She couldn't help herself. She rested her cheek against his chest for just a moment before pulling away. "I think you mean once I'm looking better, because other than a slight throb in my eye, I'm fine."
Stake cupped her face between his big hands and tilted her head back until their eyes met. "Even bruised you're more beautiful than any woman I've ever known."
"Yeah, right. I remember the women who used to hang all over you." She didn't mention how jealous she'd always been of the big-titted sluts.
"Do you? Because I don't. I've had bitches in my bed since I was fourteen, and I don't remember a fuckin' thing about any of them." He ran his thumb over Santana's lower lip, avoiding the healing split. "I want you so bad I can't stand it."
She touched the tip of her tongue to his thumb. She had no idea why he'd want her, but she'd thought of nothing else for years. "Then take me," she whispered.
He leaned down and brushed his lips over her mouth. "Someday, but not yet."
Chapter Four
Stake heard the backdoor open behind him just as he ended the call with Jack. "They're finally done with your house, so I'll run over and pack up your clothes," he told Santana.
"Can I go?" she asked.
"I don't think that's a good idea." He shoved his phone into his back pocket before turning around to face her. "I don't mind doing it."
She tucked her long dark hair behind her ears. "I think Momma had a black dress in her closet. I want to see if it fits, so I can wear it when we go to the cemetery."
"I'll buy ya a black dress." He'd called Cecil to see if either Mad Dog or Hog could meet him at Santana's, but Cecil had given him a bullshit excuse about how it would be best for the club if they kept their distance from the crime scene. It was fucked up because Stake didn't trust himself not to kill Gordon if he saw him.
She crossed her arms, drawing his attention to her large tits. "Maybe I don't want you going through my things."
"Tough shit." He decided to tell her the truth. "Gordon's being released today, and I don't want you anywhere near him."
The color drained from her gorgeous face. "It's been less than three days. How's he getting out?"
"Evidently, his injuries were more superficial then they led us to believe." He moved to wrap his arms around her. "I won't let him hurt you again. If the cops don't do their job, believe me, I'll take care of Gordon myself." It's the way he'd wanted it in the first place. The only reason he'd gone along with Cecil's demand to take Santana to the hospital was to keep her from getting into trouble with the law.
"No." She rested her cheek on his chest. It was something she'd done on several occasions and each time, it filled him with a sense of warmth he'd never felt before. "I lost my dad that way; I won't lose you, too."
He held her tighter. "What kind of man would I be if I let Gordon get away with what he did to you? If it means going to prison, I'll pay the price."
"And leave me alone, just like Smash did, to fend for myself?" She pushed against his chest until he released her. "No. I can't go through that again. I'll kill him myself before I let you do something like that for me."
No way in hell would he let his woman do his job. Stake stilled, realizing he'd already begun to think of her as his. He watched her pace around the back porch, the T-shirt barely covering her bare ass and knew in his gut, she was his woman. He dug his phone out and looked at the time. If they hurried, they could be in and out of her house before nine. Surely, the hospital wouldn't release Gordon that early. "Let's go."
She smiled and jumped off the side of the porch to the dirt below. "Are we taking the bike?"
He would love nothing more than to feel her wrapped around his back, but it wasn't possible. "I'd like to get everything out of the house that you're going to need for the next few months. Can't do that with the bike." He opened the passenger door of the old truck and waited for her to get in before going around to climb behind the steering wheel.
"Can we take the bike to the cemetery once we get Momma's ashes? I think Dad would appreciate that."
"Sure." He kept his eyes on the road and off the bared legs beside him. For three days, those fucking legs had teased him. Although he'd seen her naked on the night of the attack, he hadn't been in the position to truly worship her body the way it deserved. He wanted to touch and lick every inch of her sun-bronzed skin while she moaned underneath him. Fuck. He released the steering wheel and dropped his right hand to his lap in an attempt to hide his erection. Not to brag, but he was a big man, and when his body decided to respond sexually, there was no way in hell to successfully hide it.
"Stake?"
"Yeah?" He waited for her to continue. When she didn't, he glanced her way.
"How long before I heal enough?" she asked.
Since he hadn't seen her wounds since the first night, he wasn't sure how to answer. He returned his attention to the gravel road. "I don't know. Bruises can take a while to disappear completely, but the swelling is pretty much gone already. Why? Are you hurting?"
She shook her head. "Because I want you to touch me, and you said I needed to heal first."
"Fuck, baby," he groaned. "It's not your body I'm worried about. I thought I made that clear. I just don't want to push the physical stuff until I know you're ready for it. Freaking you out isn't something I'm willing to do."
Again, silence greeted him. He wasn't sure what else to say, so he kept his mouth shut and wondered if he'd ever understand Santana's moods.
After packing her own clothes, Santana started on her mom's closet. Although they wore the same size, they'd always had very different tastes. Ellie had dressed for Smash, but Santana didn't have anyone to impress, so she chose to be comfortable. She glanced down at her old ratty jean shorts. Yep, comfort.
"So what's up with the blue tarp on the roof?" Stake asked from the bedroom doorway.
Her hand closed around the black dress she'd been looking for. "The roof leaks." Duh.
"I figured that much, but why haven't you hired someone to fix it?"
"We tried. A few years ago, Mom gave me permission to sell Dad's bike so we could have the roof replaced. The guys who were going to do it said they needed half the money up front to buy supplies. Unfortunately, they never came back to do the work." It had been an expensive lesson, but one that she'd never forget.
"That's bullshit. Did you report them?"
"Tried, but the cops said they couldn't do anything since I didn't have a contract." She held the dress in front of her and studied herself in the mirror. The jersey dress was short, but at least the neckline wasn't as low as some of the other dresses and shirts in her mom's closet. "Anyway, that's the last time I trusted anyone in this town."
Stake stepped into the room and leaned against the wall beside the closet. "You trust me," he pointed out.
"Mostly." She didn't want to hurt his feelings, but she wasn't positive that she truly trusted him. Not that it was the same, but she supposed she felt closer to him than anyone. However, even though he had been nothing but kind, she knew she couldn't count on him to stick around. He'd left before, and once he realized how fucked up she was, he'd probably leave again. Funny, she was fucked up because she wasn't fucked up over what happened with Gordon. She might be withdrawn, but she wasn't stupid. Any other woman who'd been through what Gordon had done to her would be traumatized. What exactly did it say about her that she didn't feel what everyone expected her to feel?
In an attempt to change the subject, she held the dress up. "I need to try this on."
He shook his head and moved to pull several dresses, skirts and blouses from Ellie's closet. "You'll have to take these with us. I want to be long gone before they release Gordon."
Santana studied the dress in her hand. She had much bigger breasts than her mom, but she didn't have anything else that would be appropriate for a funeral. Perhaps Stake knew she didn't have anything that looked nice. Maybe that's why he'd pulled the clothes from her mom's closet. "Okay."
"Is there anything else in here you want to take with us?" he asked.
"Yeah." She handed the dress to him before gathering several photos from her mom's dresser. She stared down at the simple thin gold band that sat on the bedside table and suddenly felt guilty that her mom hadn't been wearing it when they took her away. The ring hadn't fit for months, but Ellie always insisted it be within sight of the bed. Santana scooped it up and shoved it into the pocket of her shorts.