“Wait,” she murmured, her eyes turning to slits. Taking a step back, she let out a cry and gave the dude a hard kick in the ribs. She reached down to retrieve the notebook she’d dropped on the floor, then straightened up again and squared her shoulders. “Now, I feel better,” she declared.
Her voice was soft and melodious, and it hit me somewhere deep. She sounded like a song, even when she spoke a normal sentence, and it grabbed my attention. It also hit me in the dick because suddenly, all I could think of was that same soft melodic voice crying out my name while I feasted on her sweet little cun?—
“Thank you,” she said, her tone earnest.
I grinned down at her. “Just doin’ my job, darlin’.”
Her cheeks pinked, and she stuck out her hand, “I’m Saint.”
“Saint, huh?” I took her hand, lifted it to my mouth, and touched my lips to the back of her hand before breathing, “Jacob.”
“Jacob.” She whispered my name like she was trying it out in her mouth just to see what it would sound like and fuck me if I didn’t like it a whole damned lot. The tip of her tongue came out to touch her lip, and I wondered how such a shy, nervous gesture could make my cock kick harder than Morten Andersen going for a Superbowl-winning PAT.
It wasn’t just about that, though. She was fucking beautiful, curvy like a fifties pin-up girl, with a face that could soften the most jaded of men. Her lips were pink and puffy, her hair bleached blonde, and face framing where it was cut just below her jawline. It should have looked harsh, but the peachy softness of her skin and the appealing roundness of her face balanced it all out perfectly.
There was no doubt she bordered on angelic, but what really did it for me were her eyes.
They were big, round, and the bluest blue I’d ever seen, darker than the summer sky but lighter than the ocean. I couldn’t describe the color because I’d never seen it before. Her clothes were cool and edgy with a pretty girl twist. Even her name was hot.
Stare never leaving hers, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, only glancing down briefly to click the top name of my call log. After a few rings, my brother Diablo answered with a loud, “Yo!”
“Gotta sitch, brother,” I told him. “Back corridor leading to the dressing rooms. Caught a guy going after a girl who works here. I put him on his ass.”
Blondie’s eyes drifted back to the weirdo on the floor, and her face hardened.
I liked that about her too. Saint wasn’t hysterical or losing her head. She was keeping it together in a way that proved she could hack my life. I wouldn’t have blamed her for being upset; she had been attacked after all, but she also saw the situation was in hand.
“Be right there,” D barked.
“Roger and out,” I muttered and disconnected the call.
“Army?” she asked, referencing my military speak.
“Air Force,” I corrected. “Fighter pilot. You sure you’re okay?” I asked, my eyes locking with hers, suddenly feeling winded by the intensity in them.
She shot me a smile bright enough to blind me. “Yeah. I’ve had worse.”
My chest twisted because I didn’t like that. I didn’t like the way she was so blasé about being fucking attacked. It wasn’t something she should be used to, and certainly not something she should normalize because that shit was as far from normal as you could get.
My gaze caught on her chest, and I frowned at the angry mark there. “Where did he grab you?”
“He just groped my boobs mostly.” She shuddered.
Turning, I stooped down, pulled my fist back, and punched the fucker across the side of the head again, ignoring Saint’s gasp.
He let out a groan and began to come to just as the sound of boots echoed, and Diablo’s voice barked from the ether, “Brother? What the fuck’s goin’ on?”
“Here.” I hauled the pervert up by the collar and slammed his back against the wall just as Diablo rounded the corner, closely followed by our brothers Pyro and Mac.
“What the fuck?” he exclaimed, his eyes narrowing on the guy I had pinned. “This the asshat?”
“Yeah.” I tugged the sick fuck away from the wall and threw him in the direction of my brothers. “Fucker needs to be on a goddamned watch list.”
Pyro caught the dude by the back of his shirt and shoved him toward Diablo, who took a handful of the fucker’s hair before getting in his face and snarling, “You a fuckin’ pervert, boy?”
“N-no,” he stuttered. “I just wanted to talk to he?—”
Diablo pulled his head back and smashed his skull into the fucker’s face. Blood sprayed, and I heard a sickening crunch. “I’ll cut your fucking fingers off,” the SAA growled. “See how well you touch women then.”
