Zach laughed. “Sounds good. Meet you out front.”
“Well, guess that’s it for me, folks.” Lindsey stood, wobbled a bit, then laughed. “Shit. I’m drunk.”
Snorting, Gator stood as well. “I’ll help you out front.” He swung an arm around Lindsey’s shoulders, making them both stumble.
Beth laughed. “Pretty sure you’ll only make it worse, Gator.”
Truer words had never been spoken.
“Nah, we’re all good. Right, babe?”
Lindsey leaned into him and blinked heavy-lidded eyes. “Huh?”
Saint rolled his eyes while Beth laughed.
After saying their goodbyes, Gator and Lindsey somehow made it into the clubhouse without falling flat on their faces, leaving him and Beth alone outside.
“This was fun,” she said. “I, uh, I should probably turn in.” She stood and faced him. “I’m gonna crash here tonight.”
“I heard.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced at the clubhouse before looking back at him while she wrung her hands near her waist. “Okay. Well, I’m in the last room on the left, down the mainhall.” She paused, and the air between them thickened. “Just… so you know.” She shifted, bit her lip, and his gaze dropped before he could stop it. Beneath her thin tank top, he could see the faint peaks of her hardened nipples pressing against the fabric.
God, she was turned on, aroused, and offering him her room number like a key.
His dick thickened in his jeans, filling so fast it bordered on painful.
“Now I know.” His voice came out rougher than intended.
She nodded once, then headed toward the clubhouse.
Saint forced his gaze to stay straight and not drift down to her round ass as she walked away. If he was going to walk into the clubhouse after hanging out with her, he needed to do it without a visible boner tenting his jeans.
The heavy door creaked open, then closed with a thud as Beth disappeared into the clubhouse.
Saint breathed out slowly, letting his head fall back against the chair. One hundred seconds. That’s how long he’d give himself before he followed her inside, found that last room on the left, and did what they’d both been dying to do since the moment she came home.
He began to count down from one hundred.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BETH SAT ON the edge of the queen-size bed with fresh sheets and blankets, staring at the white ceiling above her. “Why do you do this shit?” she muttered. When no voice from above answered, she stood and paced the length of the small, minimalistic clubhouse room. Back in the day, they had one bunk room with ten or so beds. As the club expanded, opening a chapter in Florida, Copper renovated the clubhouse, adding six private rooms, each with a small, attached bathroom for guests who might require more privacy. Currently, club members and prospects occupied three of them and would continue to do so until they found a more permanent living situation.
The rooms weren’t luxurious by any means, but they were clean, had a bed, a small dresser, and an easy chair. A few black-and-white pictures hung on the wall, Smoky Mountain scenery, and motorcycles, all shot by a local photographer.
She’d planned on having a quiet, family-free night to herself, where she could stew and stress about what Saint got up to all afternoon, but then he showed up.
And they hung out the entire evening into the night. Beth learned something during that time, and now she felt as if the ground beneath her had fractured, and if she didn’t watch her step, she’d fall through a crack into a deep crevasse.
She liked Saint.
A lot.
Liked the way his mind worked. Liked his dry wit. Liked his intensity, especially when he stared at her as though he could seeevery one of her thoughts. Sure, she’d been attracted to him all along. He was a gorgeous man, tall with tattoos and muscles for days. He had dark eyes she easily lost herself in, and the perfect length of hair to tangle her fingers in.
But tonight, she realized her attraction went deeper than his very appealing physical attributes. She wanted to know him. To crack him open and have him tell her everything he’d kept hidden from others.
He wasn’t nearly as talkative as the rest of them, but she found that charming as well. He didn’t need to fill every second with conversation and seemed totally at ease just being in a space.
