Saint kisses me wildly as if the world is burning around us and I’m the only desire he craves, because I know he’s mine and God does it feel so good. Our kiss is hot. Breathtaking. Intimate. Everything I’ve ever imagined and more. We’re kissing with so much force it’s as if my air is running out and he’s my only supply.
I love the dominance that comes with kissing Saint so seductively. Cupping my face tighter, his tongue runs over the center of my lips and I gladly part them, our dancing tongues colliding, hungry for a taste of sin. Saint tastes like peppermint with a hint of smoky tobacco. I love it so much. I love it.
The intensity of our kiss turns even more passionate as Saint’s left-hand cups the nape of my neck to kiss me even deeper, with possession. Ohmygod. Yes. My lips are tingling in desire and the pitter-patter of my heart beats ferociously. This doesn’t only feel like the first kiss in my life, this feels like the first real breath I’ve ever taken.
It consumes me whole as I kiss Saint harder. Deeper. With everything I have and follow the rhythm and movements with those of his.
I don’t care we’re at the damn beach…
I don’t care he’s older and is forbidden to me…
I don’t want this moment to end.
Our bodies couldn’t be any more pressed together as I straddle his lap. My sex throbs faster through my bikini thong. They’re drenched in arousal, and I’m convinced he can feel it too. His hard cock pulses under his swim trunks as my hips impulsively grind against him, getting lost in the moment and aching for a release.
Wow, this feels amazing.
We both moan mid-kiss at the exact same moment. When we pull back, my chest continues to flutter at the sight of the sweet desire in his bright blue eyes. Saint grins sexily and my heart returns to beating like crazy. In fact, it never stopped. I love I can feel his heartbeat against mine, and it’s beating just the same.
Saint doesn’t regret it.
I grin back, a soft giggle escaping through our intimate, extended stare. We’re both panting for our next breaths. Panting into heaven. I run my tongue over my lower lip, the heat of my pussy throbbing to the beats of my heart.
“I never knew a kiss could be that beautiful and wow.”
Saint rests his forehead against mine, our lips brushing as he whispers, “Did I take your breath away, wildflower?”
“Completely.”
“Good, because you take my breath away every single day too.”
Aww.
I can’t stop smiling. Can’t stop believing he’s right here with me.
“And you told me you weren’t a romantic.” I smirk.
Saint chuckles and I feel the vibrations in my chest. “I’m not a romantic.”
“Liar,” I murmur, inches from his lips. “You’re a romantic for sure. You’ve just been hiding it away for so long in fear of letting the world truly see the type of man you were born to be. So, you’ve caged your heart in an endless tunnel of darkness. You’ve thrown away the key. You think all falling in love again will do is unlock it and leave you bleeding out cold. It’s why you don’t let people in. Why you don’t allow others to see the beauty inside. But I see it…” My gaze flickers between his eyes. “I see it, Saint.”
I cup his jaw, loving the sensation of my fingertips caressing his spiky, dark stubble. “I see who you truly are underneath. A fiercely beautiful Italian romantic. I want you to be my fiercely beautiful Italian romantic.”
“Non posso resisterti,” Saint whispers, and I love that he’s speaking his mother tongue. “I can’t resist you, wildflower.”
“Then don’t.”
Saint takes one good look at me, the warmth in his gaze so insatiable, and then with the backdrop of the ocean waves crashing to the shore, he presses his lips on mine again. I melt. This kiss is slower, more tender than the last, but addictively intimate just the same. It’s beyond anything I’ve ever fantasied. It’s sensual and hot, yet at the same time angsty, emotional, and erotic.
This is what it feels like to be kissed by Saint Lisconti.
This is what it feels like to be destroyed by him.
Saint’s strong arms snake around my waist, drawing me even closer to him, and I wrap my legs around his waist. Tight. I feel so secure with him. So safe. So seen. His warmth ignites this fire inside me, burning my every flaw. It’s a crazy thing—how Saint becomes both my fuel and the only thing that can douse me.
I inhale a breath of air, smiling through the kiss because his alluring musky sandalwood cologne mixed with the ocean breeze are now my only air.
I could do this forever.
Not just for an entire summer.
Forever.
Saint threads his fingers through mine and our hands blindly intertwine on the warm sand. It’s such an intimate moment with a different kind of affection. So pure and holy. I love how our fingers lace together perfectly as if our hands were created for the sole purpose of staying like this forever.
Our kiss slows and speeds up in accordance with our synced heartbeats. We can’t get enough of each other, and I can’t help but want Saint even more in other ways when I let out a chorus of throaty moans and he groans against my lips. The sexy sound runs straight through my body and to where I need him the most.
