Oh my fucking god. I’d just gotten jacked off by another man in a men’s locker room shower like something out of a porn scene. And not just any man. A gargantuan navy SEAL man. With like muscles and ink and… basically the cutest baby face on the planet.

I glanced at the ink wrapped around his upper arm and recognized it as a frog skeleton holding a trident. The reminder of his service in the special forces caused my empty cock to try reviving. God, Saint’s body was hot as fuck.

I looked back up at him and saw the concern there. What in the world did he have to be worried about? That I would tell someone? His boss?

For whatever reason, that insecure look on his face convinced me to show him my true feelings for once, without holding back. My entire face broke into an enormous grin before I hopped up against him to crush my lips to his, throwing my arms around his neck to hold on and my legs around his waist.

He made an oof sound before his arms tightened around me to hold me against him. My mouth attacked his and demanded entrance; he met me kiss for kiss, and we devoured each other’s mouths until we pulled away panting. We stayed crotch to belly until our cocks were hard again and shifted alongside each other as he set me down.

“Not that I’m complaining, but that was a surprise,” Saint said with an adorable smile. The twisted tooth was there, and seeing it revealed in his goofy grin loosened something inside of me.

“Do you have any idea what kind of torture it’s been to take a shower in the Twist locker room with you naked only a few feet away and not be able to touch you?” I asked.

“Ah, yeah. If it’s anything like the kind of torture I’ve been experiencing with you in there lately, I know exactly how it feels.”

I studied his relaxed face and suddenly felt brave. “Come home with me.”

When we walked out into the parking lot, it didn’t take long for me to put the shower sex out of my mind and replace it with thoughts of getting Saint Wilde’s mouth back on mine. Since there was no way to make out with him while he was driving, I had to make do with conversation instead.

“Why did you leave the service?” I asked when we got underway. I’d been curious about his past since he was only thirty or so and already finished with his military career.

Saint looked over at me before putting his eyes back on the road. The dim lights from the dash illuminated the blond beard scruff on his jaw.

“Lots of reasons, really. Otto got into an accident on a ship. I knew he wanted out but was afraid to leave without me. Then my sister Hallie sent me an email telling me about MJ working crazy hours and losing weight. She’s always worked really hard anyway, but when you’re an attorney trying to prove yourself to the managing partners, it can turn into something really dangerous. But what finally pushed me into leaving was Lanny offering me this job. The ability to work in the security field and still live close to my family was like a dream come true.”

“MJ lives in Dallas too, right?”

“Yes. Three of my four sisters live in the city. Sassy is the only one still in Hobie.”

I thought about which of the reasons had been the most compelling. “You really love working for Landen, don’t you?”

He shrugged. “Lanny was our team leader on some truly epic missions, and he’s one of the smartest, bravest men I know. I’d follow that fucker anywhere. Letting him down on the Gemma job gutted me.”

It explained so much about the push-pull he seemed to have with me. Honestly, it soothed my nerves a little. I could handle Saint avoiding me out of a sense of honor, respect for Lanny, or his own personal work ethic much more than thinking he just wasn’t that into me.

“What happened with the Gemma job? She’s a famous singer. I take it you were teaching her self-defense lessons?”

I’d said that on purpose to tease him, but I’d been more successful than I expected with the deadpan delivery.

Saint glanced over at me again with wide eyes. “Are you… are you kidding?”

“Yes, I’m kidding,” I said with a laugh. “That spoiled diva wouldn’t want to lift a painted nail to defend herself in a fight, so you couldn’t have been teaching her self-defense. Were you training her bodyguards or something? Teaching them kickboxing to help them stay in shape?”

He made a huffing sound before giving up trying to be indignant and letting his laughter appear. The man had a damned dimple in his cheek when he laughed, and I ached to press my lips against it. I could feel the phantom stubble against the tender skin of my lips in my mind’s eye.

“Jerk,” he said with a grin. “I was the lead personal security specialist on her close-protection team.”

I ran my palms down the tops of my legs. “Yeah, I may or may not have googled you and seen the media fireworks from that little episode. Sounds like the woman had it coming to her.”

“Whether she did or not is immaterial. I should never have lost my cool on a job.”

Saint’s eyes remained focused on the road, but his smile was gone. I reached over and clasped his hand. “Maybe not, but it’s nice to know you’re not perfect.”

He picked up our joined hands and brought them to his lips, brushing a soft kiss across my knuckles before resting our hands back down on his muscled thigh. The heat of his body permeated his dark jeans, which only made me want to crawl over the center console and curl up in his lap like a kitten.

“What about you?” he murmured. “Tell me about opening the shop.”

We spent the rest of the drive talking back and forth about how we’d gotten to where we were today. Both of our stories had been shaped by strong family influences. It had taken the death of my great-aunt and strong encouragement from my sister to leave the auction house where I’d worked in the city and open my own shop, but I told Saint how I already knew in less than a year it was exactly what I was supposed to be doing. And Hobie was exactly where I was supposed to be doing it.

