Falling In (Taking the Fall #4)(2)

He cocks his head to the side, making eye contact with me in the mirror and his whole face breaks out in a grin, causing the scar on the side of his face to crinkle. I don’t know what it is about that scar but every time I see it I want to lick it, lick him. I feel pretty boy lean down and whisper in my ear.

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that.”

I keep my eyes locked on Saint and watch the smile drop from his face. The click of the new shots being dropped down in front of me makes me snap my eyes away from him. I reach for the shot knowing I’m going to need it if I have to share the bar with Saint tonight. If I see him hit on another woman I might lose it. All this dancing around each other for weeks is getting old and I’m over it. At least that’s what I tell myself. Before I can grab the shot Saint is picking it up from over my shoulder and shooting it back. I forget how tall he is sometimes. I’m not short by any means. I’m about five eight, and in heels I always reach six foot. Still Saint towers over me, but never once have I felt intimidated around him. In fact, pretty boy scares me more than him.

“What the f*ck?” the suit barks at Saint. Saint just gives him a look that could probably kill, and the man lifts his hands and backs away. Placing a hand on each side of the bar, he cages me in. I look back up into the mirror so I can see his face. My back leans into his chest as if it has a mind of its own. Like it belongs there.

“Mama,” he whispers into my ear, and it makes me clench my jaw. I’m sure he notices. He seems to notice everything.

“I wasn’t done with him yet and you owe me a shot,” I say, smirking at him in the mirror.

“One, I want you sober for what I have planned for you, and two, you don’t need him. You have me,” he whispers in my ear before taking my lobe into his mouth.

“Maybe I don’t want you anymore,” I moan, pissed at myself for letting it come out like that.

“Not a man in the place that’ll do what I’m willing to do for you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, Mama”

“And what would you do for me?”

“Any f*cking thing you asked.”

Spinning in my chair to face him, I stand up, making him take a step back. “That so…Daddy?” Hey, if he’s going to call me Mama, two can play this game. He looks down at me, taking in what I have on: a short dress that shows off my legs in all their glory. I may not have curves like a lot of girls but I have killer legs. I see him visibly swallow.

I love that I affect him like this.

“I don’t know what to make of you, Saint. One second you say the most perfect things and the next...well, I just don’t know,” I tell him. It’s true. Sometimes he looks at me and I know that he wants me. Then other times he can get that deadly look in his face.

“Mama, you let me have you and I’ll be a docile f*cking kitten that will eat out of your hand.”

I can’t help but smile at his words. I wonder if they’re true. Would Saint let me have my way with him? I can’t see a man like him letting me tie him to the bed or dropping to his knees. I don’t always like to be in control but sometimes it can be fun. A lot of men won’t give up that control.

“You’ll do anything I ask?” I question, wanting him to take the bait. If it’s a challenge it won’t make me feel so bad about my going back on my whole ‘I’m done with him’ convictions. Plus I want to prove him wrong. Men won’t do anything for you. They only do what gets them theirs. I learned that lesson a long time ago.

“If I said it got me off to shove my dildo up your ass, would you let me?”

“I have to say, Mama, that doesn’t sound too great but if you do it naked I think I can handle it…if it gets you off that is.”

It didn’t, but the idea that he would let me because I wanted to did.

Reaching up, I grab a handful of his hair and pull him down to kiss me. I might have initiated the kiss but Saint takes it over. He pushes his tongue into my mouth, not waiting for an invitation. This kiss is wet, uncontrolled and almost sloppy. It’s like he can’t get enough of my mouth. Next thing I know my legs are around him, and he is moving through the bar. I can hear the catcalls and hoots and hollers of the people around us, but I don’t care and Saint doesn’t seem to either. He keeps going at my mouth like a starving man. I feel his cock jerk against my panties, and then I feel a wetness. Oh, my God.

I break my mouth away from him “Did you just come?” I ask, all breathy as I try to suck air into my lungs.

“How could I not?” he replies as if it’s a crazy question and recaptures my mouth. Holy f*ck. I close my eyes to shut everything else out and grind against his cock. He might have just come, but he is still rock hard, and I’m so very close to getting there myself.

I hear a click and open my eyes to see that we’re in the women’s bathroom. Saint locks the stall door.

“I hate to do this here, Mama, but I have to taste you,” he growls, before dropping to his knees in front of me. “I’m pissed I got to come before you. I promise I have better manners than that.”

He slides his hands up my dress and with one hard yank rips my panties off.

“Show me,” I challenge him. Reaching down, I pull at my dress until the material bunches at my hips.

“Now you show me,” I say, happy with the fact that my voice doesn’t crack. I’m confident when it comes to sex, but something about Saint shakes me.