Category Archives: Romance

Hot Blacktop Ch. 10 – Italian

Rustic candles on wooden backgroundSaint drove up to Sienna’s country house and pulled into the drive. He sat staring, thinking for just a moment. He didn’t want to scare her when he went up to the door. Saint wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let her go, tell her that she would be safe, Danny would be safe. But, he didn’t think she would believe him.

Since the blowup with Danny two days ago, Sienna was the only thing on his mind. When she wouldn’t let him in yesterday, since she’d run away from him, from Danny, he’d panicked. When they say the eyes are the windows to the soul, Sienna’s soul was bleak. Her eyes were a vast ocean of pain, breaking waves cutting into the sand at shore, each slice digging deeper and deeper eroding the shore’s strength.

He closed his eyes and thought of Sienna when she was under him, how she had responded to him, how she had screamed for him in her pleasure. Saint would show her what they could have together, show her a future where he would cherish her heart.

He saw the front curtain move as he got out of his truck. Even if Saint couldn’t convince Sienna, at the moment, of what they were to each other, he knew she wanted him in her life. He took the porch stairs two at a time, and she opened the door before he reached it. A smile came to his face when he saw the skin tight dress she was wearing for him, but then he frowned when what greeted him appeared forced somehow.

“Hi,” Sienna said. She didn’t move so he walked into her personal space, grabbed and lifted her chin as he took her mouth with a gentle brush of his lips.

“Hey, baby.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t go,” Sienna said in an abrupt whisper. She tried to pull away, but he pulled her closer.

“You need a distraction, so I’m taking you to dinner, the little Italian place off Main downtown. You promised.”

“Right,” she responded looking away, but he turned her face back to his.

“Mm, hmm.” He kissed her soundly. “Grab your purse.”

They didn’t say much on the ride to the restaurant, but he glanced at her often just to be sure she was okay. Saint kept his hand on her in some way, caressing her hair, drawing a finger down her cheek, or keeping a hand on her leg. Her dress had ridden up when she’d gotten in the truck exposing her legs. It was a difficult thing to keep his need for her in check. He’d almost decided to turn the truck around, take her back to her place, and show her how he could make her feel loved, with his mouth, his hands, and more. He let his eyes wander every few seconds, enjoying the sight of her.

He pulled up to the front of the restaurant all too quickly, got out, helped her down and walked her to the door. “I’ll be right back after I park my truck. She smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but pull her in for another quick kiss that stirred his blood and made her eyes flare with heat. Her fingers dug into his biceps as he deepened the kiss one second longer. Then he made himself pull away.

“Mmm. That was nice,” Sienna said before Saint watched her eyes shutter. She looked away. He was getting to her, and it flustered her. He smiled to himself.

Once he had the truck parked he returned to Sienna. His eyes narrowed. Something was wrong, her body was stiff and her movements choppy. “Are you alright?”

Sienna whirled around. Saint caught her before she stumbled, grabbed her arms and held her close. Her hand went to his chest.

“You scared me.”

“What’s going on?” Saint wrapped his arm around her and stared into her eyes. She shook her head and didn’t answer.

“I thought I saw someone.” She tried to look away. “Never mind.”

He held her gaze with a finger on her chin. He finally nodded and gave her a little squeeze. “Come on. Let’s have dinner.” He moved her to the small hosting stand. Saint would address her scare later.

“Hey, Taz,” Saint said.

“Hey, Mr. Paulson. This way.”

Taz led them to the patio outside Sienna looked to him. He said, “Taz is an intern at Paulson’s.” He whispered in her ear. “He’s a good kid, starting out on scholarship this year through the local vocational school; a scholarship created in my sister’s name. It’s for kids who’ve overcome addiction.” He shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about his sister tonight.

“Just like you requested,” Taz said.

Sienna lifted an eyebrow when he helped her toward their table. “We have the whole patio to ourselves?” There weren’t any other place settings on the other tables.

The atmosphere was nice. Outdoor heaters staved off the chill brought on by late July in Michigan. He felt the goosebumps on her skin when they first stepped out of the warm restaurant. Nights below forty were more frequent than they had been just a few weeks ago. But, he could tell Sienna hadn’t expected all this. Good, he thought. Candles lit their area, the glow bounced their silhouettes off the stone walls, soft music played in the background, and the mood, he saw, captured her attention. He enjoyed the soft smile on her face as her shoulders relaxed. Taz smiled and set the menus on the table, and Saint pulled out her chair and kissed her neck below her ear. Just his nearness made her breaths come faster. He enjoyed her response more than he thought he could.

“I’ve noticed something about you,” Sienna said, tilting her head when she spoke the words.

“What’s that?” he asked as he sat down opposite her, but still close, intertwining his fingers with hers. Taz stopped back at the table with bread and a bottle of wine he preselected. She tried to pull away, but he held firm. She shook her head. He was determined to make this date special, and he hoped she believed it, believed in him. Saint wasn’t going to leave her.

“You have this habit, Saint, of helping people. A lot. Going out of your way. Don’t you worry people will take advantage?”

“Some people are worth it.” Saint brushed his lips across her knuckles. He watched her eyes widen in surprise and a shiver race across her body. Her eyes went heavy lidded. Saint would make her shiver much more, later.

They ordered another bottle of wine and entrees, and conversation flowed. The food was incredible. It was nice sharing a meal with her, letting her know how it could be. Trusting him, he hoped.

Saint listened to Sienna tell him about her jewelry designs and how Megan had convinced her that together they could make a go of Twisted Metal. Her face lit up and that made him smile. The joy there, and that she shared it with him, was special. She asked about the speedway and his classes. He didn’t bring up how he included Danny in his new class, but skirted around the fact it was him.

“A new kid started with the class today. Or rather, I signed him up myself.” He smiled thinking about the glee on Danny’s face.

“There’s something about this kid that just…” Saint stopped to gather his thought. “He’s intuitive when it comes to motorcycles. It’s like he can see what’s going to happen before it happens. When I showed videos about how to handle the bikes on blacktop, when I stopped the video, asked them questions about what might happen next, he knew the answers. The kids amazing. He reminds me a little of Chris when Chris and I first started riding.”

She frowned. “How old is the rider?”

“He’s thirteen.”

“Don’t you need a parent’s consent for him to be in your class?

He laughed and brushed off her concern. “I’ll get permission. Don’t worry. He comes around the track all the time.” Luckily she didn’t ask any more questions.

Throughout dinner, he made sure he touched her in some way, her hand, a brush of his leg against her, or the touch of his fingers on her cheek in a soft caress. He tried everything to make her more aware of him. He even insisted on feeding her dessert. With each bite of the crème brulee, she took, his cock grew harder.

“Mm,” she purred with the last spoonful of sweet custard. “Delicious.” She licked her lips and he almost groaned.

“Check!”

They walked out of the restaurant, he pulled her close and kissed her hard, their bodies aligning, his arousal pressing painfully for more room. He would take her to his bed tonight and show her that he loved her. And he knew it deep in his soul that he would never let her go. Sienna was his forever. Convincing her was the only obstacle.

“I’ll be right back.” He tapped her neck with a soft kiss and took off toward the truck.

Heading back toward the restaurant he saw Sienna stumble. A woman shoved her. Sienna hit the side of the building.

“What the hell!” Saint jumped out, and got to Sienna just as the woman’s fingers dug into Sienna’s skin.

“Mom, stop! You’re hurting me. Stop. Please, stop.” Sienna’s fear was a physical thing all but casting a net around the whole area, he could almost feel it. Saint grabbed the woman’s arm and pulled her hard. The movement strong but controlled. He didn’t want to hurt the haggard woman. The old woman turned her glare onto him, Saint saw the dark inset eyes, the anger, the addiction that pulled her flesh tight to her bones, the decay, the holes in her skin. It was all too familiar.