Every single part of me bursts into happy sparks. It’s as if I’m spinning in a field of sunflowers. Instead, I’m spinning in a world of Saint Lisconti. One I never want to escape. Ever.
“Sei incredibile,” Saint pants when we pull away. A slow, sexy smile rises on his lips, his dimples deepening as the sunshine continues to kiss our skin. “You’re incredible, Paisley.”
Before I can say anything, I’m squealing as Saint scoops me up into his strong arms, bridal style, and stands up. Laughter bubbles out of me as he starts running down the sand toward the clear water.
I wrap my arms around his neck to stabilize myself and notice a few people whose eyes are on us. “I think you better put me down. All these people are watching us.”
“Let them watch and correction, they’re watching you, beautiful. The little red bikini is enough to drive any man insane.”
My lips meet his ear. “Well, you’re lucky you’re the only man who can get close to it.”
“Mmhmm.” Saint’s smolder that follows is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen as he steps into the water. “You don’t know how badly I want to undo those bikini strings with my teeth. Every single one. Then, I’m going to show you what happens when you taunt the beast and have him craving more. How does that sound, babydoll?”
Oh God.
“I want that. I want that so badly.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers, Paisley.”
I grin. “But they can beg…”
“Oh, they certainty can, babydoll.” He smirks. “They certainly can.”
Just as I’m about to peck Saint’s lips, I let out an excited scream as he drops me into the ocean waves, the murmured underwater echoes of his beautiful laughter bringing me back to life.
We spend the next two hours at this beach until 8:00 p.m. Swimming, sunbathing, and talking while walking along the shore, before deciding to head back to the beach house with about half an hour until sunset, although the breathtaking summer evening sky is already a perfect shade of a burgundy red, orange, and soft yellow delight.
I’m enjoying creating these memories with Saint. I absolutely adore it here at Stinson Beach. Glorious sunny skies. This sense of escapism right in the palm of your hands. A sensational little getaway from the normal routine of Sacramento life. Plus, everything is a walking distance, and everybody is just so friendly.
The second we step inside his beach house, Saint walks toward the sleek cocktail bar cabinet that is integrated into a part of his spacious kitchen. His back is to me as he picks up a bottle of whiskey and a glass tumbler.
I grin. Hmm.
I slide onto a cream kitchen barstool, my eyes appreciating ogling Saint’s body for a little too long, especially considering all he has on is a pair of swim trunks. That beautiful sun-kissed olive skin, all those toned muscles along his strong and athletic body… his beautiful broad shoulders… that back tattoo… his toned ass.
Saint’s eyes catch mine when he turns around, a heated glimmer lacing them as he nods toward the whiskey bottle he’s holding. “Want a drink?”
“Oh,” I tease, clasping my hands over the oversized marble kitchen island. “Are you forgetting I’m eighteen not twenty-one, Mr. Lisconti?”
Saint smirks. “Haven’t forgotten, Miss Reign.” His eyes darken to such a stimulating hunger. “Just want to know who I’m with right now, my good girl… or my bad girl?”
My heart picks up speed.
Oh my…
I cross my legs, feeling my bikini thong so wet in arousal at Saint’s words alone. There’s so much allure in his gaze and seduction in his words. I’m so damn horny.
“Your bad girl,” I purr through my lashes. “Always bad with you.”
“Jesus Christ, Paisley.” A moan escapes his lips and it’s confirmation that we’re in this too deep to let go now. “You know I would never give you a drink, especially not when all I want to do is bury my head between your thighs and taste you all night long right on this marble kitchen island—”
“I need a tequila, Saint. I need one right now.”
“Not happening.”
“Fine.” I smirk, getting up from the barstool and rounding the marble island. “I’ll make one myself. As soon as I figure out how to make one.”
The sexual tension between us couldn’t be any thicker as we come face-to-face in a heated extended stare. The air crackles. Desire lingers. The way Saint’s looking at me with so much starvation… I’ve never been this turned on.
“You really want a tequila?”
“Mmhmm.”
Saint stares at me for the longest time before letting out a frustrated sexual growl, “I’m going to hell for this. Absolute hell.” He puts away his whiskey arrangement and replaces it with two shot glasses, tall tequila bottle, and a saltshaker. I watch in awe as he pours tequila into the glasses and cuts two wedges of fresh lime in seconds.
So many firsts with Saint… and I love it.
“Thank you,” I say when he hands me my shot glass.
Saint takes his own and steps closer to me until my bare hips are pressed against the cold oversized marble kitchen island. He’s inches from pinning his body against mine. My ample breasts are heavy and my erect nipples are stabbing through the soft material of my red bikini, so sensitive and round, the only part of me that grazes against Saint’s bare chest.
