Page 92 of Savage Saint

Genesis is done.

She’d argue if I said that out loud, but the woman curled against me can barely keep her eyes open.

By the time I get us off the floor, she’s pliant in my arms, cheek resting against my chest while I pick up our discarded clothes. No one will be allowed inside this building until the mat’s liner is removed, either.

That canvas is mine. My art.

First, I find my shirt, stand her up, and slip it over her head, making sure it covers everything before stepping into my jeans. Then my shoes. Within minutes, I have the rest of our shit gathered in one hand while guiding her toward a plastic chair.

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Mm-hmm.” That’s all I get. Adorable. And I reward her by pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before heading outside to shove everything into my saddlebag. When I come back, she’s slouching, eyes closed, and making whiny tired sounds.

Poor Pocket Doc is exhausted.

“Come here.” She doesn’t argue when I scoop her up; that alone tells me everything. Because if there’s one thing Genesis loves and complains about, it’s how I borrow and manhandle her. Secretly, we both know she likes it.

Even when I kidnapped her at the hospital, she never fought me the way she should have. Not out of fear, but there was this curiosity and attraction underneath the dangerously desperate moment. This heat between us has always been there, right from the first time our eyes met.

Today is also the first of many ways I’ll make up for that first meeting.

Picking her up, I carry Genesis outside and settle her on the bike in front of me. She’s tiny enough that I can do that, pinning her in place with one hand banded around her waist. The drive to my home is short, just a few minutes.

“Don’t move. Put your head back; I got you.” Her response? What sounds like an annoyed sigh, but then she melts against my chest as I cruise down the road. Moreover, I can’t help the pull of my lips when I’m around her.

This tiny, mouthy, and proud woman calls to every baser instinct inside of me.

It’s on a visceral level. Emotional, too.

The latter of which is not normal for a man like me.

I’m a killer. A criminal. I should be in jail, and yet being away from her—since that first day—feels wrong.

By the time we reach my house, Genesis is nearly asleep against me. I kill the engine and sit there for a few seconds, one arm still locked around her middle as she breathes slow and warm, her limbs languid while a low rumble comes from her stomach.

Dios. She is precious.

“Pocket Doc,” I call out, tapping her bare thigh a few times and getting nothing. I try again, this time running my fingers higher until I skim her messy cunt, dripping of me. That earns me a sigh, less annoyed, more appreciative. I run the pads of two fingers over our combined juices and rub them in a slow circle, adding just enough pressure to make her breath hitch. “You awake now?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Going to need words, beautiful.” Lower, and I dip the same fingers inside her entrance. Just to the first knuckle, then pull out. I repeat this a few times until she can’t help but rock her hips. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Can you look at me?”

Slowly, her eyes flutter open and her face tips up to mine. “I’ll only forgive you for waking me up if you make me come again.”

I reward her smart-ass remark with a kiss. This time, it’s slow and sweet. I’m in no rush, and she won’t be going home. Tomorrow I’ll take her back, but right now she’s here, and I always take care of what’s mine.

Her lips are soft beneath mine, warm and pliant as I brush over them once, then again. No rush. No fight for control. Just a lazy slide of our mouths while my hand settles on her hips, keeping her right between my legs on the seat, but that frustrates my little Pocket Doc.

“Behave.”

“I’m short. Need to be closer.”

That makes me pull back just long enough to take in her disheveled perfection, and before she can hiss out another complaint, I lift her and sit her back down facing me. Straddling me.

“Better?”

“So much better.” Genesis breathes out against my lips, her tongue licking across the bottom one before nipping it. “Are you going to kiss me for real now or continue toying with me?”