He told me about his shockingly large family. He was the fourth-oldest of ten children, and was especially close to Otto, who’d been born less than a year after Saint and MJ. As he described what it was like growing up basically in chaos, I was struck by just how very differently we’d been raised.

Saint’s family had been loud and fun, scrappy and messy. Mine had been elegant and staid, like a delicate flute of Cristal compared to Saint’s cardboard carton of chocolate milk.

I’d always craved chocolate milk.

I must have gone off in my head at some point because suddenly the hand I’d been holding was brushing through my hair.

“Augie? Did I lose you?”

His voice was almost as low and soothing as the steady sound of the truck’s tires on the highway. The darkness had lulled me into a semi-stupor. There was soft classic country music playing in the background.

“Hm? I think maybe I blinked offline for a minute,” I admitted. “Sorry.”

His fingers in my hair comforted me. If I hadn’t recognized the turnoff to my county lane, I’d have been tempted to let him soothe me right back into a daze.

When we entered the farmhouse, I noticed him looking around at the newly clean space and was doubly grateful Kat and Rory had helped me put the place back to rights while they were in town.

“Do you want something to drink?” I asked, trying desperately to ignore the nervous rolling of my stomach.

“Sure. I’ll take a beer if you have it.”

“Of course.” I tried to calm my breathing for a brief moment as I headed toward the kitchen. After grabbing two bottles out of the fridge, I found a jar of mixed nuts in the pantry and brought everything to the family room off the kitchen area.

Saint took a seat on the sofa, and I set the items on the coffee table in front of him before freezing up. Where the hell did I sit? If I sat next to him on the small sofa, would he think I was desperate? If I sat on the chair next to the sofa, would he think I wasn’t interested?

Before I had a chance to decide, he sighed and muttered, “C’mere,” before yanking me down onto his lap and grabbing my face for a kiss.

“Stop fucking thinking,” he mumbled against my lips. “It’s exhausting just watching you struggle with yourself.”

I wanted to get defensive—to tell him it wasn’t easy to come to terms with the fact I was selfishly putting him in a horrible position with his work. But I was too busy falling into a deep pool of desire where every nerve ending in my body seemed to be alight with shimmering pleasure and all I wanted was more.

“Mm-hmm,” I managed to say into his mouth. It was the closest I could come to “Okay, yes, less thinking and more kissing. Soooo much more kissing.”

I felt his smile against my lips as his large fingers cupped my face. “You taste so fucking sweet,” he whispered, almost to himself.

As the kissing deepened and his tongue pushed into my mouth, I turned and straddled his lap, resting my knees and legs on either side of his hips and straightening up to put my arms around his neck. His hands moved to my hips and around to my back. They were strong and firm—possessive in a way I’d never sensed from someone before. I felt sure of his touch in a way I’d never felt with a random hookup, and I realized I fucking loved it. Everything about the encounter was lighting my fire like I’d never imagined.

Saint moved his mouth down to kiss my jaw and neck, shifting just enough to remind me of the giant bulge in his jeans. I groaned without realizing it and brought a hand down his chest and torso to hover over his dick. I wanted so badly to touch it, but I was still nervous and unsure. What if this was all some kind of joke? What if I touched his cock and he beat the shit out of me for it?

Before I could lecture myself about overthinking things again, Saint put his hands back on my face and pulled back from kissing my neck. I snapped my eyes open when I realized he’d stopped.

“What?” I asked.

“If you’re not into this, please tell me now,” Saint said in a quiet voice. “It’s okay, Augie. I’ll just head out. You won’t hurt my feelings.”

Something about that didn’t sit right with me, but I didn’t take the time to figure out what it was.

“I’m into it, Saint. Jesus, can’t you tell I’m into it? What made you say that?”

“You left and went somewhere in your head. I get it. This has to be strange for you, but I don’t want to be any part of making you feel uncomfortable.”

I moved my hands up to his chest and ran a finger along the side of his Adam’s apple. Goose bumps raised behind my touch, and I looked back into his eyes. He seemed to be waiting patiently, and I wanted to kiss him for that.

“You don’t make me feel uncomfortable or strange,” I said. “You make me feel…” I swallowed and felt tears pricking in my eyes as I realized the truth. “You make me feel more normal than I’ve ever felt in my life… and that’s what’s strange.”

I couldn’t look at him, and part of me wanted to run and hide after admitting that to him. Instead, I leaned forward and rested my forehead against his chest and waited. I waited for him to laugh, for him to make fun of me. I waited for him to shove me off him and leave. I knew it was the judgment and bullying in my past that messed with my head in that moment, but it still felt real. Even though he’d never given me reason to expect it from him, rejection was still one of my biggest fears. In truth, I was waiting for him to come to his senses. There were so many things I waited for Saint to do, but he did none of those things.

Instead, he wrapped his arms tightly around me and stood up. Then that hot motherfucker carried me to my bedroom.