I don’t know where to look. Those aroused blue eyes that take me on a journey I’m dying to explore. The dimples deepening on his stubbled cheeks as he smirks at me. How masculine and tall he is in front of me. Saint stands at six-two, towering over my five-three frame by almost a full foot. My gaze trails over his sexy lean physique with just the right amount of muscle… trim narrowed waist… breathtaking toned biceps with a few veins visible, ripped abs… that deep, vaunted V-line and trail of short dark hair just below his navel that leads beneath his swim trunks. That aching bulge in his shorts that’s so hard to miss. Wow.
Saint is an absolute alpha male at his prime, a former professional boxer who still keeps his stoic form and knows how to take care of his body with discipline. He must have so much endurance, so much stamina, and there’s something so erotic about that.
I’m so crazily physically attracted to him, but that’s not all I’m drawn to. There are so many layers, versions, and aspects I adore about Saint…
His mindset.
His dedication.
His intelligence.
His maturity and experience.
His openness to talk vulnerability.
His endless encouragement and support.
His constant reliability and humorous one-liners.
His spontaneous recklessness and Harley-lover soul.
His compassion when it comes to family and those he loves.
His golden caged heart, the Casablanca addict, and the chivalrous side.
This is some of what I like about Saint.
This is what I love.
Saint motions to our shot glasses. “I can’t believe I’m doing this with you.”
“Oh, you better believe it.” I grin. “Now, kindly help a woman out and teach me how to drink it.”
“Watch me, beautiful.”
Without ever losing my gaze, Saint uses his glistering tongue to lick and moisten the back of his hand between his thumb and index finger before sprinkling a pinch of salt over the skin.
My lips part in pure awe. Holy hell.
Saint’s ocean eyes continue to stay on me as he takes my hand in his and smoothly licks the same spot, like he did his. The tip of his warm tongue so achingly slow in its pursuit. It’s easily the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed. When he’s done, he sprinkles a pinch of salt on my hand too.
I don’t know how a simple movement can be so sexual, but my gosh… it is.
Saint gives us both a lime wedge.
“All right. All you’ve got to remember is lick, drink, and suck.”
Easy.
We bring our shot glasses together and clink them in salute. Saint raises his glass and I follow suit; ocean eyes are all I see.
“To new beginnings.” He smiles.
I smile back. “To all the firsts.”
After simultaneously licking the salt off our hands, we quickly down the strong tequila and slam the glasses on the marble island once we’re done. Oh God. I immediately scrunch my nose at the awful burning sensation down my throat and chest.
Holy shit. What the hell is in this crap?
Saint’s already laughing at me as he brings the lime to his lips and starts sucking on it. I follow suit, biting down on my juicy citric wedge. The smirk doesn’t leave Saint’s lips as he sets down his lime wedge on the island and leans forward, his hot breath hitting my skin as he murmurs, “Suck on the lime, baby. Suck on it. Don’t bite, suck.”
Oh. My. God.
Our continued eye contact becomes such a wicked thing as I suck on the lime. I cross my legs, feeling desire pool at Saint’s words alone. I know he was referencing the lime, but the innuendo was so evident in his sexual undertone. My heart picks up speed because I’m aching for what comes next. There’s so much allure in his gaze, seduction in his words. I just want him already.
I know it’s a big step for me. I’ve never been here before, but I’m so ready. I trust him so much. I know he’s going to take care of me. I want this. Need it. Crave it right now.
“Better?” Saint asks, the whisper so low.
“Better.”
“Give me a taste.”
In a flustered daze, I offer him my lime.
“Babydoll, I don’t mean the actual lime.” Saint chuckles. “I mean I want to taste that sweet citric blend on your tongue.”
My cheeks heat as I set the lime aside faster than my next breath. “Oh, right.”
“I love it when you blush like you are right now.” His warm lips trail across my right cheek, settling by my neck. “Makes me want you even more.”
Oh God, I can’t take this anymore. I need him.
“Please,” I beg. “Please, Saint.”
“Tell me what you want, babydoll.”
“You,” I breathe. “I need you. All of you.”
“God,” Saint breathes against my neck. “I need you so fucking bad too.”
“Show me.”
An uncontrollable moan escapes my throat at the sensation of his hard cock when Saint pins our bodies together against the kitchen island. I feel his erection press against my lower stomach through his swim shorts and go crazy.
“Feel that, baby?” he teases all breathy. “Do you feel how badly I want you too, hmm?”
“Yes, I feel it.” My words transform into a gasp as sparks skitter up my neck for every kiss Saint places there. He starts softly before going wild with reckless and rough hot kisses that have me moaning out his name and my pussy throbbing harder. “Oh, Saint. I need to feel you inside me so badly. Please. Please.”
