His Sinner (Saint and Sinner Duet, #2)

by Harmony West

On the bed beside me is a tray covered with scrambled eggs, bacon, burnt toast coated in a thick layer of peanut butter, and waffles absolutely smothered in syrup. My perfect breakfast. Saint de Haas may be the most skilled stalker to walk the earth.

“Are you a witch?” He winks at me. “In the sense that I have a magic touch and a broomstick you can ride whenever you wish.”

“The fewer the clothes, the better. I fully intend on forcing you to walk around our home naked.” Our home. Like I already live here with him. Saint de Haas is the most presumptuous, delusional, alluring man I’ve ever met.

“I will give you everything you need.”

“I don’t give a fuck if the entire nation is standing outside that window watching us,” he growls. “They don’t exist. Nothing else exists right now except you and me. You’re my whole world now, muse, and I’m yours.”

She screams out for me, not for a god. She may be my muse, but I am her deity.

“Do you have a Peeping Tom neighbor or something?” “I don’t have neighbors. No one else lives on my mountain.” She snorts. “What do you mean your mountain?” “I mean, I own this mountain.” “You own a mountain?” “Yes, and once you marry me, so will you.” She scoffs. “I’ve already told you marriage is never happening. Not with you or anybody.” “Not with anybody,” I confirm. “But undoubtedly with me.”

“Or I suppose it could’ve been the groundskeeper. He’s usually not up here this time of year, let alone this time of night, but I always suspected he held certain . . . disturbing proclivities. I may or may not have based my necrophiliac protagonist on him.”

“I’m exhausted.” Her eyes narrow as she slips under the duvet. “And sore. So we’re just sleeping.” I slide in behind her, wrapping an arm around her to fondle one of those perfect tits. She groans softly. Her half-naked body molds perfectly against mine. I disappear under the blanket. “My tongue won’t make you sore.”

“I’m pretty sure they cut the power,” she whispers. “Really? I simply assumed you enjoyed dwelling in darkness.” She elbows me in the ribs. “Now isn’t the time for your sarcasm.” “There is no bad time for sarcasm.” “A funeral.” “You’re kidding. A funeral is the best time for sarcasm.”

I grab her face in both hands, her skin so soft and delicate and beautiful. In need of my protection. “This is my fault. I should’ve kept our home more secure. I should’ve installed a hundred cameras and locks when I knew I was bringing you here. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you. That will never happen again. I will never leave your side if it means I can keep you safe.” She scoffs, even though the tiny smile tells me my words bring her comfort. “You can’t be by my side twenty-four-seven.” “Watch me.”

He presses a heartbreakingly tender kiss against my lips. “I told you you can trust me. I’ll only ever let you fall for me.”

Briar is Warren Marshall’s daughter. Daughter of the man who murdered my mother. My heart has never pounded so hard in my life. Any second now, it’ll burst. Both of them turn as I slowly exit my car.

Her family ripped me apart, but she put me back together. A devious twist of fate.

Warren stands, nodding once. “Keep the ear. And be good to my daughter.” I flash him a grin. “I’ll be a saint.”

“It’s Professor, Mr. de Haas.” “Excuse me, Professor.” I lean down to murmur in her ear. “Shall I be punished for my insolence?” “As soon as I have the footage I need and I get you alone, you’re going to eat those words,” she whispers. I feign a pout. “That’s a shame. I was hoping to eat something else.”

“No. Even when death comes for me, I’m crawling from my grave to find you in the afterlife.” She can’t help the smile that tugs at her lips. “I’ve always wanted a man who would crawl to me.”

But I’ll allow her to keep that untainted memory of her brother if she gives me the information I need. “He said

You may not love me yet. Or, if you do, you may not be willing to admit it. But I promise you, I will gladly devote every day of my life to proving my worth to you. And even if I don’t hear those three words from your lips until I’m on my deathbed, I will die a happy man.”

I fist my hands in her hair. “Jesus Christ, Briar.” She clucks her tongue. “So impatient.” “I’ve created a monster.” “Not created,” she corrects. “Awoken.” I grin, but it slips away the second her palm cups my balls. I hiss through my teeth, thrusting them deeper into her hand. “Are you going to come for me?” she taunts. “For you. In you. On you.”

“Someone’s a little cocky.” Briar gently flicks the tip of my dick and I nearly shout. Fuck, if this is anything like the torture I put her through, I’m amazed she didn’t beg for mercy. “You think I’m going to allow you to come in and on me?” “I know I’m going to.” “I don’t know . . .” She trails a nail from my tip down the length of my shaft, over the throbbing vein until she reaches my balls. “I think a few quick pumps of my hand will have you coming all over your own stomach. Nowhere near me.” I smirk. “Who said anything about only coming once?” “I don’t think you’ll have any more cum to give after this one.” She cups my balls again, squeezing the tip of my cock with her other hand.

Pleasure builds to an excruciating point. “You can come,” she coos. “I won’t be disappointed.” Now she’ll have to deep-throat my cock if she wants a single drop of my cum.

I move up her body, shoving her tits together. She groans. “You said any position I desire,” I remind her. “Yeah, but a titty fuck?” “With tits this extraordinary, how can I possibly resist?”

finger motionless against her forbidden hole. “Do you trust me?”

“Fine. We can try it. But the second our safe word is out of my mouth, you better fucking stop or I’ll literally chop your dick off.”

She collapses onto the mattress, utterly spent, and she’s never been more beautiful. “Saint?” I brush a strand of hair from her lips while she stares up at me from her prone position on the mattress with those big blue eyes. “Yes, muse?” “I swear to god, if you break my fucking heart, I’ll break you.”

