Chapter Thirteen
COPPER: ELEVEN A.M. Clubhouse.
That’s it. Short and sweet text command from Copper, which stuck to the president’s style, but something about the summons had Saint on high alert.
Maybe because you had your hands all over and in Beth last night.
Had Copper found out? Did someone drive by and spot them when he’d been too lust drunk to notice? Or was his guilty conscience playing tricks on him?
Fuck, he’d messed up royally last night.
He’d wanted her with a force that shook him to his core, and when it became clear she’d wanted him, too, he’d taken it.
Instead of getting it out of his system, the feel and taste of her only made his craving worse.
Maybe it was because he hadn’t come, at least not by her hand.
He’d jerked off furiously the second he got home, but his gut told him it wouldn’t matter.
If she got her hands or mouth on him, he’d become addicted.
Obsessed.
Even more than he already was, which felt impossible.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” he muttered as he stared at his phone.
Saint: I’ll be there.
He set the phone face down on the counter and reached for his protein shake. Two swallows in, his doorbell rang.
Saint frowned. He lived in a small two-bedroom cabin slightly off the beaten path. One of the best things about his place was the lack of solicitors or guests popping by for no reason. Even his sister knew to inform him before she showed up.
Could it be Copper? Was his president so fucking furious that he’d decided not to wait until eleven to castrate him?
“Fucking great,” he muttered as he walked to the door barefoot and dressed only in a pair of lightweight gray sweats. If he were going to die, it might as well be in a comfortable outfit in his own home. “Coming!” he hollered after the bell rang again.
He yanked the door open and lost his breath as his gaze fell on the woman he’d spent all night thinking about. “Beth.”
Her eyes darkened as her attention went straight to his bare chest. Jesus, if she gaped at him like that for more than two seconds, he’d be hard as a fucking spike and his pants couldn’t hide a cotton ball, let alone a raging boner.
“Hey. Um…” She licked her lips, and he nearly groaned.
“What are you doing here?”
His tone came out harsher than he’d meant, causing her to blink and jerk her focus to his face. “Sorry. I should have called.”
Sighing, he leaned against the door frame while folding his arms across his chest. “This have anything to do with the text I got from Copper demanding I meet him at the clubhouse at eleven?”
Beth grimaced. “Shit. I was hoping I’d beat him to it.”
He stepped back, making room for her. “Come on in.”
“Thanks. And I’m sorry for dropping by unannounced. I hate that shit. In my defense, I wasn’t thinking.”
He chuckled as he pointed toward the small, plush couch in his den. “That’s your defense?”
She shrugged. “Didn’t say it was a good defense.”
Her cutting wit had him smiling more than usual, even during these tense interactions. “Have a seat. Want some coffee or, I don’t know, a shot of tequila?”
Her laugh ran over his bare skin, making goose bumps rise.
“Nah, think I’ll hold off the booze. Not much of an early morning drinker.
And I’ve already had three cups of coffee.
Better not have any more unless you want me to vibrate out of here.
” She sat, bouncing a little as though testing the comfort of his couch.
“Um, take your time. I can wait while you get dressed or whatever.”
So, she found his half-naked state distracting, did she? He raised an eyebrow.
“Or not. It’s your house. Of course. You can do whatever you’d like.” Beth let out a tense laugh, then rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, I’m rambling. Sorry. I just… I kinda didn’t expect to see you again so soon after last night.”
Her cheeks turned pink.
“And then this morning happened and…”
“And Copper found out we fucked around last night?”
Her eyes nearly fell from their sockets. “What? No! No, no, no. God no. I’m pretty sure I would have had to knock him over the head with a frying pan to beat him here if that were the case.”
He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved as hell. “So then what’s all this about?”
Beth cleared her throat and angled so she could see him where he sat on the opposite end of the couch. “I told him about Jason. The whole story about Jason.”
“Ahh. And now, Pres knows I kept it from him.”
Biting her lower lip, she nodded. “I’m so sorry, Saint. I made sure he knew I basically forced you to go along with my plan.”
“You didn’t need to do that, Beth. I made my choice, and I stand by it. Copper was always going to find out, and my actions were always going to bite my ass. But I don’t regret it.”