“Such a bad girl, begging me to take you. I’m going to make you feel so fucking good, Paisley, going to make you come so damn hard with my tongue and then on my cock. I bet you taste so sweet. Bet your pretty pussy is so damn wet and tight for me.” Saint goes wild, teasingly nibbling at my neck before circling his tongue over the erotic havoc he makes. “Are you wet for me, babydoll?”
I love that he dirty talks. Dear God.
I need a release. Friction. Him.
“Yes,” I breathe.
“How wet?”
“So wet.”
My hands loop around Saint’s neck as he takes a hold of my hips and lifts me, setting me on the kitchen island. I wrap my legs around his waist, locking my ankles, loving how he holds the back of my knee so I can feel him deeper. A chill spreads across my entire body from the marble against my almost bare ass and thighs, but it all washes away when his warm hands roam my body, caressing every inch of my skin.
And then, Saint kisses me with so much possession, so much power it takes over me. The moment our sweet citric-laced tongues collide, a raging fire only he can ignite rumbles inside of me. Our tongues dance in smooth harmony as I cup the back of Saint’s head and pull him even closer to me mid-kiss. So intimate. So raw.
Kissing him changes me.
Heals me.
I love that Saint’s everywhere—his body so close it covers every inch of mine. I love that I feel his every groove. Every divot. Every muscle. Saint slowly strokes up my thighs, halting by my inner upper thighs. My pussy pulses faster. No amount of softly grinding against his hard cock over the fabric of his swim trunks makes it stop.
There’s so much longing in our heated kiss, so much allure as Saint gets lost weaving his fingers through my wavy ponytail. He tugs on it softly and it has us smiling through the kiss for a moment, but we don’t stop kissing, not even when his air becomes mine and vice versa.
Mid-kiss, Saint takes out my hair tie, letting my hair fall free behind my shoulder before he reaches around my back and blindly unties the spaghetti straps of my bikini top. The fabric falls and the heat between my thighs turns to a longing ache as Saint’s big hands mold my bare ample breasts, squeezing them. Oh yes.
Saint detaches his lips from mine and lowers his eyes to my breasts. “You’re so beautiful, Paisley. So fucking beautiful.”
My heart practically melts right here in this kitchen. Saint watches on with a smolder as I lean back on my forearms, buckling my hips toward his cock for friction with only two layers of clothing separating us.
“Use me,” he murmurs, continuing to caress my breasts as he grinds his hips with mine. “Fuckin’ use me, Paisley.”
The only other item of clothing I have on are my bikini thong bottoms. As exposed as my body is to Saint, I trust him so much. Yes, I’m hella nervous because this is a first, but he makes me feel so comfortable with the way he’s looking at me, as if he’s got me.
It feels so good having Saint’s hands on my bare skin, like a scorching flame. Saint focuses on my left breast and I almost quiver when he slips his pointer and middle finger around my nipple before he teases me by sexily tugging the tip, elongating my nipple before circling it with his thumb.
“Saint,” I gasp, tipping my head back in pleasure as he does the same to my right nipple. I roam my fingers through his hair, pulling him even closer. “That feels so good. Too good.”
“Mmhmm.”
The second Saint’s warm tongue flicks over my nipples and he alternates sucking on them mercilessly with just the right amount of suction, even more arousal pools in my thong. His tongue is so soft. So quick. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and it drives me into crazy ecstasy.
“Oh fuck,” I moan, my mind exploding as my grip on his hair tightens. There comes a point where I crave his lips, so I pull Saint’s head back up to me and we kiss frantically.
“Please. Touch me,” I whisper when we pull away, my lips brushing against his as my hot breath escapes. “Destroy me.”
Saint hisses. His hands move to my hips to halt how fast I’m gliding against his swim trunks. We were grinding so fast, so when I glance down at us now, I grin at the outline of his big hard cock through the fabric. It’s so evident due to the wet patch of arousal my sex transferred through my thong.
We stare deep into each other’s eyes and Saint’s are hooded. A tender longing laces them as he murmurs, “Lie down.”
My heart races in fast pitter-patters. I listen to him, bracing the coldness of the marble and I lie down on my back. With my legs straight I fit perfectly on the oversized kitchen island, just my hair sprawled out and hanging over the other edge.
“Spread your thighs.”
I spread them wide.
A slow, sexy smirk deepens on his lips. “Good girl.”
I grin.
My chest rises and falls breathlessly as Saint unties the sides of my bikini thong, watching intrigued as he undoes the final bow. Breathe. His piercing blue eyes hold mine as I suck in a deep breath.
“You with me, wildflower?” he whispers.
“Yes, I’m with you.” I nod. “Keep going.”
