Page 42 of The Lies We Tell
His hands slip to my thighs, rough palms glancing up and down my skin. I get a feeling this answer isn’t for me, and I don’t know why. It’s like he’s thinking through a problem out loud, so I wait.
“I guess what I’m saying is sometimes what you believe in as a man has to take precedence over all other things. Like orders. And what others think.” He squeezes my hips. “What was done to you was wrong. What was done to you also involves the police, who are supposed to serve and protect. Sometimes, the organizations that want to do good in the world actually do the worst.”
His words ease my worry. “I should be appalled at what you’re suggesting. And maybe it makes me a coward that I would rather the men who took me were dead instead of in prison, always with the potential of parole. Maybe it makes me an awful human that I can’t stomach the process of being a witness. But I also can’t bear the idea of you getting hurt for me. I couldn’t live with that.”
“The risk of getting hurt comes with the job,” Saint says on a huff. And I get the feeling that there are layers to his words I don’t understand. “I’ll keep you safe, Briar. I promise.”
The words are barely out of his mouth before I press my lips to his.
16
SAINT
I’m fucked.
That’s my only thought when Briar kisses me like her life depends on it.
I’m sure in her eyes, it does.
I disassociate from every component of my life. I’m a man before I’m an ATF agent or an undercover MC member.
Right now, with those big brown eyes looking at me before they flicker shut, none of it really matters. Not when she’s so soft and warm in my arms.
I want this brave, courageous woman more than I’ve ever wanted anything else.
“Fuck, Briar,” I say, rolling us so she’s beneath me.
Her hands sink into my hair, and she greedily guides me back to her lips. I love a woman who knows what she wants. And I’m the man to give it to her. She isn’t holding back, so I’m not going to either.
Our tongues meet, and I savor the raw flavor of her. It’s primal. I want to consume her, but I bury the urge I have to bite her.
I sink my hips between hers, settling my hard cock right at the seam of her pussy, grinding back and forth. I know I got her off like this already, but I want to explore so much more of what turns my sweet Briar Rose on.
Her hands shift from my hair to dig into my ass as she takes what she needs.
Heat bleeds through my sweats, and I push up onto my hands. “I want to taste you.” I raise to my knees and slip her tank over her head. Her breasts are full, dusky nipples are pert and ready. I cup one and run my thumb over the stiff peak before bending down to suck it into my mouth.
“Saint,” she gasps, her back arching.
I squeeze the other while I suck on her. She writhes beneath me, her legs bending and stretching as she seeks the relief she needs. The urge to bite returns, and I gently do, starting wide on her breast, then narrowing down to her nipple.
She cries out at the sensation.
I kiss my way down her stomach, deliberately ignoring the tugs on my head to get me to return to her tits or move down to her pussy. “Patience,” I mumble against her soft skin.
I hear a chuckle, and it makes me smile.
My fingertips slip beneath the waistband of her shorts and ease them down her smooth legs. And then she’s lying naked before me. She’s beautiful and vulnerable, and there are still bruises on her body from what happened to her. My anger threatens to ignite all over again.
And I just bit her.
Jesus, I’m a freak.
“You sure you want this, sweetheart?” I ask, praying she doesn’t say no. I can reel it in if she needs me to, but I want to fall into this with her.
“I want to feel normal,” she says. “I want to reconnect with myself this way.”
I lean forward and steal another kiss from her lush mouth. Despite our conversation, it’s as hot as the first one. Then I return to her pussy because I need to know if it tastes as good as it feels. She pulls her knees up and opens her legs wide, exposing herself to me, and I love that she isn’t shy.