“You have to get it for me, Sienna. I need it!” The woman screeched pointing a finger at her. “You owe me this!”

Sienna took a step toward her mother, to do what he didn’t know. He did know he wouldn’t let this person hurt Sienna. He pulled her back into his body turning her becoming a protective shield.

“You get it for me,” the woman yelled as she backed away. Her eyes looked everywhere and nowhere, her body twitched making her clumsy. “I’ll be waiting. Just like I told you.”

“Mom.” Sienna struggled in his arms to go after the woman.

“Mom?” Saint’s heart broke as she tried to move from his arms still.

When the woman was out of sight, Sienna crumbled. He lifted her and set her in the passenger seat, got himself in and pulled off the curb. “Your mother?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice so small he barely heard her.

“How long has she been addicted to drugs?”

“Since I…since, I was a kid.” The tears came now. “But she never tried to hurt me before.” He took her hand and didn’t let go. Her voice droned on now. “I’d see her with prescription bottles.” She paused. “She hurt herself at work. I don’t know exactly how, but it was bad. She needed the pills she said.” Wiping her eyes, she continued. “I noticed the orange bottles more and more. That’s when I started to go to Megan’s more. She’d started to blame me for everything. Dad started to…he started to hit her more.” She sucked in a breath, and it wavered as she let it out. “When she started not to come home sometimes, he blamed me like she blamed me for all their problems.” Saint gripped her hand harder and thought he knew where this was going. “When he didn’t have an outlet with my mother that’s when he started in on me. And then she didn’t come home at all.”

“Jesus.”

“She left me with him. I haven’t seen her until tonight.”

Sienna looked up at him and looked around. They had reached Paulson’s a few minutes ago, and hadn’t noticed. He got out and once again helped her out of the truck and took her up to the loft. He moved her with ease, drew her down on the sofa and onto his lap. And let his head fall against her neck snuggling where he knew she liked it best.

“What, what are you doing?” she asked him.

“I’m taking care of you.”

“But why? Why would you want to be with me after seeing what I came from? She didn’t think I was worth anything, why should you?”

Saint twisted her around, so she faced him. He didn’t give her time to pull away. Her dress inched upward and he pulled her in flush to his growing arousal. He kissed behind her ear, stroked her hair, wrapped it around his fingers drawing her head back to get better access to the bare skin near her collarbone. He bit her gently and then replaced his teeth with his tongue, to ease the sting. She whimpered.

“Why?” He kissed her quick and hard. Her eyes opened when he pulled gently on her hair, and she stared at him. “Because,” he said. “I love you.”

“No.” she gasped. “No,” she said again. “I’m not worth it.”

“You so are,” he said and dove back in to show her just how much he meant what he said.

Hot Blacktop Ch. 8 – Twisted Metal

Mature Content. Sienna’s hands shook. She was tired, but she needed to finish this necklace. The silver metal fired orange as Sienna soldered the second medallion to the first. She hadn’t slept well the whole week, and her mind still stuck on Saint’s words as she left him at the Speedway.

Rotating her shoulders, she glanced at the jewelry that lies on a velvet pad, the fruition of a week’s worth of work and worry. The designs were good even if her creative drive came from the ride she’d taken with Saint. All she’d thought about the past week was him. The way he made her feel, the things he said to her, or did, the flowers and short notes that hadn’t stopped since the first. There was no possible way to forget that he wanted her. He didn’t need to continue the romantic barrage, but she secretly loved it. Sienna couldn’t ignore their chemistry any longer. Even now, thinking about him got her stirred up.

Sienna lay the tip of the soldering tool against the short lip where the stone would sit, and dabbed it with solder to hold another petal in place. With everything that had happened between her and Saint since they met, she was glad she could concentrate enough to adapt the designs that blazed through her mind after their ride. Their ‘stargazing’ not at all influencing her mad dash to draw. “Right!” She snorted.

Arriving home that night of the ride, images of new jewelry had been a saving grace. Trying to sleep had been useless, so she holed up in her design studio, to draw the barrage of images for a new jewelry line. The only reason she’d stopped was the sun had peaked over the hillside, washed the landscape with a warm fiery red, and her stomach growled.

She’d rubbed her eyes and stretched her back and stared at the flashes of color and metal on vellum she’d drawn. It was her best work. Sienna took a nap after she ate and jumped in to start sculpting each form at Twisted Metal, her and Meg’s jewelry store. And now it was the end of the week and Sienna was wrapping up the last piece in the series getting ready for the next phase.

Each piece in some way came from the shape and contours of materials on Saint’s bikes, not just the one they rode last weekend, but the many she’d glimpsed in his garage.

The bottom medallion she worked on was a solid piece of silver about .8mm thick, and the top circle was a play on positive and negative space using the wheels of the motorcycle as her example. In the center, a stone of black onyx would sit and rise above what she was calling petals for a more feminine touch, whereas the medallion she had designed for the men’s line was a bit chunkier and would be held by a leather cord, the onyx an inlay instead. It was delicate but strong, with the look and feel of motorcycle wheels.

After the last connection, Sienna stood and lifted her hands high over her head. She arched her back and then returned her arms to the front and then moved them down to clasp behind her back to stretch her shoulder blades.

Megs poked her head in the back her work studio location. “Hey baby-cakes, how goes it?”

“Just finishing up,” Sienna said scanning to see everything ready for finishing work.

Megs walked over. “Fantastic,” she nodded toward the work and crossed her arms. Sienna watched her head angle this way and that. “Damn girl, this is some of your best work!”

Sienna laughed. “Yeah,” is all she said.

“Sales were great today.”

“With the holidays coming on strong, I’m glad to hear it.” Sienna sat down to clean up some tools and got lost in her thoughts.

There was a tap on her shoulder. “Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere good, Megs.”

Sienna’s friend frowned, and her eyes narrowed. “Your dad was a shit!” Sienna laughed with little humor. Megan came around to Sienna’s back and wrapped her arms around Sienna’s shoulders to link them in front, and her cheek rested next to hers. Sienna sighed.

“I love you. You’re my best friend, Sienna.” Megan kissed her on the cheek and then stood up. “Speaking of happy, have you talked to Saint?”

Sienna put her elbows on the table and her head in her hands covering her face but then turned her head toward Megs. “No.” What Sienna wanted to say was that she’d called him and told him to stop sending all his beautiful presents, the flowers, and poems and that it was never going to happen between them. But somewhere in the middle of the week, she’d decided that she would jump into the deep end of her bottomless pool of lust—she’d convinced herself that’s all it was–and, at least, enjoy the sex. But who was she kidding. She was already emotionally involved. She was always emotionally involved. The damn man was under her skin. “I’m going to call him tonight.”

“Oh, really,” Megs dragged out.

Sienna stood up and gathered her purse and jacket, nodded once toward her friend as if she were still trying to convince herself. She reached to turn off the light, but Megs stepped in front of her. “Megs, it’s been a long day and my back is killing me.”

“Want to go to dinner, have a drink?”

Sienna took a deep breath and thought about her comfy bed and the sleep she needed. But she hadn’t spent a lot of time with Megs that week and said instead, “I could eat.”

“Good. Mexican?”

“Sure.”

When they headed out, she came up short. Saint stood in the showroom. She blinked not sure if he was real when her eyes drifted to the other person that stood next to him, what was his name again. Hot Guy No. 2? She could barely remember the night at the club.

She blinked again and turned when Saint strode toward her.

“Hey sweetheart,” he said and leaned over, drawing his lips softly over hers.

“What are you doing here?”

Saint glanced at Megan, she shrugged and walked toward Hot Guy No. 2. The man she recognized but didn’t know looked at Megs like she was a spoonful of the most decadent chocolate mousse he would soon devour. The heat in his eyes, so similar to the way Saint looked at her, was so strong, it made her tingle in all the right places. “Wow!”

Saint chuckled at her barely whispered comment and wrapped an arm around her to pull her close.