Saint slips off my bikini thong and blindly throws it aside. The wet fabric falls against the hardwood floors with a soft thump, my arousal so evident. I bite my lip, a cool breeze rushing across my bare sex as I lie naked on Saint’s kitchen island. His eyes darken as they roam the length of my body, still glowing in tanning oil, before hungrily stopping at my throbbing heat.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful, Paisley.” Saint strums the pad of his thumb over my sensitive clit, creating soft patterns that have me slapping a hand over my mouth at the tangled moans that fall. I gasp, my eyes shutting as his fingers glide down my wet pussy, feeling my warmth ever so slowly as if to tease me to see my reaction. “You feel so good. So wet for me.”
A gasp turned moan escapes me the moment Saint spanks my throbbing pussy, creating only waves of pleasure, then the intensity ramps up. Oh. My God. Yes. Saint spanks my sex a second time, the sound of my wetness making my hips buckle toward him in desire and clench down around nothing.
“Keep your eyes open, baby,” he murmurs. “I want to see your face when you come soon.”
I watch as Saint spreads all my glistering wetness around in several fast wide-handed rubs, before slipping two fingers inside me, and a breath escapes me as he begins to pump them hard inside me. “God, what a pretty hot pussy. So tight and wet for me, isn’t that right, amore?”
“Yes, all for you.”
“Mmhmm. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock and clenching down on me like you’re doing to my fingers right now. Can’t fucking wait, Paisley.”
I moan out again and again, and a second later he adds a third finger, working me so good and deep. My hips rock, desperate to meet the thrusts of his pumps, but he quickens the pace to an unbelievable rhythm. It’s as if I’m flying in the middle of pure bliss and ecstasy as our eyes lock.
I’m not going to last long. Not with the way he’s finger fucking my pussy.
I’ve never felt like this before. Never felt this addictive pleasure. My body is so responsive to Saint. Responsive to his every touch as his thumb returns to my clit and his three fingers continue to bring me closer and closer to the edge for several moments. His free hand squeezes my breasts together. Yes.
“I’m so close,” I breathe, arching my back and feeling myself clench around his fingers tighter when he continuously hits my G-spot. “Saint!” I scream out his name as his hand vibrates my entire body. “I’m going to… oh, God. I’m so close to…”
“Come for me, baby girl. Come on my hand like a good girl.”
Saint and I share a lust-filled smile, and it’s the most beautiful thing as my heavy eyes hold his blue-eyed gaze with such reverence. Saint’s hand on my breast reaches out to tenderly clasp my left hand by the marble island. Such a wholesome touch to the moment.
“Oh, my good God.”
“Feel it, baby. Feel yourself losing control.”
Warmth rushes across my entire body and I orgasm hard around his hand, gushing as I come undone. “Wow, Saint,” I pant, sucking in breaths after such high.
Saint smiles darkly as he sucks on the three fingers that were just inside me. They glisten with my orgasm and him licking off my taste is easily the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. Humming in satisfaction, his eyes roll to the back of his head. “You’re so sweet, Paisley. Want a taste?”
Grinning, I bite my lip and nod.
Saint gives me no mercy. He dominantly grips my ankles and uses them to roughly slide me closer to him on the marble kitchen island. I giggle as his strong arms hold my spread legs around his narrowed waist and he leans down to kiss me slowly. I taste myself on his tongue, so sweet with a hint of saltiness and tequila from earlier, and it’s enough to rile me up all over again.
“Why are you so good?” I murmur against his lips, taking advantage of him being closer, and caress his stubbled jaw. “You seriously blew my mind.”
“Oh, we’re just getting started, babydoll.”
Before I know it, Saint props my legs on his shoulders and our heavy eye contact never strays as he buries his head between my thighs with a sexy, smug smirk. His warm, wide tongue laps all over my pussy, and I curse in pleasure, gripping his hair to push him deeper into me as I fall back on the kitchen island. I’ll never forget the raspy growl he makes when I do.
I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough of this man.
My heart is about to beat out of my chest with how crazy my pulse throbs when his warm tongue continuously swirls over my clit before sucking on it with just the right amount of suction. Perhaps it’s the mixture of the lingering liquor, how turned on we both are, and the way I just screamed out his name and begged him not to stop, but Saint turns into a starved beast. He goes frantically wild, driving his tongue inside me before recklessly moving it up and down, side to side, diagonally, and swirling around over and over and over, until I’m breathless with the kind of pleasure I didn’t know could ever exist.
I haven’t even recovered from my last orgasm, and now I’m on the edge of my second.
Saint’s entire face is pressed against my pussy, his eyes shut like he’s enjoying every moment, and it turns me on even more that he wants this as much as I do. I throw my head back as he presses a hand over my taut stomach in possession to ease my quivering body as his tongue works magic.