She groaned. “Saint…”
“No, babe, stop feeling guilty. You must feel better now that it’s out there.”
She thought about it for a second, then nodded. “I do, for the most part. Still have to talk to my mom about it, but Copper and I had a good chat. It helped.”
“I’m glad. I’m also relieved as fuck he didn’t find out about last night.”
“Ha. Yeah.” Her weak laugh sounded through the quiet room right before his attention went back to his bare chest. He could feel her gaze like a caress, tracing all the tattoos he’d collected over the years.
As he sat there under her intense perusal, growing harder by the second, he could only think one thing.
Why the fuck didn’t I put a shirt on while I had the chance?
***
THE MAN WAS sexier than any one man had the right to be, and he wasn’t even trying.
He didn’t have to do a damn thing but sit there shirtless for her body to react.
Like last night, her nipples tightened to stiff peaks, and the lace of her bra was suddenly unbearable against the sensitive tips.
Heat pooled low in her belly, and she had to fight the urge to press her thighs together as her pussy clenched around nothing, remembering the talented way his fingers had filled her.
Her palms tingled with curiosity over the way his smooth, warm skin would feel as she ran them all over his body.
Even breathing became difficult. She had to fight to keep her inhales and exhales steady instead of panting over the sight of his naked chest.
Beth had obviously been turned on before.
She’d slept with a handful of men over the years, some of them great experiences, some mediocre, and in the last year, quite dreadful, but she’d never experienced this soul-rattling level of raw desire.
The longing felt more like an unrelenting prickle expanding beneath her skin.
The kind that couldn’t be ignored without going mad.
If he didn’t touch her to appease that itch, she’d go out of her mind with need.
Which meant she might end up in a padded room because nothing could happen. They could not cross that line again, not after her conversation with Copper this morning. Saint’s involvement with her already jeopardized his standing in the club. They could not make it worse.
And yet, the need persisted. Hell, it grew with every second in his presence.
She blew out a slow breath as she fought to come up with something to break the awkward silence. “I like your ink.”
Great, Beth, point out how you’re staring at his delectable chest.
He glanced down at his torso. “Thanks. Izzy did ninety percent of it.” As he spoke, he rubbed a hand over the muscular plane of his chest where multiple tattoos resided. The temperature in his house spiked at least fifteen degrees.
“And the last ten?”
His expression could only be described as a half smirk, half cringe. “My buddy did them from his garage when we were eighteen and high.”
She snickered as she winced. “Ah, back when you were making really good choices.”
That had him laughing out loud. “You have no idea how good.” He scratched his left pec where an inked bird, she didn’t know what kind, soared.
It seemed to be a bird of prey of some sort, but she knew shit about birds beyond the fact that his tattoo mesmerized her.
Izzy did outstanding work, and when he moved in the right way, the bird seemed to flap its wings.
“Maybe one day I’ll show you the ones my buddy did.
They’re not available to just anyone.” He winked.
Fucking winked.
Christ.
She fanned herself as sweat broke out across her hairline. “Is your air conditioning broken or something?” The temperature in the house felt near boiling.
“Nah, fully functional.”
Of course. Maybe he didn’t turn it on. Something was making the house unbearably warm.
Or maybe you’re a horny bitch who can’t walk away from the one man you can’t have.
Okay, she could do this. She could be a mature adult, stand up, and leave Saint’s damn house without giving in to her baser urges.
Every second of the night before had played through her mind countless times since she’d left him, with each memory being better than the last except for one very significant fact.
She hadn’t gotten to touch him.
To taste him.
To hear his moans.
To see him come.
And suddenly, it felt so wrong that it overwhelmed her.
But Saint had been the one to come to his senses last night, so she had to try today at least.
She stood. “Well, I’m gonna head out. I’ll—”
“Come here.” The command snapped out like the crack of a whip in the quiet house.
She stopped breathing.
Go to him.
Walk out the door.
The internal battle raged loudly and fiercely inside her head.
“Beth…” His voice beckoned her. A sensual promise for a repeat of last night. More forbidden pleasure no one would know about. No one could know about.
Instead of saying goodbye and running out the door as she should, since she’d already fucked up his life enough, she stepped toward him, drawn by Saint’s magnetic pull.