18+ Only – Saint Dirty Face After Dark

The neon glow of O’Malley’s bled into the night behind us, traded for the quiet streets and the echo of Sarah’s laughter. She walked a step ahead, hips swaying like the rhythm of a song I couldn’t get out of my head.

Every so often she tossed a glance over her shoulder—just enough to remind me I was following, not leading.

That’s when I noticed it.

Dollar bills slipping from her back pocket, fluttering down onto the sidewalk one by one. Like breadcrumbs. Like a dare.

I bent to scoop them up, each one more ridiculous than the last. She didn’t stop. Didn’t even look back. Just let them fall and kept walking, her grin growing wider with every step.

By the time we reached her apartment building, I had a fistful of bills and a head full of questions I already knew the answers to.

She turned at the door, green eyes glinting under the hallway light. “Careful, Saint,” she teased, her voice low, velvet wrapped around a knife. “Some debts can’t be paid back with cash.”

The door opened. The air between us cracked.

Inside was another world.

Saint Dirty Face Closer

Some games aren’t about money. Some games start on the sidewalk and end heartbeat against heartbeat. And by then? Winning doesn’t matter.

Stay Dirty. Stay Wicked. – Saint Dirty Face