning,” he replied before lifting his mug to his lips.
We’d been doing that dance for so long. The casual morning conversations with the seductive glances, the occasionally flirting—mainly initiated by me—and the instances in the evenings where I’d back him up against the wall and give him a soft kiss on his neck, his mouth, and collar before he’d pull away.
Nothing else had happened between us. His smirk as he sipped his coffee and cocked that sexy as fuck hip told me he saw how much it was killing me, too. It was such a contradiction to the self-conscious guy from before. I was sure he still had some of that insecurity, somewhere, but he was pretty damn cocky now.
“So it’s October now,” I said, pouring the rest of the coffee into my cup.
“Wow, you know how to read a calendar,” Saint mocked, still looking at his phone. “I’m impressed.”
“Asshole.” I bumped my shoulder to his as I walked past him to the table. “I was just making conversation. You know, since you’re so talkative.”
“I didn’t know I was obligated to talk.”
Saint still had his back to me, and I tapped my finger on the tabletop. He wasreallyplaying hard to get.
“Why don’t you come sit at the table like a normal fucking person, Frosty? I’m tired of looking at your back as I talk to you.”
“Stop lying.” Saint turned and faced me, arching a brow. “You were looking at my ass, not my back.”
“What if I was?” I challenged, returning his cocky smile with one of my own. “Will you punish me? Maybe smack my ass a little before you take it?”
Saint blushed and averted his eyes to the table.
There he is. Finally, I had an effect on him. I hid my smile behind my cup and took a drink.
“I need to finish getting ready,” he muttered, still not meeting my eyes, before he started down the hall.
“You look fine to me,” I said, hearing his steps stop before starting up again.