“If I weren’t so confident about the way I do it for you, I’d be a little jealous of the way you looked at my friend over there.”

He did that thing again where he kissed her neck, and she shivered. Yeah, Sienna had to concede that Saint really did do it for her.

“You ready to eat, baby?”

“You want to introduce me to Hot Guy No. 2?”

“What did you call him?” he asked with a laugh. But before she could repeat herself he said, “Never mind.” He guided her toward his friend. “Sienna this is Christof Yeager, MOTO Racer Extraordinaire,” he said and bowed with greatt plumage.

Megan giggled.

“Thanks for the intro, my friend. But your bow could be a little deeper,” Christof said with what sounded like a German accent laced with a lot of humor. The man looked back at her with a crooked smile that turned to concern and drawn down eyes glowing a surreal emerald, almost hypnotizing in their beauty. “It’s good to see you’re feeling better, Sienna.”

“Huh?” she stammered. Then Christof smiled, and a lone dimple creased his cheek. Damn he was good looking, she thought and blinked. “That night was awful.” Saint squeezed her closer. She elbowed him so he would give her some space. Christof’s smile grew even bigger as she watched him try and stifle a laugh.

“Ready to go?” Megs asked. Megan had scooted away and was just now coming back toward them with her purse in hand and stood next to Christof. Not too close, she noticed.

Just then Saint’s stomach let out quite a rumble. She looked at him as her eyebrows shot up. “I take it you’re ready to eat.”

“I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” His lip quirked at the corner. “My board track racer had all my attention today, I was supposed to be going over the Paulson Speedway financials, but I was too distracted thinking about a particular female to crunch numbers today. That would have been a total failure. So it was the café bike or nothing.” He kissed her on the nose and guided her toward the front of the shop. She heard Megan speak to Christof in clipped tones, not catching a bit of their conversation. She would have to corner her best friend for the details.

When they arrived at Over the Border, since it was an unusually warm night, they were able to snag seats on the front patio, and soon, each had a margarita with a lip of salt. “Mmm,” she groaned, then sighed.

“That good?” Saint asked.

“Yeah,” is all she said and went back to listening to Saint and Chris, which Saint called him for short, talk about motorcycles and the racing season. She didn’t understand a lot of what was said, but she enjoyed the way Saint’s voice got excited and the way his laugh rippled across her skin.

When their food came, they dug in and by the time she finished her last bite of quesadilla she was stuffed and ready to sleep. Just as she was about to tell Saint that she really needed to get home, she felt an odd tingle at the back of her neck and looked over her shoulder to see what it was that caught her attention, but when she looked around, there wasn’t anyone there.

“What is it?” Saint asked, his demeanor now totally alert.

“Nothing.”

“Your body says the opposite,” Saint returned. “You tightened up all over.”

She hadn’t noticed his arm around her. It felt natural so natural, unlike the times when Layton had shown similar affection.  “I don’t know.” She looked around. The shadows were deep, hiding anything and everything. “It felt like someone was watching me.” She looked up into his eyes and saw that the lines drawn down with worry. “Maybe it’s Danny.” His eyebrows shot up. Now Saint looked around. He squeezed her shoulder.

“He wouldn’t wander this far from home.”

“Who’s Danny,” Megs and Christof said over one another.

Saint explained how he’d met Danny. Concern lit both their faces.

“We’ve got to get him out of that home.” Saint froze next to her. When she turned toward him, he looked down at her. There was a pain in his eyes, and she thought of his sister. But how did the two relate? Christof looked angry. But why? What was wrong with helping the boy? “You said it was bad, Saint. Right? We can help him.”

“Sienna, there are a few things that you don’t know about Danny’s situation. He didn’t react well when you showed up at Paulson’s.” She was going to tell him they could figure out how to help, but then he put her off and said, “I’ll know how to help Danny.” He sighed. “If he doesn’t want help, though, I can’t force it on him.” Her heart hurt for the boy. Saint stroked her cheek, and it made her feel marginally better. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Christof and Saint argued over who would pay the bill. Christof won, Saint told her. She relaxed when Saint got her into his truck, the margaritas, and food making her sleepy. She’d left her car at the store, but Megs promised to pick her up in the morning. Though she was smiling, at the time, with a humorous light in her eyes Sienna was very suspicious.

Saint pulled into her driveway, and she turned toward him ready to say goodbye when he reached out and pulled her close. Or as close as the console would allow. His lips danced across hers so softly that she almost didn’t feel it, but she felt it in other places. Her breath caught in her throat as their eyes met in the almost dark. Stars glittered alongside the moon, and Saint’s eyes joined them in their nighttime folly.

Tonight was a turning point. She was going to push off into dark waters, pray they didn’t pull her under and beat her heart to a pulp. Leave her heart out of it, she kept telling herself. But she knew the truth. She wasn’t going into this focused only on lust. No. She liked him. The conversation was good at dinner. He had talked about teaching racing; his face lit up when he spoke of his students and how it felt when their race times decreased. Saint loved teaching. She could see it in his smiles and the pride behind his words.

“Invite me in, Sienna.” She was about to tell him, yes, but he took her words away as his mouth came down on hers. She opened for him giving him everything. She wasn’t sure who groaned first when he pulled away. “Invite me in,” Her breaths came hard and fast and all she could give was a nod. Before she knew it Saint was at her side of the truck, the door open and her in his arms.

“You don’t have to carry me!” He flashed a smile. She leaned back and looked up at the sky, resigned to his Neanderthal ways. She secretly loved it.

They reached the front door, and he set her down, she pulled out her keys and fumbled them as he came up behind her, dropped kisses and swipes of his tongue along her neck. So turned on she could barely get the key in the lock. They practically fell into the house. He lifted her before she took a nose dive and pulled her back to him. His hands at her hips glided up the sides of her torso under her coat and brushed along the outside of her breasts. She leaned back and let him take over.

Coats hit the floor, and Saint moved them toward the stairs. He didn’t stop touching her. Just before they would have reached her room, he grabbed her hips and spun her around his lips coming down on hers. It wasn’t soft. It was feverish and possessive. What had been building between them for the past few weeks exploded in a torrent of motion, fingers splayed, mouths nipped, kisses deep and wild. His tongue joined the foray, and she didn’t disappoint him, tangling hers with as much force as Saint’s. Her lips would bruise. She didn’t care. Sienna grabbed his shirt, forced him to slide across the wall. They bumped past the door jamb and stumbled through the archway, only to catch themselves when they hit the top of the bed.

Both wrestled for the advantage over the other, arms and legs tangled and laughter filled the room until their eyes met and the heat between them flashed and came to life again. Saint grabbed Sienna’s shirt and pulled it up over her head. He groaned because of what she wore. The sheer red shelf bra had been the only thing clean. It wasn’t her favorite because it made her skin a pasty white.

“Holy shit!” Saint licked his lips. Sienna just about had a spontaneous orgasm from the primal look he gave her.

“Saint?”

He didn’t answer. But he responded to her question, his eyes intent on hers until he closed in on a straining nipple. When his tongue darted out and skimmed across her covered taut flesh, once, twice, all she could do was groan his name. Sienna sank her hands into his hair and held on for dear life. His whole mouth covered her breast, and she arched into him. He sucked harder, and couldn’t help but grind her sex into his hard length through their layers of clothing.

She bit her bottom lip to hold in a scream. He continued to torment her other breast, and she said, “Clothes off, clothes off. I need to feel you.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not done playing yet.”

“Please,” she pleaded. Saint took to her other breast again, but when she arched against his mouth, straining to get closer, his hands went to her back, unhooked her bra and she was bare to him, as he drew it down her arms, well, at least, her top half. She was small, and her hands automatically went to cover her breasts, but he grabbed her hands, and she had no time to react, he pressed her hands above her head onto the mattress. Sienna started to shake from the inside out, the walls of her core pulsing to catch up with the blood that pumped so hard through her veins she thought she would pass out from pleasure.

