His Saint (Forever Wilde 5)

“Oh god, Augie.” He gasped. “Fuck, look at you.”

Lord only knew how I looked, but I felt utterly debauched. Surely my hair was a rat’s nest, the pale skin of my face raw from his beard scruff, and my lips dry and chapped from all the kissing. The wet splatters across my skin felt cool in the open air, and I shivered.

Saint’s blond hair was sticking out everywhere like a mad scientist, and his face turned smiley like a kid with a giant lollypop.

“You look pleased with yourself,” I pointed out. “And you proved my point about being dominant. I stood no chance.”

His smile dropped. “Thank you for trusting me, Augie.”

My confusion must have showed because he hurried to continue.

“With… I mean… your first time… doing anal. Are you… was it okay?”

His hand came down from where he still knelt beside me to brush through my hair. It was a sweet, affectionate gesture that changed the entire tone of the conversation.

“More than okay,” I confessed. “Thank you for caring.”

“Of course I care. I don’t want to ever hurt you or do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. There’s a difference between being dominant and being an asshole.”

“You’re not an asshole.”

“You’re biased. Besides, you haven’t known me very long.”

The comment stung because it was the truth. But I wasn’t about to let him disparage the guy I’d come to… care about. Respect. Like.

“True. But I’d like to,” I admitted. The heat infusing my face revealed just how true those words were.

“Ask me anything,” Saint said, shifting off the bed before reaching a hand out for me. He pulled me off the bed and led me to the bathroom.

I felt put on the spot, so I distracted myself with surreptitious glances at Saint’s blessedly tight ass.

It was enough to make me believe in god. Someone big and powerful had to have created that shit.

“You coming?”

My eyes shot up to catch Saint grinning at me. Clearly he could read my mind and see what kind of thoughts I was having about his bare body.

“Huh?”

“Shower time. Come on.”

He reached out an arm from the large walk-in shower space and gently pulled me toward the warm spray. I immediately walked into his embrace and leaned my head on his chest while his strong arms wrapped around me.

“You were going to ask me something,” he rumbled against the top of my head.

“You have a really nice butt,” I admitted. “I forgot what I was going to ask.”

His chuckle vibrated between us.

“You should take the USB key to the bank. Put it in a safe-deposit box.”

I pulled my head back to meet Saint’s eyes. “Do you really think I need to do that? It’s hidden pretty well here. Or I could put it in the ground safe on the property.”

Saint’s hands came up to cup my face, and worry marred his expression. “Augie, I’d rather it not be on the property if it’s the reason you’re in danger.”

My stomach tightened at the concern he had for me. I wasn’t sure the last time anyone had looked out for my safety because they cared about me. Sure, my mom and grandfather had cared about my safety, but it had always seemed to be more about protecting my family’s reputation than myself.

I stood on my toes to press a kiss of gratitude to his lips. “Okay,” I murmured against his soft mouth. “Thank you for caring.”

Suddenly, Saint’s face hardened into a scowl. My heart skipped a beat—something inside me worried I’d misstepped.

“Finish washing up and get back in that bed,” he said in a gruff voice. “We need to get a few things straight.”

Chapter 30

Saint

Hearing Augie thank me for the second time in a row for basic human decency set off all my warning bells. It made me fucking crazy. Clearly, no one had treated him well enough in his life for him to expect that as his due. And that needed to change.

Once we got showered and dried, I led him back to bed, pulling back the thick stack of covers to let him slide between the soft sheets in front of me. I moved in beside him and pulled him around until we were lying on our sides, face-to-face. A slice of bright daylight landed across his shoulder from a nearby window, reminding me it was still morning.

His dark hair was wet, and a few thick strands were sticking up like a rooster’s comb from where I’d rubbed a dry towel through it in the bathroom. His clean face looked young and smooth despite the two-day beard on his cheeks. I reached a finger out to brush across the softening stubble.

“You’re beautiful,” I said softly. “If I haven’t told you that already, I’m an idiot.”

Augie’s eyes widened and his throat bobbed with a swallow. Before he could say anything, I continued.