Page 90 of Dirty Saint

I paused, taking in her words before I started to laugh. She didn’t want me to tell Joker because it turned her on to sneak around with me. I agreed it was hot, but I felt guilty not fessing up with Joker. Still, if she wanted to play for a bit longer, I could do that. It’s not like there was a rush to tell Joker. Everything was fine other than the guilt swimming in my stomach. I could deal with that for Tori. Especially if it meant the hot sex with her continued.

“Fine. We can play for a little while, but I want to tell him. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

And I did. I was ready to stake my claim.

27

Tori

Imelted.Rightthereon the beach with the ocean breeze rustling my hair. Koah did that to me—the past couple of nights had been the most amazing of my life. The sex. The sleeping in his arms. It was like our past never happened. There was only us and the happiness he gave me.

I held on to him on the ride home, breathing in him and branding my brain with the feelings of him being so close and marking my memories with the moments we shared over the past couple of days. I wasn’t sure how things would go once we were back in Atlanta, but I had to trust Koah. If he said he wanted to tell the world, then it meant we felt the same. I only wanted to delay that because part of me wanted to keep him to myself for a little longer. I hadn’t realized before what it meant for Koah to claim me openly. It meant inviting people into what was ours, and I wasn’t ready for that yet.

His bike vibrated beneath me, making the already overly sensitive flesh between my thighs ache. It was ridiculous how much I wanted him. All the time. Every minute of every day. How the hell was I supposed to focus on anything else when all I could think about was having him inside me? Around me. Engulfing me.

It was what had happened earlier that morning. Waking up, basically on top of him, and feeling his stiff cock against my thigh. I couldn’t take it. I had to feel him. I needed to feel him. I could hardly believe I had been bold enough to kick my pants off, pull his down, and climb on top of him, waking him already inside me. Not that he complained. If anything, he seemed to love it.

We drove for a while, stopping for a late breakfast at Waffle House, of all places, and to get gas before we pulled into my apartment complex. It was like I was seeing the place through fresh eyes. It really was a shithole, and I knew I needed to get Gracie out of there.

Soon.

It was on my to-do list.

He parked in front of my building, and we got off his bike, him helping me. I loved the way he lifted me from his bike. The way he handled me like I was weightless and small. I had never felt so cared for—so precious. I could get used to it.

“We have some shit to take care of this week, but,” he said, reaching into his backpack and pulling out my smaller bag alone with a phone, “I’ll text you.”

I took the phone and held it out to him. “What the hell is this?”

He chuckled. “A cell phone. You don’t have one, and you need one.”

I pushed the phone into his chest, anger sparking in my stomach. “No, thank you. I didn’t sleep with you for a phone.”

He covered my hand, holding it and the phone to his chest, and the smile slipped from his face. “You’re not serious.”

“I’m very serious. I can do for myself. I don’t need anyone’s help.”

That was not what any of this was about. I wanted to be with Koah for Koah. Not for the shit he could give me. I wasn’t that kind of girl, and I was offended that he thought so.

He moved into me, his large chest pressing into me, and he shoved the cell phone into my back pocket. His nostrils flared, and I could tell I had pissed him off by not accepting his gift.

“That’s not what this is about,” he barked.

I placed my hand on my hip and pinched my lips, annoyance and sarcasm swimming through me. “Oh really? Then explain. What’s this about? Why are you giving me a phone if not for payment? I know I like to play like one, but I’m not a whore, Koah.”

We were being loud, the people around the parking lot looking over at us and listening in.

He leaned in close, his large hand engulfing my cheek before moving down and wrapping around my throat. “The phone’s for me, not you,” he confessed. “I need peace of mind knowing you can call for help when you’re here alone. Also ...” He contemplated his next words. “I’ll be away for a few days dealing, and I can’t stand the thought of not hearing from you.”

His light eyes scanned my face, the muscle in his jaw popping with his angry confession. The insult and annoyance in me shifted, and pleasure moved over me. He was worried about me and needed to hear from me. That was why he gave me a phone. I supposed I could live with that.

Instead of responding, I pulled him in and kissed him hard, breathing in him and enjoying the feel of his mouth on mine—his tongue—and his body pressed against me. His hand tightened around my throat, and I felt myself grow wet for him all over again. Would I ever get enough of this man?

I broke away first, not willing to give the crackheads sitting around out front a show. He breathed deep, his hand releasing my throat.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he said, dipping down to place a kiss on my collarbone.

“Not if you kill me first.”

---