A tear slips down my cheek when I whisper the word to his reflection. “Grave

Whoever she is, this is the woman who has captivated Trevor’s mind. Briar just so happens to be the unlucky woman with the same shade of mahogany brown hair. A few clicks through the metadata on the recent photos tell me he hasn’t photographed this woman in two years. My heart slams against my ribcage hard enough to bruise. Trevor did something to this woman. And he intends to do the same to my muse.

“Briar, what the fuck?” I hold my hands up. No fucking clue what I did to deserve this. “You picked the wrong fucking woman to mess with, motherfucker!” When she swings at me again, I catch her wrist. “Mess with you? What are you talking about? What the hell’s going on?” “Don’t play stupid!” she screeches, cheeks flushed with fury. “You fucked someone!” “What are you talking about? When? Before I met you, yes.”

“That isn’t me.” Briar rolls her eyes dramatically, snatching the phone back. “Right. I’m supposed to believe April broke into your house with some random guy, he put your mask on, and they fucked in your office. All to send me a video.” My temper flares. “I’m telling you that’s exactly what happened.”

I’ll do anything she asks. Drop to my knees and beg. Write her a hundred books. Give her the keys to Nicholson Manor. Hand her all the proof of Trevor’s transgressions. Anything. Briar lifts her chin, blue eyes boring into me. “Let me kill you.” Silence falls between us. We stare at each other, unmoving. After everything I’ve done for her, everything I’ve made her feel, every sacrifice I’ve made, this is how she wants to write our ending. Not dying of old age in bed together, holding hands as our souls leave our bodies behind for the afterlife. But here, in this house. With a knife in her hand as she drags it across my throat.

She stiffens, edging back along the wall like she’s going to make a run for it as I head in her direction. “What the fuck are you doing?” Her voice shakes. When I reach her, I stop and hold out the handle. “I told you if you wanted to kill me, I’d hand you the knife.” With a shaking hand, she takes it, staring down at the glinting blade. If she kills me, it will be a merciful death. Because I can’t imagine living another day without her. A life without my muse isn’t one worth living. “You’re my everything. If I don’t have you, I’m nothing. I said I’d give you anything you want. If you want my blood on your hands, you can spill it. If you want the light to leave my eyes, you can extinguish it.”

I climb out of bed and continue packing. “I’m done listening to my heart.” Whatever’s left of it.

“Oh my god,” Mack whispers, hand covering her mouth. She’s ghostly pale.

“Oh my god,” Mack whispers again.

Mack is so pale, April’s eyes widen. “Is she going to faint?” I grab my best friend’s shoulders. “Mack, listen. Everything’s going to be okay. But I need to go to Nicholson Manor. I know Saint will be there. I need to warn him.”

Mack’s pale blue eyes are round when she murmurs, almost imperceptibly, “How do you know James?” April’s brows draw together. “Who’s James?” “Her ex,” I explain, more confused now than ever. “What do you mean, Mack? I’ve never met James.” She jabs at April’s phone, hand trembling. “That was James in the video.” “You mean Trevor?” April asks. “He’s the security guard on campus.” My heart pounds against my ribcage in the ensuing silence. Mack fights back tears. “That’s James. Trevor James Hobart. When I knew him, he went by James.”

Trevor is the ex Mack fled California to escape. The ex-cop she couldn’t report to the authorities because they refused to take action against one of their own. The ex who abused and terrified her so badly, she decided it was safest to disappear. The ex who stalked her. Who tried to kill her. James. Trevor James Hobart.

I need to do everything I can to stop him. Behind the wheel, I slam on the gas. “Let’s get this motherfucker.”

“You can choose to go with me or I can take you. Those are your options.” “The hell they are⁠—” “No.” Mack’s voice is hard as concrete, silencing both of us. “You can be in prison or dead, James. Those are your options.”

Rain soaks my clothes, my hair, my face. My arms shake violently as I pull myself out of the grave and flop onto my stomach. The words are hoarse from my dry, aching throat. “I’m coming for you, muse.” From my grave, I crawl to her.

A loud pop and he stops dead in his tracks. He clutches his side, and when he draws his hands back to examine them, they’re already crimson. “That’s for the first time you slapped me.” Another shot. Trevor’s knees hit the ground. “That’s for the first time you punched me.” My tears mix with the rain. Saint’s arms wrap around me, still strong despite everything he’s been through tonight. I flinch when another shot fires and Trevor screams. “That’s for the first time you threw me into the wall.” Pop. “That’s for the first time you choked me.” Pop. Pop. Pop. Blood pools in the grass around him, where he lies face down, motionless. “That’s for the last time.”

I put in my resignation. As much as I once loved the Auburn campus, the memories of Trevor and Dr. Barrett have tarnished it. Besides, Saint was right. I’ve been guarding my heart my entire life, refusing to go after what I love out of fear. I love books. So I’m going to become a literary agent—S.T. Nicholson’s literary agent—and get him the best fucking book deal he’s ever signed. His next book is going to blow up, and even if it doesn’t, he won’t care.

I flip to the dedication page and my heart stops. To my muse: I wrote all my books for you, even before I met you. But this one even more so than the rest. Because this is the book in which I ask you to love me forever. To be mine. To say yes. When I drag my eyes up from the page, vision blurry, he’s kneeling in front of me. A small box open in his hands and a giant smile across his perfect face.

Everyone cries through our vows, written for each other. Briar vows to love and cherish me. I vow to protect and adore her for all of my days. “Until death,” I vow. “And then, until I find you again in the afterlife.” Finally, my muse utters the sweetest words. “I do.”