It’s too much, so intense. His shoulder muscles contract and tense as he holds on to my legs tighter. The visual of a thirty-six-year-old man between my eighteen-year-old thighs. His stubble scraping my inner thigh as he eats me out like it’s an Olympic sport. Whoa.
I smile up at the ceiling, my knees buckling and legs trembling as waves of desire become more and more intense. I’m riveting in pleasure and after a few moments I reach my peak and come undone, squirting down his throat as I tug the ends of his hair through the moans. He rides out the orgasm with me and continues lapping his tongue over my pussy with a moan of his own until the wave eases and my breaths settle down.
When Saint finally looks up at me, still between my thighs, I grin down at him, and he gives me the most beautiful, dimpled grin back. He’s looking at me with such allure in his eyes as his lips and stubble glisten with my orgasm. So hot. I watch in pure adoration as he runs his tongue along his lips, gently sets down my legs from his shoulders, and kisses my ankles before helping me off the marble island.
“I think I’m addicted to you,” I whisper against his lips, all giddy. “I know earlier at the beach you said only a summer, but I don’t think I’ll be able to forget that for my entire life.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Yeah?” I smile, running my hand down his abdominal muscles, loving feeling all the ridges before teasing my finger over the band of his swim trunks. “You feel that way too?”
“Mhmmm.” Saint rests his forehead against mine. “The way you screamed my name. The way you writhed beneath me. You… All I want to do is hear those moans again as I fill you with my cock.”
“I want that so badly… I want you.”
“I know, but…”
“There’s always a but, isn’t there?”
A slow, sexy grin works up Saint’s lips. “I promise it’s for a good reason.”
“Go on.” I smile.
“As much as I want to devour you right this second, there’s this place I want to show you first. Whenever I’m here in Marin County there isn’t a time when I don’t visit it. I love it and thought you’d really like it too. So, earlier on today I made reservations for dinner tonight, so we have to be there in like twenty minutes from now.”
See, a romantic.
“Hmmm. I see what this is,” I tease. “You’re giving me a twelve-hour tour of Stinson Beach in Marin County. Trying to get as much in before my father finishes his shift, huh?”
Saint smirks. “Oooo. You’re onto me, aren’t you?”
“Always am. Anyway, go on…”
“Well, the place I want to take you to takes five minutes to get there by Harley. So, we kind of have to start getting ready now if you don’t want me to ruin the surprise.”
“Aww, that’s so nice. I can’t wait! But do you mean we need to get ready right now? Like right now, right now?”
“Yes, that’s typically what somebody means when they say right now.”
I groan, all while he can’t stop laughing at my reaction. I thought we had more time.
“Soon, baby.” Saint chuckles, his lips brushing against my ear. “When we return home, I’m all yours. I promise.”
His words thrill me. Home.
The second Saint and I step inside the restaurant and bar, Martin’s, I’m completely blown away. I’m surprised it isn’t the typical beach-style restaurant, especially with it being beach-side. It’s completely modern and on such a sophisticated level.
This place is spectacular, with moody darkish pallets mixed with creams and textured beiges throughout the entire bar and restaurant. I’m so in love with the black herringbone floor tiles in the bar section and that LED strip lighting beneath the granite bar counter. The front bar expands to a spacious restaurant section where Saint and I are currently sitting. Modern dark gray Venetian plaster aligns every wall. Opposite, an alternative band is performing on the sleek elevated stage. It’s why reservations are essential. Some couples are already dancing around it.
But what honestly surprises me the most is the bouquet of yellow roses in a vase with water on the oak table. Apparently, Saint arranged it as he explains he wanted to give me flowers for my graduation but didn’t want my father to question him and mistake the kind gesture for something odd. The roses right now, they’re gorgeous alongside the thin long candlestick beside it. This is such a beautiful and intimate setup, and for the man who doesn’t date, this feels like much more than showing me around Stinson Beach.
This felt like more.
When Saint told me to pack for the beach the other day, he also mentioned a spare change of clothes. So, I’m currently wearing my favorite yellow sundress that cuts off around my thigh, and a black lace pair of bra and panties. When I walked down the stairs of his beach house and saw Saint in elegant dark slacks and a white button-up shirt that was slightly unbuttoned with perfectly slicked-back hair and leather derby shoes, my stomach flooded with butterflies. I’m always so used to seeing Saint dressed like a sexy biker alpha. Classic jeans. Harley tee. Leather jacket. But when I saw him dressed so damn elegantly like the Italian man he is… it was just another level of beautiful. I’ll never forget the way Saint pulled me into him, kissed my cheek, and twirled me around to give my outfit even more justice before saying how much he loved it.
I swear I’ve blushed more times in these past seven hours with Saint than I have my entire life.