Saint released his grip, but she wanted his mouth back on her breast and grabbed onto his head. He would have none of that. “Leave them, Sienna. I know what you need.”

“But…” He shook his head.

As he started to lick his way down her body, the starting line each breast again, she let him do what he wanted. She never had it so good, not with Layton, not with any of the other men she’d been with, which hadn’t been a lot. Her fingers clawed at the comforter, his tongue circling each nipple in turn but not consuming each again. She needed to hold onto something or she would lose herself. Was that her that mewed like a desperate animal. “Oh, God!”

Saint laughed and he didn’t stop. He came within an inch of her panty line…wait when did he take off her pants. “Ohhhh!” His tongue touched under the lace that lined her panties. “Saint, please! Do something, anything. I need…”

“I’ll get where you need me to go, but in a minute.”

“No!” Her hands came off the bed desperate to get him naked. How quickly she would do that she didn’t know, but he needed to have fewer clothes on. She reached for his zipper.

He flipped her onto her stomach, and Saint’s body covered hers immobilizing her, she let out a frustrated scream, but then he whispered in her ear.

“Baby. Sienna. I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna sleep for a week. Let me take care of you.”

Something in her seemed to answer his non-question and her body sank into the bed. He must have felt her relax because he took over her pleasure again. His lips kissed a line down her body starting at her neck and didn’t stop until he reached the divots at her lower back. His tongue circled, and his lips kissed, when he moved his fingers down and caressed the top of her butt and slowly drew down her panties that were just as sheer as her bra, his lips never stopped touching her. She was soaking wet, and Saint had no problem letting her know just how wet she was.

“Mmm,” he hummed along her skin. She was going to die. There was so much pleasure, she couldn’t fathom what came next, and he hadn’t even touched her pussy yet. And then he did. With his mouth. He grabbed onto her hips and pulled her up. “On your knees.” It was then she noticed that his voice trembled. He was affected as much as she. Sienna looked over her shoulder, and he came off the bed and fell to his knees on the floor pulling her back to him in the process, and she had a hard time staying up on her knees. But he took control again, their eyes met, and his mouth was right there, her core spasmed. “Ahhh!” He didn’t let up, the sucking, the laps of his tongue, her juices flowing into his mouth. She was going to die from orgasmic pleasure.

“That’s it baby, rock on my mouth.” Sienna didn’t stop. Saint proved he could rock her world with just his tongue, and she came undone. “Come, now!” He whispered, but she heard.

“Saint! Saint!” His name was a litany of thanks as Sienna’s orgasm spiraled up and coiled tighter and tighter until her body splintered apart. The brittle stability of her control exploded outward like the universe had made a new star. She fell to her stomach.

Her hot breath puffed on the comforter, her hair wet and tangled over her eyes. She body felt heavy and sated, and she couldn’t catch up when Saint grabbed her hips and helped her flip over onto her back again. She looked up at him as he towered over her at the end of the bed, his body shadowing hers as he looked down at her. His fingers grabbed the back of his shirt, and he pulled it over his head. Next off, his pants. Her heavy-lidded eyes tracked every muscle as they rippled, every hard line of flesh that her lips would kiss in mere seconds. There was so much to touch and taste that she didn’t know where to start. She went to sit up, but Sienna froze as he took down his boxers, his hard cock a pulsing beacon. He was thick and long and all hers. She wanted him in her mouth, but before she could scoot to the end of the bed and take hold of his hard length, Saint pushed her back down on the bed and crawled up her body and started all over again. When she had had another orgasm, even better than the first one, she thought she wouldn’t survive the night, but Saint made it clear she would make it through the night and into the morning. At some point, Saint had found a condom and rolled it on. He came down on her body but didn’t enter her right away. He took her lips again and managed to glide his sex across her parted labia, and she couldn’t help the groan that came with the easy glide, she was so sensitive she couldn’t help it.

He continued to rock back and forth, slicking himself up. “Sienna, look at me.” When had she closed her eyes? “Sienna, sweetheart?” When he said her name like that followed by the endearment her eyes fluttered open, and that’s when he entered her. She gasped as he filled her in one easy stroke and held himself fully in her. His groan, this time, matched her own and then he started to move. At first, it was a slow easy slide in and out, but soon it wasn’t about taking his time, it was about the pleasure that was consuming them both. She could see it on his face, his jaw in a tight snarl, his eyes burning for her. She knew what it was to feel that much because he had just taken her on the same ride and he was doing it again. When his hips started to slam into her and his face sank into her hair, and his mouth went to her neck, and his teeth opened to grip the spot he liked to kiss, he was more animal than man, letting his body take over, Sienna couldn’t get enough of it. She had never had a man take over her body, as all-consuming as Saint. It was glorious in its light.

And it was light. She was out of the dark. Saint had brought her out of the dark she’d been trapped in for too long. But as her mind spun she got lost in her fear. Did he really want her or was he using her for his pleasure? Saint must have felt the change in her because his mouth came off her and he lifted his head and looked down into her eyes. There was too much there, in his stare, and she tried to shut him out, but Saint held her chin in his fingers, the fierce gaze he set on her never leaving her, forcing her to match his stare. A tear spilled over onto her cheek, and he caught it with a finger and started to move again. It was slow, in and out, his focus never leaving her, with each heated press of his hips meeting hers she became lost to him. Soon, too soon, her orgasm was just out of reach again, the walls of her core dancing with each thrust from Saint. His length surged deep inside her over and over, the kinetic energy between them almost a wild thing now. Flesh against flesh, the grunts that came from him and Sienna, the slick skin under her fingers, the only thing that existed in her world was this man inside her.

“Are you ready to come for me again?”

She nodded, but her mind screamed that she needed to hold on longer, her head moved back and forth now. This might be the last time they would be together. People didn’t stay around to be a part of Sienna’s life. she wasn’t worth the time. Saint would leave.

“No Sienna,” he grunted on another push and a groan followed as her inner walls gripped him so hard that Sienna thought she would have lost it, but somehow she pulled it back, waiting for Saint, his voice somehow grounding her. “I want to hear you say it aloud. Say it,” he finished as he gritted his teeth.

“Yes, I’m ready to come,” the words a breathy entreaty that thickened the air in the room. “Make me come, Saint. Make me come.” When the words ended, Saint gripped her hips and lifted them to bring her closer. He slammed into her harder than she thought possible and that’s all it took. He held tight to her hips and ground down on her pussy making her clit flair, hot, cold, she didn’t know. She went off the edge of the precipice she had been hanging on and fell. Her backed arched and Saint held her tight, grinding against her taut nub when his cock started to pulse inside her, his roar, one of satisfaction and that of a conqueror.

They panted in time with one another when Saint came down on her rolling them both to their sides. He wrapped his arms around her, and she felt safe for the first time in her life. But could she trust the feelings he brought to her. Could she trust him? She shook her head.

“You okay?”

She burrowed into the pillow making it seem like that’s what she’d been doing in the first place. Sienna didn’t want to answer because she didn’t know if she was or would ever be alright again.

Saint pulled away and got up to take care of the condom. “Sienna, baby?” he asked once beside her again.

Still she didn’t speak.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He kissed her at the base of her neck where his teeth had gripped and controlled her. Silent tears ran hot down her cheeks and she shivered in fear of what came next?

 

Hot Blacktop Ch. 7 – Test Ride – Part II

Mature content

“Is he alright?” Sienna asked. The boy’s reaction made her heart hurt. She recognized the look in those eyes. She watched as Saint turned, kneeled and gently held the boy’s tiny biceps to stop him from shaking. Saint started to speak to the boy. She couldn’t hear what Saint said, but she saw the boy nod. His wide eyes snapped to hers. Like lightening they flashed back to Saint and the boy surprised them both.

“No!” he yelled.

