Saved (Honor Bound Book 1)

By: Angel Payne

Honor Bound Series: Book One

Chapter One


He had to have died at last, and somehow—God only knew how—ended up beyond the pearly gates.

Garrett Hawkins didn’t bother questioning the admission details beyond that. No sense in tempting Saint Peter, or whoever the fuck was standing watch today, into checking notes and realizing a mistake had been made. Wouldn’t do the guy any good. At this point, Garrett wasn’t past blowing the balls off anyone who told him he had to leave.

The deal was, heaven was nothing like the scene they’d taught him in summer Bible school. No sugar-spun clouds. No bad haircuts. Not a single angel with a half-tuned harp.

Heaven was silk sheets, his tongue on the inside of Sage Weston’s left thigh—and her sigh in response.

“Garrett! Damn it! Higher. Please…higher!”

He chuckled and sank a soft bite into her tawny flesh. “Is that any way to talk in heaven, sugar? Ssshhh. You’re gonna get us tossed out.”

He spoke the last of it as he crossed to her other thigh, making sure his mouth brushed over her glistening pussy in the process. Christ, how he wanted to stop there, and he thought about it as he watched new drops of arousal on her sweet pink folds, but there’d be time to return for all that sweet ambrosia and then some. In heaven, they finally had all the time they needed.

A shiver claimed the new skin that he began to suckle and lick. “Sergeant Hawkins, you’re making me insane!”

“I hope so.”

“Ohhhh! Bastard!”

“Mmmm. You taste like cream and honey.”


He sighed and laughed again. “So impatient. So greedy.” He trailed his lips toward her knee, inciting another protesting moan from the silk ribbons of her lips.

“Impatient? You’ve been teasing me like this forever!”

“And isn’t it fun?”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“I’m leaving.”

“No you aren’t.”

He was about to taunt the inside of her ankle when she really did yank it away from him. He raised his head in question, only to have the back of it bonked by her other foot as she swung that over the edge of the bed as well. “Sage! Hey!”

“Don’t pull petulant on me, Garrett Hawkins. I invented it, and I do it way better than you.”

He almost smiled. She’d been a ball of sass and fire since they’d met at that dive bar in Tacoma, and he loved her a little more every time she rekindled the attitude. It also helped him choose the next words out of his mouth, issued as a deep and heated growl.

“You’re not going anywhere, Ms. Weston.”

Her eyes widened, ablaze with bright peridot shock. She pushed out her chin and tacked on a smirk. “Is that so, Sergeant?” She stepped into a little white thong trimmed in sexy-as-hell pink lace and then tugged a white tank over the bra he hadn’t gotten the chance to get off yet. “Why don’t you watch me?”

He laughed, though the sound was made of anger, not mirth. Thanks to the countless sessions with Shrink Sally, as he’d affectionately come to call the poor woman assigned to “fix” him a year ago, he also recognized that the rage was directed at the guy in the mirror across the room, not the woman in front of him. That only tripled the resolve for his next action.

Without giving her any warning, Garrett hooked two fingers into the lace at her hip and pulled hard. The surge of her body returning to his side matched the rush of joy in his blood and the roar of arousal in his cock. This was where she belonged. This was so fucking right.

With a grunt, he twisted the panties tighter. The fabric gave way in his grip. It fell away, exposing her incredible golden hips. Sage gaped at him, though he took that from her too, ramming their lips together while he pulled her and flattened her to the bed again.

“I’ve got a better idea,” he growled, rolling his hips so she felt every pounding inch of his erection. “Why don’t you watch me, sugar?”

She did just that, jerking her brilliant green eyes wide as he jammed both her arms over her head and lashed them together using a bungee cord off his mission pack. For a second he wondered why his pack made it to heaven with him, but he was too grateful to question the issue for long. It was just as weird that her old bed had made it too, a wrought-iron thing he’d never liked much, thanks to its headboard full of fancy curlicues that tangled with each other like a damn tumbleweed. But right now he was really grateful for the thing. The two bungee hooks fit perfectly around a couple of whorls in the headboard.

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