“I can see why this is your favorite place.” I grin, glancing around the lively modern restaurant and bar. Diners are everywhere enjoying their meals. “You know, I’ve been thinking. Why did you move here to Marin County… Stinson Beach?”
“To be honest, it was to escape from reality. A breath of fresh air. I lived in Santa Rosa up until before the first year of college. I was working a decent job at a restoring garage fixing up Harleys and other high-end motorcycles. I was paid exceptionally well because I worked every day and continued to even when I moved here to Stinson Beach. Here… Stinson Beach was almost like middle ground for me because I rode a lot between going back to Santa Rosa for family and work, and then the opposite side across the Golden Gate and past San Fran and Palo Alto for college at Stanford. You probably don’t want to hear all this, but…”
“No, of course I want to hear all of this. It interests me more than you know. It’s part of the full extent of Saint Lisconti, remember?”
Saint smiles across the leather booth. “I remember.”
“Good, so keep going.”
“Let’s go outside for a breather while I tell this long ass story.”
I agree and Saint flags down our server, telling him to keep our table reserved as we’ll come back in a bit. I follow Saint outside the front of the restaurant, thanking him when he holds the door out for me. The live music inside becomes mumbled as I take in a fresh breath of the ocean breeze once we’re outside. This is definitely the place to be.
It’s even a better view of the water and the long stretch of beach. So beautiful. There are a few diners outside, but Saint and I walk over to a little private section by the perimeter of the restaurant where we won’t be disturbed by anybody. The violent crush of the rocks beneath my Converses eases when Saint and I sit next to each other in two wooden chairs that surround a gorgeous outdoor firepit with glowing specks of orange and the comforting scent of cedar and campfire. The air is chilly, and a little windy too with the beach so close, so it’s nice to warm up a little with the soft orange hue of the flames our only light.
Saint gets comfortable in his seat and turns to me. “All right, as I was saying, I was making a sizable amount at work, so I bought the beach house.”
“What’s the story behind the beach house? Why a beach house?”
The question has been eating away at me ever since we first arrived.
“Why does there have to be a story behind it?”
“I just know you. Everything you do has a plan. The beach house must have been one of those plans.”
“You’re an intelligent woman.” Saint gulps down and pulls a packet of cigarettes and a lighter out of his slacks pocket. Just before he lights the cigarette, his eyes meet mine in a slight hesitation that I’ve never seen before. “Mind if I smoke?”
“No, not at all. Why do you ask? You’ve never asked before.”
“Well, you may smell like smoke when you get home. Wouldn’t want Alaric to notice.”
Oh.
“It’s okay, I’ll smell of the firepit anyway. I can just take a shower when I get home before my dad arrives.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. Go for it.”
Saint lights up his cigarette, settling the packet and lighter on the edge of the metal outdoor firepit. I keep my eyes on the glowing orange tip as he takes a drag, clouds of smoke circling his face. When he catches me staring, he offers the cigarette to me, a smirk rising on his lips because he most likely knows what my response is going to be.
I laugh, bringing my knees up to my chest on the chair with a shake of my head. “I can be your bad girl, but I’m not that adventurous when it comes to trying new things.”
Saint’s smirk deepens. “Fair enough. All right, where were we…oh yes, that’s it. You’re right. I did have a plan. A long time ago it wasn’t just a beach house to me, it was simply a home.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t know or else I wouldn’t have asked.”
“No, don’t apologize, Paisley. It’s good for me to get it out, I guess. Besides, you weren’t the one who broke my heart. It’s just… guilt can do a lot of things to you. Make you go fucking crazy.”
My heart aches for everything Saint’s been through.
Silence settles between us. I rub my hands together as sadness flashes across Saint’s eyes when they travel to the smooth ocean waves, and he blows out another cloud of smoke. My gaze follows his, outlooking the water.
“It seems like you blame yourself for whatever happened in your past… with Lea.”
“I blame myself for how it ended, not how she and I fell apart. Just like I’ve moved on from her, but not from the repercussions her actions still have.”
It’s as if I feel his pain right here next to him. I know what Saint’s trying to do by not looking my way. He’s hiding the emotion in his deep blue eyes, the same emotion I caught a peek of before he glances away toward the water. But I see right through him. I always do.
Saint’s never spoken of Lea to me this openly. So, I appreciate everything he entrusts me with and don’t take it lightly. Not in the slightest.
“Look at me, Saint.”
He doesn’t move.
“Saint?”
Nothing.
Caressing his back, my fingers fan out behind his neck and rub his warm skin.
Look at me, baby.
Gulping down, I smile sadly. “I can see how much pain you’re in for your past and all I want to do is ease it. I just want you to know that whatever happened in your past isn’t your fault.”
“But it is,” Saint chokes out, turning my way. The sadness in his eyes haunts me. “It’s all my fault.”