Sienna jumped as the word exploded from the boy and she reached out as if to stop him, but he ripped his body away from Saint’s hands and he ran off.

She took a step forward as Saint’s gaze followed the boy running away. Saint stood up, turned to face her and she drew up short. Anger poured off him in waves. Was he mad at her?

“What’s wrong?” She took another step back.

He didn’t answer for long seconds and looked out into the dark where they could no longer see the small figure. “I don’t know,” he finally responded and turned back toward her. She sensed some deeper tension in Saint, the tautness of his body, the way his brow creased and the tightness at his mouth drew his jaw together. But in a blink, his stress faded away and he smiled.

Sienna’s breath eased out. He wasn’t mad at her. But what would it matter? She was here to call off the date. He would be mad soon enough.

Saint’s worry for the boy, Sienna could see, lay heavily on his shoulder’s still. “The boy. His name’s Danny.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I’ve watched him slink around, going on about two weeks now. He’s shown up almost every day. This was the first time he came into the garage.” Saint shook his head and looked toward the ground with a frown on his face, then turned his gaze on hers. “Most days he sits in the bleachers.” He pointed out toward the grandstand. Saint ran his fingers through his hair, gripped hard with agitation and expelled a heavy breath.

Her stomach swirled with dismay. Danny had looked beat down, scared out of his mind. His stark and lost, pale blue eyes, for one second, when they’d latched onto hers, the light from the garage had made them shine…in fear, of her? But why?

“Where’s he going? Should we go after him?”

“Home,” he growled the word. “I wish I could go after him. After he’d come around a couple days I was curious. I tracked him back home.” He blew out a breath and he looked right into her eyes. “It’s not a good place to be, Sienna.”

The ominous words spilled Sienna into a dark corner of her past, a time before she’d met Megs.

The dilapidated house she’d considered a home with faded, chipped paint, was a placeholder. A cold, empty box of a room with a mattress that had belonged to someone else, so worn from age she rolled into the middle when she slept.  It had been more cage then home. Stale odors of booze and cigarettes were like a second skin; ones she could never peel away.

Sienna rubbed her arms cold from the memory.

The good days were the ones her Dad was passed out on the couch and her Mom had holed up in her room. Though the results of beforehand was her mother curled up on her bed, her body used up, bruised and scarred, the visible proof of abuse mapped on her thin skin.

The day Sienna met Megs was the first time Sienna dared to sneak out. It was the reason she’d raced out of Hampshire’s Stop and Shop. She’d been thinking about where to hide the food so her dad couldn’t find it. She couldn’t be caught or his wrath would have been evident in the days that followed.

“You should have never been born, Sienna!”, “You’re useless, girl.”, “Get me a damn beer, that’s the only thing you’re good for.”, “I could never love someone like you! You’re pathetic, whining and crying all the time.” That was only after he’d kick her for not getting his beer fast enough.

She could hear her mother’s words, “You’re the one who drove your father to drink. For being born. For coming between him and me this is the life we get. The life we deserve. If I’d just gotten rid of you like he told me to, he’d still want me.” She was the reason her father started using his fists on her mother, the reason her mother finally left Sienna with him. She was never good enough.

Sienna was cold to the bone, though she wore an extra layer under her coat. She stared in the direction Danny disappeared. It was so much worse for Sienna, when her mother took off. Even though she said so many hateful things, Sienna was her daughter. She loved her some, right? After all these years the woman still called her occasionally. Sienna’s memories snagged her again. The last time she saw the woman it was in the parking lot of her high school. She waited in her car, but when Sienna approached, her mother took off. “Come back, Mom,” she screamed as her mother’s car got farther and farther away.

Sienna swayed on her feet, the past blurring with the present, caught by the pain that it caused in her chest. She grabbed onto the only thing in front of her, but Saint must not have noticed her dismay. He kissed her. When she was able to come up for air, she looked up into his face and a cocky smirk made his mouth twitch. She blinked, still dazed and then remembered why she’d come.

Sienna pushed away, or she tried, but Saint’s grip tightened. Crap!

“Saint? She tried to push him away, but he held on tighter. “Saint!” She was able to get him to understand she needed space, but it wasn’t a whole hell of a lot that he gave her. “We can’t do this,” she said in aggravation and crossed her arms, which was difficult because Saint still had his arms cinched tightly around her.

He frowned, then his eyes narrowed. “Stubborn woman.” Saint took her hand, ignored her physical protests and dragged her toward the garage that still blared with light, toward the only bay left open. Okay, so he didn’t exactly drag her. She went willingly, almost, even knowing she shouldn’t.

When she dug her heals in the ground, he just picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. “Put me down, you…you Neanderthal.”

“No.” His voice gave no quarter.

Sienna’s mind was a jumbled mess when he became all alpha male. Maybe if she took the stupid ride, he would leave her alone. On one hand she loved it, the way he carried her, cared for her, like she was precious in some way. Was she? On the other hand, she wanted to kick his ass for being so bossy.  Although, in every encounter they’d had so far, he never let her feel like she was less. She sighed, thinking still. He had sent her all those flowers. How he found out Gerber’s were her favorites…it must have been Megs. Megan would just have to stop spilling all Sienna’s secrets. She wanted to be left alone, to wallow in her self-pity. But the notes had been sweet. So, he wasn’t very good with words. She rolled her eyes, but of course Saint couldn’t see it. By the end of the week the notes had made her blush, telling her that he wanted to kiss every inch of her skin, taste her sweet creamy breasts. She was getting hot just thinking of it.

Sienna hit him on the butt. It was all his fault she wanted him so bad, her mind cluttered with sexy images, especially the ones where all of Saints clothes miraculously disappeared. “Mmm.”

“What was that?” he asked and squeezed her derriere.

“Nothing,” she squeaked.

Inside the garage, Saint slid her down, achingly slow. Shit! Her breasts tingled against his hard chest, his grip on her ass made her want to grind her body against his. Her wantonness doubled, so hard to ignore. She stifled a groan. Damn him if her desire to be under him on a soft bed didn’t rear its frustrated head…again. Memory of the orgasm he’d given her in her kitchen made a return performance.

She was so caught up, her breath turned harsh and her blood galloped, she hadn’t realized Saint had set her down and tried to hand her a helmet, and kissed her exposed neck. She melted a little more inside, the zing of temptation he sparked shot straight to all the hot desperate places she wanted him to touch. She was more disgusted with her bodies uncontrollable overtures for the man, she wanted to scream, for wholly different reasons.

“Saint, I’m not doing this.”

“Not taking no for an answer. You’ll love it.”

“No, I won’t!”

Saint smiled, the jerk, and got on a sleek black roadster of some sort and started it up. The rumble of sound made her jump. Sienna glared at him. Arms crossed, she looked out toward her car, tempted to leave. Before she could move he pulled her toward the bike and patted her left leg and handed her a pretty black helmet that was embellished with swirls, feathers and flowers. She stared at it. He tapped the helmet this time.

Reluctant but determined to end things when they got back, she put the helmet on and got on the bike. Sienna wobbled and gripped Saint’s shoulders when he righted the bike and kicked the stand back.

Her scream projected past the visor when he revved the throttle at the same time he yelled, “Hang on tight!” and took off straight out of the garage. Her arms locked around Saint’s waist. Varieties of creative curse words flew from her mouth as he shifted and the bike leapt forward again. Saint just laughed. With it she felt every release and contraction of his muscular stomach. It wasn’t fair.

Each curve he maneuvered became a dance with physics. The vibration of the rawhide seat was a constant pulse against her girly parts. The farther they rode, the more aroused she became.

It took too long for her to relax into his back and enjoy the ride. She wanted to forget she shouldn’t be here, forget Layton’s indiscretions which reminded her that she shouldn’t risk her heart again. But she eventually did. She couldn’t help but think a man like Saint could come to love her? Right? Maybe? No, her mind screamed. She quickly built a wall around the thought. Nobody could love her, not where it counted. Not enough to stick around. It was a proven fact that everyone left her. Well, except for Megs. Her friend would never abandon her.

