Page 23 of Giving It to the Monster

“You didn’t fail me, Saint. I failed us. I left.”

She placed her hand on his, and he couldn’t help but notice how much smaller she was than he was. Grasping her fingers, he pressed a kiss to her hand, inhaling her scent.

“I bet your dad was happy to see me go,” she said.

“He didn’t complain about it, and he got a more obedient son.”

She nodded. “He did tell me that when it came to you, he’d win.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your father would tell me to stay away from you. You had responsibilities within the club that had nothing to do with me. He said that I made you weak, and you needed to learn to be strong. Also, he said I was only going to do what women do. Leave when the going gets tough.” She snorted. “I guess he was right.”

“I never knew.” He’d told his old man to stay away. “I always tried to keep the club away from you.”

“Is that why you won’t take me to the club?”

Saint turned to stare at her. The club had made her run once before. What if she ran again? Fuck, he wasn’t this kind of guy. He wasn’t a pussy. The world knew him as a monster. He was the guy who’d killed his own father, and then wiped out the members who refused to follow his leadership. He was the kind of man who killed without batting an eyelid.

“The club has changed a lot. You’d be surprised.”

“I bet. You’re the Prez.”

“That I am.” He opened the car door, bringing an end to their conversation.

“I’ll start looking for my own place.”

“You don’t have to. I’m happy for you to be here.”

“I can’t stay here indefinitely. I need to get my own place, get a job, get back on my own two feet.”

He locked the car and followed her up toward the door. She held the bag that contained the dildo and the butt plug. When they had been younger, he’d not had any special toys to use on her, nothing to have her screaming his name.

Saint watched as she walked straight toward the kitchen, putting the items on the counter.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

“Okay.”

He walked up to his bedroom, closed and locked the door, before heading into his en-suite shower.

Running the water, he removed his clothes, and climbed into the stall.

Closing his eyes, he lifted his face to the running water.

“Tell me what you love about me?” Natasha asked, locking their fingers together.

He stared down into her pretty green eyes. They had made love, and it had been perfect. Each time he was inside her, he truly felt like he’d come home.

“Everything. I love your smile, your laugh, your kindness. I love that you’re hard assed, and you kick some serious ass.” She laughed, arching up. “And what I love most is that you put up with me.”

“Always, Saint, always.”

It hadn’t been always. Turning around, he grabbed some soap and lathered up his body. Nigel had advised him to go and have a chat with Simon. He had all of the fucker’s details, and it would be so easy to do.

He washed his body, ignoring his rock hard cock. There was no way he was going to masturbate. He wasn’t that far gone yet.

Once he was done in the shower, he entered the bedroom, and grabbed his cell phone. Dialing Rage’s number, he waited for his VP to pick up.

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