Saint (Hot Shots 4) - Page 8

“I want you, and don’t think I didn’t hear you dancing around that other topic.” Saint tucks a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Fine, but don’t say I’m not warning you now. I can be a little too much to handle.” I’m saved by the waitress, Mary, who’s here to take our order. Saint’s watchful eye is still on me the entire time, probably wanting to understand what I’ve said, but I’m not willing to explain just yet, not if it comes at a risk of losing him already.

Seven

Saint

Christ, my heart went for broke after seeing her almost fall. And I’ve been a field medic, worked down in the trenches of war, been in and out of hospitals more than I can count. But seeing the helplessness in Emerson’s eyes as she was starting to fall, like she was prepared for no one to catch her before she hit the ground. That shit did not sit right with me. That’s why I made a joke, ignored the rest for now, and made sure we both got our fill of food. I didn’t push the topic of seeing where this went between the two of us.

“Are you sure you trust me to decorate your place?” she asks as we’re walking to her vehicle. We stayed at Goodrich’s for well over three hours. I listened to Emerson talk about her niece and nephew, how she grew up in this town, and that even after going off to college in North Florida, she still found her way back to Oakhill.

“Positive. It’s not like I won’t be there with you some of the time. Breathe easy, sweetheart.” I move my hand, cupping the side of her neck, blue eyes looking up at mine, and, Goddamn, do I want to take her mouth.

“As long as you’re sure. It’ll have to be on Fridays and the weekends. Well, as long as Josey or Mack don’t have some event they want me at. Even then, we can always work around it as long as you’re flexible.” She wrings her fingers together.

“Emerson, we’ll make this work. Okay?” I squeeze her neck, my thumb gliding over her pulse point.

“Okay,” she purrs in a low keening moan.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” I only give her a fraction of a second before I take her lips, soft and pliable underneath my own. I figured Emerson would have been hesitant at first, but with the way her greedy hands are digging into my sides, how she’s arching her neck, seeking more, fuck, this woman is going to sink me to my knees, have me begging for anything she’s willing to give me.

Our kiss is just beginning, her tongue sneaking out. My other hand moves to her lower back, bringing us closer together, the hitch in her breathing letting me know she feels my hard cock against her lower stomach. I take it up a notch, walking us until her back meets the side of her Jeep.

“Damn, sweetheart. You’re heating me up from the inside out.” My mouth attaches to hers again, my tongue sweeping inside, hers tangling with mine, and it takes everything I have not to slide her skirt up, unbuckle my pants, and take her right here.

“Saint,” she moans. I leave her mouth. This isn’t the time, and I definitely don’t want her thinking this is all I’m here for. Because I’m not. Oh no, I’m in this for the long haul.

“I feel it too. Now, if you don’t have plans tomorrow night, I’ll pick you up. We’ll go to the house, get a feel of what will work, maybe order some dinner, and enjoy the back deck.” I don’t ask, I tell her what we’re doing so she doesn’t have the opportunity to say no. Underhanded, I know, but it works when she responds with a nod of her head. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” I kiss her forehead, help her into her vehicle, watch until she’s got it in gear, then I head to my own truck.

I have a few phone calls to make on the hour-long journey back to Cocoa Beach, and as much fun as it’s been hanging with Cruz and occasionally Jax, I’m ready to have a place of my own. My first call is to my parents back home, then I’ll round it out with Rome. And if I know him, we’ll shoot the shit longer than I will with my parents. I met Rome when I was looking to invest in some commercial real estate. It made me a nice chunk of change, and I found a friend in the process. It’s been an all-around win in my eyes.

Eight

Emerson

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” I tell Misty. We’re FaceTiming, well, I am. She’s sitting on her back porch drinking a glass of wine while I go through options on what to wear.

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