When her mind went back to that notion, the image of Danny sprang to mind. He was a mirror of herself after her mother left. The loss of that small amount of protection was devastating. Something needed to be done to help the boy. Could she intervene?

She felt a tap on her leg and realized they were coming to a stop.

She got off the bike not paying attention and gasped when she looked up. It was spectacular. “What is this place?”

Saint didn’t say a word, grabbed her hand, and once again, pulled her where he wanted her to go. She really needed him to stop doing that.

“Saint!” She yanked her hand from his. “Would you please stop dragging me every which way.” She huffed and crossed her arms before she realized she’d even done it. She began to stomp her foot but stilled just in time. Sienna dropped her hands and smoothed out non-existent wrinkles on her jacket to cover up the petulance. All Saint did in response was kiss the tip of her nose again. She almost snarled at him but also nearly smiled as he wrapped his arm around her. “Frustrating man,” she mumbled.

“Sit with me.” He pointed to a bench that shown the view. It was too beautiful not to enjoy so she didn’t yell or put up a fight. The only problem, she didn’t wind up on the bench. Oh, no! Saint pulled her down onto his lap. She struggled, but her intentions to get up were weak. His heat felt too damn good in the chill that settled over their evening. Of course he had to engage her girly parts again. He pulled her close, his fingers, drawing lazy circles on her shoulder, which happened to be attached to the hand that smoothly moved under the collar of her jacket and shirt to find bare skin. She decided to focus on the view. Well, as much as she could.

They sat for a while the quiet lulling her to relax, but then Saint spoke. “My sister and I used to come here after my parents died. When things weren’t going right or we needed to clear our heads we’d come up here, stare out over the pine trees and just breathe to clear out all the other stuff in our heads.” She could feel him shrug his shoulders. “She’d gather pinecones and stack them up in a pyramid. I don’t know why she did it, but she would always be so focused I’d scare the crap out of her every time I told her it was time to leave.” He chuckled.

“Do you see your sister often?”

“No,” he said and rubbed his face with the hand that wasn’t occupied. “Becky was 18 when she overdosed.”

“I’m so sorry, Saint.” He squeezed her tight and then released her only a little, his hold still comfortably tight, his breath shaky as he let it out.

They sat with only the silence and stars for a long time. She thought of her mother. Sienna knew quite a bit about addiction. She shivered and put thoughts of her past out of her mind and concentrated on the sky.

The stars were a spectacle, millions of them trying to outshine the other. Sienna had always thought stars held a profound truth in their light. Some things outlasted even time. A human saw the light of a star that had perhaps died out eons ago, but its brilliance still lingered, remembered by the geeky astrologer. Remembered. Would someone remember her when her light stopped shining?

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?”

Sienna sighed when he called her sweetheart. Layton never called her anything other than Sienna. “The stars,” she said and looked into his eyes. “They’re beautiful aren’t they?”

Without a word he leaned into her. “Saint?” she whispered. Slow as molasses he took her lips and she never once thought to back away. It was like she was a positive and he was a negative force that couldn’t help but come together, and God it was good. He sipped, teased, and licked at her mouth.  Her need for him only escalated. She wanted to push him away but every time his mouth touched hers another link formed between them, sunk deeper into her skin, grabbed hold, burrowed into that first layer of her shields that he’d started to crack after their first encounter just a few weeks ago.

Sienna closed her eyes when the reach of his stare, while he kissed her, tried to cast more of his web. She didn’t want to deny her body anymore but she would deny her heart if she could help it. With each swipe of his tongue she opened a little more for him until her lips took his. Her tongue forged its way into the depths of his mouth matching desire for desire. When his hand that caressed her collarbone drew her around to face him fully, she turned willingly.

Hands came out of her shirt and wrapped around her back, drawing her closer. His kiss deepened. The wild scent of him intoxicated her. She moved one leg over his lap, kneeled and sat on his lap crowding him, chest to chest. The zipper of her jeans aligned with his arousal.

“Oh!” she moaned, startled by the instant zing that made her body weep for him. Could this get any better, she asked herself. Oh yes it could. His lips answered her internal plea. They brushed across her chin, skimmed the sensitive spot just behind her ear. He suckled and licked until she moaned aloud. She shivered as he continued down a path straight to the line between her breasts as her bra hugged the swollen mounds. She tried to direct him back to her mouth, but he would have none of that. He grabbed her hips to still her but it caused her sex to jolt.

“Ohh!” They both moaned.

Heat flared at the touch and she rocked with longer strokes. The fevered motion hit her clit, back and forth, back and forth. It would only be more perfect if he had been inside her. He moaned her name and his tongue delved between her aching breasts.

“Please!” She cried, not knowing why she was saying it. “Need more,” she begged. Anything to make the ache between her legs ease. Her will to stay away from him was forgotten. All she wanted was him.

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

“I…I don’t know.” She continued to rub her clit against him and he dove back in with his mouth, his tongue, his hands, everything. Her movements quickened, the beat of her heart seemed to find his as their chest came together and he rocked with her, and suddenly, she couldn’t hold back the scream that joined the climax. She exploded with sinful pleasure. “Oh, God!”

“That’s it Sienna, let go. I’ve got you.”

It was too much. A sob broke from deep inside Sienna with his words. His arms wrapped tighter around her. “Why are you doing this to me. This can’t happen. We can’t happen.” With more strength than she thought she had she pushed away from him and stood up and almost lost her balance. She wobbled but then gained her feet. “Take me back.”

He stared at her for a long moment, like he was seeing the inside of her soul. She wanted to run and hide. Then, with very precise and pointed movements, he ran a finger over his lips, catching the shiny wetness that she had left behind and sucked the finger inside his mouth, tasting her. She almost whimpered but held herself in check. Just barely. He stood and she took a sudden step back, would have fallen, but again, Saint caught her easily.

He didn’t do anything more, just held her with his eyes, and she froze like a frightened child. Her breathing wasn’t easy after the tumultuous ride she’d just taken.

“Take me back.” She bit her lip and pushed him away. He let her go, but it was a slow thing. She wrapped her arms around her middle like it would help hold herself together while her insides sizzled for his heat again. She wouldn’t tell him to take her home instead, make love to her until she only felt him, thought of him, and nothing else. “Please?” She wasn’t past begging either, even if her body agreed that she should go home with him. She knew it would be good, but she had more control than this. Right? Whatever happened between them, she would be left alone in the end. She had to let him go.

He nodded once and she sighed in relief. But that was short lived when he grabbed her and brought them together. He squeezed her close, aligned them from head to toe, their fit perfect. Then his head dipped down fast and his lips took hers hard, like he was staking a claim, marking her in some way. The surprise unbalanced her, especially when he let her go just as suddenly and handed her a helmet. She stared down at it. Once again he protected her, but she didn’t hit him this time. Sienna let him do what he wanted. He got her on the bike and they headed back to the city. She planned to go home, put on her most comfortable pajamas and wallow in a pint of Cherry Garcia, wanting Saint, something she knew would never be hers.

When they arrived, Saint pulled into the garage and she got off the bike, handed him the helmet and tried to smooth out her hair. He took the helmet and put it in a cabinet off to one side. Saint turned around and zeroed in on her with his gaze, but said nothing.

“Well, thanks for the ride.”

Still nothing. She lifted her hand and turned at the same time she waved, when he finally spoke.

“This is good between us Sienna. You know it,” His voice was calm and direct but it did the opposite to her. Her heart started to tremble inside. This time she stayed silent with her back to him frozen to the spot, afraid of what she’d see in his eyes if she turned around. He continued, “That helmet’s yours Sienna.” She shook her head, and swallowed hard. “I’m not giving up on what we’ve started.”

