“Look! Blue lights!” Candace said.
Sure enough, they saw blue lights flashing from down the hall through the bedroom windows. Addy left them, then, and began to prowl around the apartment. She finished in the back bedroom and soon rejoined them as herself.
“I think we’re all clear, now,” Addy told them. “The two big guys are in handcuffs. I saw the police puttin’ them into the back of their cars. I’m guessin’ the driver and your father aren’t armed, on account of they’re not bein’ arrested.”
A few minutes later, they heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the back stair and the deep voices that told them it was the Saint men. Matt opened the front door with his key and flicked on the lights.
“Everybody okay in here?” he asked.
“Just fine,” Mel said stepping into his arms.
Meg followed her example, stepping into John’s arms and holding him close.
40
Adrenaline carried Meg back to John’s apartment, and she paced restlessly once they were inside. John moved to light the gas fireplace, though it wasn’t cold, then settled on the couch to watch her.
“Anything could have happened out there,” she said. Her hands were shaking and she clasped them together tightly at her waist.
“Not ‘anythin’, Meg.’”
She turned on him in exasperation.
“How can you just sit there after what my father threatened to do to you tonight? And what about tomorrow and the day after and next week? You have to know he’s not going to give up.”
“Actually, I don’t know that.” He leaned forward and reached out to pull her toward him. “He’s gotta know by now that you can’t be intimidated into comin’ back to him. And what’s he gonna do? Kidnap you? You’re no good to him, iffen you’re not playin’ that stupid violin that moron bought for you. And it’s not like he can make you play anythin’, is it?”
“He might be able to,” she said, reaching out to touch his face with trembling fingers, “if he threatens the people I care deeply about.”
John took both of her hands in his, squeezing them tightly. “You’re just gonna have to get used to the idea that we Saint men do everythin’ we need to do to protect our women folk. That’s the way it’s always been and always will be.”
Meg felt tears threaten and closed her eyes tightly. “And you Saint men need to get used to the idea that we women worry about you while you do.”
“That’s good to know,” he said, tugging on her hands until she came down into his lap.
He placed her hands on his shoulders then pushed her legs open until she was straddling him, her full skirt flowing around them both. She wore stockings with her black concert dress, and she felt heat as her thin panties rubbed against the hardness at the front of his trousers. He took her face between his palms and kissed her, his lips soft against hers, until after another moment, she changed the angle and bore down on him, deepening their kiss until he moaned with pleasure.
“Please love me,” she whispered against his mouth, when she finally came up for air. She rubbed herself against him and felt her dampness increase. “I have such a need for you.”
“Oh, darlin’,” he murmured against her ear as he nuzzled her there. “I need to love you like I need to breathe.”
She sat back then, staring into his deep golden eyes. “Then show me,” she whispered, reaching for the buttons on his shirt.
He’d taken off his tie in the car, but his dress shirt had tiny little buttons that threatened to defeat her as she fumbled with them with trembling fingers. Then he helped her finish the job and sat forward far enough to shrug out of his jacket and shirt, which she pulled away and tossed aside. His t-shirt followed, and she ran her hands through the fur on his chest before leaning forward and letting her lips trail her fingertips.
“You still have too many clothes on, darlin’,” he growled, and the next thing she knew, he had slid the zipper down the back of her dress.
The weight of the velveteen pulled the dress away from her shoulders, and he finished the job with quick fingers, baring her to the waist. The black lacy confection beneath was no challenge at all, and in another moment, he grasped both her bared breasts in his big hands, lifting them to suckle. Meg arched back on a soft cry, and she clung to his arms to keep from falling as she continued to rub herself against the now bulging front of his pants.
“Please, John!”
He chuckled. “We’ll get there.”
“Not soon enough!” she complained.
“We can start by getting’ the rest of this contraption off you,” he said, gathering up her skirt and pulling the whole dress over her head so he could toss it aside.
She now sat astride him in nothing but stockings, a garter belt, and lacy panties so insubstantial that he simply tore them away, leaving her bare and vulnerable.
“Now it’s my turn,” she said, as she ran her hands down his belly.