Dirty Sexy Saint (Dirty Sexy 1)

She dipped her head to the other side of his neck, her soft laughter warm and damp against his skin. “That’s what I’m counting on,” she said into his ear. “I’ve had enough of soft and easy and romantic with other guys, and especially Harrison, who won’t even touch me between my legs because he’s obsessed with cleanliness and doesn’t like anything on his fingers or hands.”

What the fuck? Clay thought, trying to wrap his mind around what she’d just said, but she wasn’t done destroying his sanity.

“That kiss this morning with you…just thinking about it and all the things you said to me, about how you want to take me hard and deep and how you want me on my knees while I…suck your cock, it makes me…”

“Wet?” he suggested when she seemed unable to finish her sentence. God, he ought to be putting an end to her seduction, not encouraging her to continue!

She rubbed her legs together restlessly, as if to confirm what he’d suggested, and the way she shifted on his lap made him impossibly harder against her ass.

“That’s definitely one of the things,” she said, her amused voice tickling his ear. “But it also makes me want so much more. Like to know what it would feel like to have your mouth on me and your tongue giving me pleasure. Or what you would feel like sliding deep inside of me.”

She sounded so prim and proper, when he was dying to hear dirtier, more shocking words fall from her lips. Like what it would feel like to have him eat her pussy like he was starving and suck her clit into his mouth until she came on his tongue. Or what it would be like to have his cock driving into her tight heat as he fucked her until she splintered apart and screamed his name. But good girls didn’t do or say things like that—

“I don’t want to be a good girl anymore,” she said, somehow so in tune to him she’d read his mind. Pressing her lips against his neck, she licked his skin with her soft tongue, making him shudder with the need to feel her mouth and tongue stroking along his dick. “I want to be very bad with you, Saint Clay.”

Breathing hard, he lifted his hand and twisted his fingers into her hair, then tugged her head back so he was looking into her eyes, which were so dark and dilated he wanted to drown in all that sweet sensuality.

“I’m not a saint, Cupcake,” he said, even as he felt himself caving in to his own desperate hunger for this one woman alone. “Especially when it comes to fucking.”

“That’s good, because I don’t really want a saint,” she taunted softly, as she dragged her tongue across her bottom lip, then smiled sensuously. “I want a sinner.”

Just like this morning, she managed to provoke him past the point of no return. How did she manage that when no other woman ever could?

Her lashes fell to half-mast, and she parted those full pink lips, already breathless and flushed at the mere thought of him kissing her again. Fuck trying to be honorable, he thought, as the last of his self-discipline evaporated and his aggressive side surfaced.

If she wanted a sinner, well, sinning was what he did best.

Tightening his hold on her hair, he tipped her head to the side and didn’t hesitate to claim her mouth—hard, deep, and thoroughly. Just like he ached to claim her body.

But that wasn’t going to happen, so this kiss would have to suffic

e.

He swallowed her initial gasp and swirled his tongue over and around hers, dragging her further into his kind of debauchery. Her soft, supple mouth was made for sex and sin, and for sucking his cock, he thought with a fevered groan. Her flavor was deliciously addicting, and he knew kissing her would never be enough to quench this never-ending desire, or to sate the lust that threatened to consume him. But it had to be enough, because anything more would ruin her.

He didn’t do promises. He didn’t do love or forever. He was dark, and she was light. She was pure, and he was tainted and majorly fucked up. And she deserved so much more than he could ever offer her.

So for the second time in the same day, he was going to turn down a sure thing. Jesus, when did I become so fucking chivalrous? He told himself he didn’t want Samantha to have regrets, but what he really feared was that once he knew what it felt like to be buried deep inside of her, he’d never want to let her go.

He ended the kiss, and a needy moan escaped her lips as she opened her eyes. He ignored the clear disappointment in her gaze and the throbbing ache in his balls. “It’s late, Samantha,” he said. As an excuse, it was a pitiful one.

Surprisingly, she didn’t argue. “It is late, and I need a long, hot shower.” She slid off his lap and stood but held his gaze as a slow, daring smile touched her kiss-swollen lips. “Are you coming up?”

There was no mistaking the invitation in her words, but he shook his head and held firm, because he already knew how tempting it was to share a shower with her, and tonight she was completely sober. “No. Not for a while.”

Amusement etched her features, even as she pinned him with a gutsy look. “Afraid I’ll try and have my wicked way with you?”

“Not at all.” No, he was more afraid that he’d corner her like a lust-crazed animal and finish what they’d started. It wasn’t as though she was putting up any kind of struggle, and he honestly didn’t know how much longer he could turn down her advances.

“Okay then,” she said with an easy shrug and a too-knowing smile, clearly not believing him for a second. “Good night, Saint.”

Yeah, she was mocking him with the nickname, so he did the same. “Good night, Cupcake.”

She laughed, the lighthearted sound making him smile as she walked away, leaving him to wonder what her next plan of attack would be. And whether he’d have the strength and fortitude to resist.

Chapter Seven

Samantha closed the hardcover novel she was reading—a current best seller that had been lying on the coffee table—and exhaled a frustrated sigh. Three long days had passed since the night in the bar with Clay, and he’d made himself deliberately scarce ever since. He was gone when she woke up in the morning, and he remained downstairs long after closing while she returned to the apartment alone. For all she knew, he slept downstairs at the bar, as well.