Hot Blacktop Ch. 6 – Test Ride – Part I

One week turned into two. Sienna had tried Saint’s patience, but he’d worn her down, with phone calls and small hand written notes that he’d had delivered with a single Gerber daisy every other day. The instant connection they’d made was something Saint couldn’t ignore. He didn’t want to seem too eager though, or…stalkerish. He laughed behind the welder’s mask. Saint had been just about to head over to Twisted Metal and bodily remove her from her store to follow through on his promise and take her for a ride on his bike. He shook his head as he brought the blowtorch down on the tank he’d decided to reshape.

Saint finished the final weld and flipped the mask back and smiled. He was in the middle of a rebuild/redesign of a 1982 Yamaha XS650 Board Track Racer. It was coming along and he couldn’t wait to put it through its paces once it was completed. It was more for the joy of taking something old and making it new more than anything, but he’d had a mind to get his hands on one and redesign it to his own style. Not part of the Paulson business, he’d done a few custom builds for friends. He enjoyed it, but Saint wasn’t going to make it a habit. Teaching people to race to the best of their ability was the primary business model at Paulson Raceway and it started with the kids.

He looked at the clock on the wall. Even though he took meticulous to the next level when it came to the tools in his shop, he’d done a lot that day and lost track of time. Sienna would be here soon. The tools needed to be cleaned and put away.

Saint saw a flash of faded blue near the garage entrance. Danny was back. He looked to be about eight, but he could be wrong. His mind told him the boy wouldn’t be that young here on his own. The only reason he knew the kids name was the other boys he taught to race knew him from school. They didn’t know how old he was, he never spoke up much, and was in the special education classes. He was confused by that though, because Danny was observant, but always hung back, watching the Paulson mechanics, or in the grandstand leaned over the rail on tip toes to catch every word Saint spoke as he taught class at the starting line.

Where the hell were his parents? Saint’s lips pinched as he worried about Danny’s home life.

The kid was too skinny. He’d seen enough bruises on the boy to know that someone had clocked him a time…or three. Saint squeezed the torch until his knuckles turned white, the anger hot as the flame it produced. He slowly got up. His knee cracked and he grunted. Startled by his movement, Danny stepped back. Saint tried to relax, tools banged and metal clanked and Saint noticed the boy would jerk every time the tools hit something. As not to frighten Danny he carefully put things away letting him settle. “Hey kid, you have somewhere you’re supposed to be?”

The boy lifted his chin and crossed his arms in front of his chest then put them down by his sides. “No. I got nowhere,” he snapped, but then quickly looked away, his fingers curled into fists again by his side. Saint noticed a slight tremor in those limbs. The intensity in Danny’s words belied his body language. Brows turned down, Saint stayed mute and his eyes never wavered from the mysterious boy. The kid looked back and away again. What was he so scared of? Was he hiding from someone? Saint put his worry off for now, but he’d definitely revisit it later. If he could help in any way, he would.

“Can you get me that clean rag over on the bench there.” Saint pointed.

Danny’s arms fell to his sides and he looked over to the bench and back to Saint like his request was some kind of trick. He finally moved, stiff and disjointed. Saint frowned. His concern spiked again. Saint observed the boy with a more acute glance. He hadn’t noticed Danny’s converse high-tops had worn holes in the toes, pretty pathetic against the flashy stained concrete of the garage floor. His shirt and jeans were worn through in some places, his hair was matted and dirty just like the rest of him. Did the kid even shower? He should be wearing a coat too; the weather was slowly cooling toward late fall. When Danny turned he winced and clenched his teeth.

“Thanks,” Saint said once the kid approached. “You okay Danny?”

“Fine.” He scuffed his Converse across a large red rust stain on the floor.

“What are you up to today, kid?”

“Nothin’,” Danny snapped, his hands jammed into his pockets as his eyes narrowed.

Saint didn’t think he’d heard the boy speak more than a few words since he started hanging around. This was the longest conversation they’d had to date.

Saint wiped the sweat off his brow and moved toward his bench. The sander went back on the designated shelf and he hooked the blowtorch up just above where the tank sat. He put the smaller tools in drawers and on hooks sticking out of the pegboard that covered almost an entire wall. “Well you’re doing something now,” he said over his shoulder. “How about I take you for a ride around the track. Sound good to you?”

When he looked back again Danny’s face blossomed with emotion. His eyes lit up and his mouth hung open for a moment. But in an instant his expression changed back again and he looked away.

“Really?” he whispered and then looked back up. Danny’s eyes met his, he tilted his head, curiosity and surprise obvious, but then his face scrunched up, his lip curled, and his shoulders fell, a gamut of emotion. “Whatever.” Danny shrugged.

Saint’s mind skipped between scenarios of why Danny was constantly unsettled. His anger flashed white hot again as he thought of possible worst case scenario. His vision blurred as he stared at the monotonous peg board. Saint hated abusers. But what made this particular boy cut a notch into Saint’s heart? He didn’t know. He turned back to respond.

Saint blew out a breath and tried to find calm. “Yeah kid. You up for it?”

Danny was quiet as his eyes locked on Saint. He searched for something.

Saint was about to say it was cool if he didn’t want to go.

“Yeah!” The break that cracked his voice caused heat to flush his cheeks. He looked back at the ground. “Yes sir.”

Saint’s head jerked back by the kid’s newfound manners. Emotionally this kid was all over the place. He would have to ferret out where all these little nuances came from if Danny kept coming around.

“Saint, will do.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Saint.”

Saint chuckled. “All right then, let’s go pick out a bike.”

“Wow!”

Saint walked over to the garage door on the opposite wall of the lift and bench. This door slid open instead of retracting overhead. He’d had it framed in solid teak with antique iron door pulls and hardware. He pulled it open with a soft hiss. The smoky opaque glass hid what lie on the other side. This garage had been the closest to the office and he’d turned it into one for his own projects. A private and off-limits space.

Danny gasped. “Oh boy!” The kid practically bounced off his feet. Saint tried not to smile. He didn’t want to embarrass Danny.

Saint dared to touch the kid’s shoulder to guide him to the street bike he wanted to ride. Danny shrugged him off but didn’t move away. Good, Saint thought, he’d seen him often enough now that Danny trusted him more. Not quite upon the bike he wanted to ride, Saint stopped in front of the Yamaha YZR M1.

“Holy shit!” Danny sputtered.

Saint looked down at the kid and let the swear word go. The smile he saw was something he didn’t think the kid had in him. He stayed silent and let Danny shuffle closer. The boy reached out but pulled back like fire had licked his fingers, afraid, Saint guessed. “Go ahead.” Danny reached out tentatively.

“This is like Valentino Rossi’s. Isn’t it?” His eyes were wide and his smile spread huge. “Are we going to ride this one?”

“No.”

“Why not?” He paused, thoughtful. “You’ll keep me safe,” Danny said making it a statement not a question.

Saint’s brows went down and his gut twisted, thinking about his sister. No, maybe it was why he felt more for Danny then he should. He shook it off. His sister wasn’t a part of this. Danny trusted him to some level, at least where riding was concerned.

“You’ll be safe.” He didn’t say more, just let Danny have his space to think over the words. “We’ll take the Yamaha YZR M1 replica. It has a rocker seat, so we’re good to go.” He walked through an adjacent door to the space that held a lot of riding supplies, grabbed a helmet that was lined up with several others, the wall looking more like an art installation than rows of riding gear. He called over his shoulder when he reached the wall, “What size hat you wear?” Danny didn’t answer, just stood in the doorway. Saint pulled down what he thought was the appropriate size. “Here. Try this on.” He had several kids’ helmets, for kids from ages seven and up, prepared for anything. Many of the families that were involved in racing—he taught many younger kids—brought friends. Of course, Saint never wanted to be without gear to keep the kids safe, so he always had backups. At the last second Saint grabbed a leather jacket. Danny would become cold only after a few seconds on the bike.

