“Saint would probably jizz in his pants,” Bethany snorts and then downs half her glass.
“I don’t actually know how to hit someone though,” I admit after a moment, staring down at the black painted table top.
“I can teach you,” Princess offers with a wink and a smile full of mischief.
I don’t know if I’ve stumbled upon trouble or two of the best types of friends I could’ve wished for.
“How long do you think it’s been since the guys went to Church?” I glance around, noticing a few of them in the bar drinking as well. They weren’t here when we first sat down, the place was empty. Princess and Bethany had to school me on the concept of biker church too. I still don’t understand why they call it that, but whatever.
“They should be done soon.” Bethany glances at Princess. “Right, P?”
“It’s been a few hours, so they should be fine by now. I’m sure someone would’ve said something if that wasn’t the case.”
“Jesus, the time has flown by,” I mutter, as Saint finally comes walking toward me. “Oh, Saint! Are you guys all done?”
He flashes a sad smile. “Yeah, baby girl, I think so.”
“So, isn’t that a good thing?” I thought church was where they discussed the important club stuff, or at least that’s what the ol’ ladies told me.
“Not in this case.” He grabs my glass and chugs the rest of my margarita then refills it. “You havin’ a good time with these troublemakers?”
“Yeah, they’re a lot nicer than the other women around here.”
“Yeah. We need to talk.”
“Okay…?”
He grips my arm with one hand and the glass with the other. “Ladies, we’ll be back.” He leans in closer. “Can you walk all right?”
“I feel fine.” I wave him off, climbing down from my seat and attempt to stand.
My hand shoots to the table to steady myself. “Oh my God, those drinks did not seem that strong!”
The girls laugh at me, and Saint tucks me in closer, slipping his arm around my waist. “I got you; let’s go to my room for a bit.”
It takes longer than usual with my wobbly strides, but eventually, we make it. He lets me plop down on his bed, the fluffy mattress a welcome sight.
“Where’s Sinner?”
“He…uh…he’s resting.”
“That sounds so nice right now; maybe we should go to his room instead. We could all take a nap.”
“Not yet.” He shakes his head and sits so close the entire side of my body presses against his. With the alcohol helping me relax, all I can think about is these two finally having their way with me.
“I feel good, Saint. We could get naked like you mentioned earlier.”
A surprised chuckle falls from his lips, and he presses them to my forehead, leaving behind a soft, chaste kiss. “I like you drunk, baby; you’re fun.”
“Why do you call me that?” I mumble, lying back against his fluffy, sangria colored comforter. My shirt rides up, stopping just underneath my breasts and exposing my stomach as I rest my arms above my head.
“Fuck, you’re one sexy bitch,” he growls, crawling farther onto the bed, resting beside me. His fingertip draws a line from the top of my shorts, over my bellybutton and stops at the juncture between my breasts. I hold my breath the entire time, relishing in the sensation.
“Baby girl?” he asks, and I hum in response. “Because you’re the youngest Sinner’s ever had any interest in and hearing you call him daddy, kinda cemented it in place.”
“I like it,” I admit and yawn, the alcohol stupor overtaking my brain.
“Yeah?” His voice grows near as his lips find my neck, licking and nipping like he did before.