“Look, I understand the betrayal and hurt and loss you are feeling. You’ve been caged to these feelings for so long that it’s all you believe and holding onto regret and punishing yourself for it, but it isn’t the way to live.”
“It may not be, but it’s the only thing I seem to get right.”
“You know that’s not true, beautiful blue-eyed boy.” I cup his stubbled jaw and he leans his head into my hand. “You love her, Saint. I see it in your eyes how much you do.”
“Loved,” he corrects. “I don’t love her anymore. Love destroyed me.”
“Will you talk to me about Lea?”
“One day. Not today.”
“Is Lea why you’re afraid to love again? Because you’re afraid to be hurt again?”
“No, I’m afraid I’ll fuck it up and break your heart. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to hurt you. Ever. I don’t want to hurt Alaric either.”
“So, where does that leave us?”
I so desperately need to know.
The air crackles between us.
“One summer.” Saint swallows thickly, his eyes softening. “It’s all I can give you, Paisley. One summer filled with you.”
My heart stops at the words he’s just spoken because I already know how impossible it will be for me. I need more. Crave more. I look up at Saint through my lashes earnestly, honestly. It’s without any added filters. Just me. Just an eighteen-year-old woman, looking at a thirty-six-year-old man who I’ve had close to my heart for three long years.
Saint Lisconti—the same man I’ve had sleepless nights rolling around in my bed fantasizing about—is sitting right beside me. He’s the only man I feel understands me more than I do myself. A true angel, with the look of a devil, one I want to unravel and show him he’s no sin. I want to do it badly. So. Badly. Right now.
I search his eyes. “What if I want more than just a summer with you?”
“You won’t. Seattle will fill that gap. We explore everything there is to explore, and then we walk away.”
Bittersweet. This is so damn bittersweet.
“I’m hoping to find an apartment in Seattle and move there at the start of August. So, I’ll stay there a month before college begins to settle in and adjust to the new city.”
“So then it won’t be a summer. It’ll be eight weeks then?”
“Eight weeks,” I confirm, knowing I so desperately need more, but if this is all he can give me, I’ll willingly take it without mercy.
“Two months.”
“Sixty-one days of what specifically? Of… some sort of relationship?”
“Yes. Sixty-one days of each other uninhabited. Okay. We need rules.”
I smirk. “I didn’t think you were the rules kind of guy.”
My comment brings out the warmest smile on his lips, a warm welcome from the gloom cast over us only moments ago. It feels so good to see him smiling again because it brightens every avenue inside me too.
“Me neither.” Saint chuckles. “But if it’s one thing I want, it’s exclusivity.”
I grin and press a kiss to his cheek. “Of course, and I think we can both agree that we need to hide what’s going on from my father.”
“Agreed. That’s the most important aspect, that and having honest communication if anything should change between us, not that we’re not honest already.”
“Exactly, and the rest… I guess we can just make up the rest of the rules as we go, yeah?”
Saint grins back. “Mmhmm. I like the sound of that.”
I’m surprised my heart’s still okay because it’s beating so fast it may just explode.
I bite my lip mid-smile, thrilled that this is actually happening.
“Me too,” I say just as my stomach growls so loudly, and we burst out into laughter.
“Let’s go inside. I didn’t take you out to dinner only for us to starve out here.”
“Oh, you took me out to dinner, did you?” I smirk with a playfully arched brow. “Is this a date, Mr. Lisconti?”
I love teasing Saint, especially because he’s always so sly and humorous about it.
Saint throws his head back in laughter, his deep dimples even more beautiful against the shadowed carving of the firepit’s flames. “Definitely not a date, Miss Reign.”
Hmm.
“Sure, sure, Mr. When-I-Take-A-Plane-To-Switzerland.”
“Oh, God. I shouldn’t have ever sung those songs to you. Now you’re going to embarrass me for an eternity.”
“Not an eternity, just from time to time.”
“Mhmmm that’s better, good girl.” Saint winks as he puts out his cigarette with his leather shoe and stretches as he stands up to his tall height. He’s a truly charming Italian gentleman when he holds out his hand for me and helps me out of the wooden chair with that smolder on his lips that I love.
Our hands clasp as we walk toward the entry of the restaurant and bar we’re at and it warms me completely. The sensation of feeling so seen whenever I’m with Saint doesn’t ease, especially not when he lowers his lips to my ear and softly begins singing, “When I take a plane to Switzerland, don’t take one there too. You had your chance to get to me, now you need an ‘I owe you’, ’cause you owe—” Saint doesn’t get far before he breaks out in chuckles. “Hahaha!”
I can’t stop laughing alongside him all the way back to our oak table because this is what life is all about… feeling alive.