Once Danny had the helmet on, which made him look even smaller, and jacket, Saint hit the button and opened his private garage, grabbed his leather jacket and helmet. When he was as safe as the kid, he rolled out the M1.

Saint looked to Danny who fidgeted. “You ready?” Danny nodded with a jerk of his head.

“Alright, once I’m on, hold my shoulders, put your right foot on the pedal and swing your left leg over, sit, then wrap your arms around my waste and hold on tight to the second belt that I put on. Got it?”

Another nod.

“When we go into the turns, let the angle of the bike lead. When the bike leans, you lean.” He flicked Danny’s visor down. Saint got on and waited for Danny to get his nerve up. It didn’t take long. Danny was up and situated on the small seat within seconds.

“Hands around my waist, kid.”

“Okay,” he yelled through the helmet.

Saint revved the bike a couple times and took off light and easy, the kid’s helmet banging into Saint’s back a few times before he got used to the up-shifts.

He took his time maneuvering to the main track. Right before he opened it up he yelled “Here we go!” Danny’s grip was like a vice around Saint’s waste, his little fingers hooked into the second belt. Saint smiled. He took it up a notch and heard Danny’s whoop of joy, the one riders get that comes from cranking up the throttle, the heart pounding acceleration a rider can’t live without. Saint wouldn’t get anywhere near his top speed with Danny on the back of the bike, but he pushed it for the kid.

Saint only had time for a few laps around the track before Sienna would arrive, and sure enough as he rounded the final turn after the fourth lap he saw her head lights maneuver into the lot near his office. He came to a stop outside the garage.

Even before his helmet came off, Danny’s words came out a mile a minute. “That was awesome! Those turns were crazy. Can we go again? Can we go faster?”

Saint would have answered, but was distracted when Sienna came around the corner to greet him.

“Hi,” she said. Her eyes snapped down to Danny. In the next instant Danny jumps off the bike, but he’s behind Saint when Sienna appears. Danny clung to his back, his little hands gripping his leather jacket tight, his forehead angled into Saint’s spine.

The kid trembled. Saint could feel it. What the hell!

Hot Blacktop – Ch. 3 – Saint

Stuart “Saint” Paulson looked down at Sienna, his brow furrowed, shoulders tense, his own headache inviting itself in.

“Stay.”

“I can’t do that,” he replied after a long pause. She didn’t respond. She’d fallen asleep. He sighed, went back to the bed, sat down and looked at the woman who had pulled at something deep inside that he’d forgotten. How to feel. Saint didn’t deserve to feel, not after what’d happened to his sister, Becky. Saint didn’t understand why he agreed to take Sienna home in the first place, let alone make sure he tucked her into bed. He couldn’t take care of his baby sister when she’d needed him the most, so why would he be able to take care of Sienna?

Saint’s head dropped down, chin to his chest, and his self-hatred sliced deep with each breathe. He gazed at Sienna, swept the hair out of her face, and skimmed his finger down to her chin, he couldn’t stop and indulged in the feel of her, her hair, her skin. She wasn’t what he would call a stunner. Sienna was…unique. Right now, her skin was pale and drawn because of the headache. Once she was better, he bet it would be flawless and pink as pale porcelain. Her jaw angled sharply down from high cheekbones, almost to a diamond shape at her chin. What softened her face was the subtle slope of her nose, and her big eyes lined with thick lashes that seemed to go on forever. He noticed she was tall when he held her on the dance floor, maybe six foot two instead of his six foot four. Sienna had fit him snug and in all the right places. She was muscular too, but in his arms, she felt soft and pliable. The way her firm breasts pressed into the planes of his chest as he helped her from his truck and then carried her into the house was like a shot of adrenaline. Saint wanted to take full advantage of all her curves. He jerked his hand away and balled it into a fist.

Saint got up, adjusted himself and left the room. Giggles caught his attention at the end of the hall. He took the stairs faster. At the front door, ready to leave, he stopped and looked up.

“Dammit!” Saint turned around and went to the couch that looked uncomfortably short. His ass met the cushion and his hands went to his leather boots, out of habit, he unlaced the right one first and then the left, yanked them off, and tucked the laces in at the top and set them side by side next to a round coffee table with a glass top. He saw that Sienna was definitely a Pilates fan by the large pile of magazines with the title, whatever that was, along with a taste for southern cooking. He ran his fingers through his hair and kicked back on the couch to stare at the ceiling. He extended his legs, his feet settled on an armrest, and he leaned back onto a flower-covered pillow that felt more like burlap than Goose Down.

As he stares into the dark, Saint tried to convince both sides of his brain to refrain from stupidity. But one side conjured Sienna naked in positions that would make Kama Sutra experts blush. The other side said to get the hell away from her before Saint turned to sinner. Few knew that side of him. Close friends knew his anger simmered just below the surface and he was very controlled in all things. Saint didn’t need to get involved with anyone. The sinner didn’t deserve a good girl like Sienna. He was selfish and angry. She didn’t deserve his darkness, not after the little bit he’d heard about the dick she’d been dating. But that was all he had to give.

Saint sat up and started to reach for his boots but changed his mind and lay back down. Anger started to rise, his guilt locked in tandem with it, as it pulsed in his veins. More laughter floated down the stairs. He crossed his arms and glared up at the noise Christoph caused Megan to make.

His jaw clenched in time with his fists as he tried to breathe through the build-up of tension. Just looking into Sienna’s pain filled eyes brought the guilt and regret to the surface, so similar to the final look on his sister’s face when he’d slammed the door. He didn’t need a reminder of what he buried a long time ago.

He looked at his watch. It was only one-thirty. His mind raced around his day, and he tried to forget about Sienna, not to look too closely at his sudden need to know she was okay. He told himself he would sleep and then make sure she had everything she needed in the morning. Then he would get to the shop so he could work on the bike he’d started to build, that’s all he needed. It was a good decision. He rubbed his face hard, and dug his fingers in as he shifted his bum knee on the couch.

Earlier that morning he’d hosted a slew of manufacturing reps at the track, Paulson Raceway. Several came out to scout talent that he’d been training for this year’s AMA Moto1 and Moto2 Series. The first race was only three weeks away and he had to trim his stable to four racers and two reserves. He yawned. A lot of his kids were going to be disappointed. He yawned again.  Sleep finally tugged him under only to suck him into a nightmare.

“I need some money,” his sister Becky said when he opened his door. Her rancid breath came in heavy gusts. She looked behind her and wobbled reaching out to grab onto something. He stepped back on his crutches so she wouldn’t touch him.

Her body listed the other way as her hand pushed off from the doorframe and he still didn’t help. She continued to sway back and forth.

“I need money.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His knuckles mottled white with the amount of pressure he exerted on the handles of the damned crutches. He wanted to pummel his sister where she stood for what she’d done. “You’re not getting anything from me. Not anymore.”

She started to itch at her arms, her nails dug in where he could see track marks. “Please, Saint. I need…”

“Don’t fucking call me that!” Flames practically fired from his mouth with the amount of anger shooting off him. “You lost that right when you took my one chance away from me. I tried to help you. I would have done anything for you. But you decided your next fix was more important than me.” He was breathing like a bull ready to stampede. “You only get one chance. One. To make it in this life, Sister. That’s it! That’s all anyone gets. You took away mine!” He slams the door in her face.

Saint’s eyes sprang open and he gasped for air.

He sat up and wiped the sweat from his brow. His hands shook. He closed his eyes but could not get that last image of Becky out of his head. She died that night, and he could have prevented it. After a few minutes, he could breathe again, but he was afraid to try to go back to sleep. Yeah, in a couple hours, he told himself, he would make sure Sienna was okay. Then he would get out of her life.

Saint was about to close his eyes but the sound of a car engine alerted him to trouble. It was too early. He reached for his boots.