Page 107 of Preacher Man
Ruby felt her skin heat and her temper rise. What the fuck. What she did with who was her goddamn business.
"Now you know what it's like for us who fell for his charm." She giggled like they were sudden sorority sisters who had a secret handshake.
It was on the tip of Ruby's tongue to slice the puffy blonde-haired woman down and tell her if they were sharing stories Kendra was well ahead since at last count she'd fucked most of the bar already.
"It's not like that. He needed to talk to me."
"Sounded more like fucking and moaning, but what do I know..." an all-knowing grin covered her freckled face.
Now Ruby had the urge to punch her. One freckle at a time.
"Why don't you get back to work instead of gossiping about shit that's none of your concern."
"Just saying. You're not so different, you opened your legs just like we did. I mean, it's worth it, right? He's a fucking beast. But you'll see, he doesn't do repeat performances."
Is that why he's coming home with me? She wanted to gloat and thought better of it. Ruby was not that girl to fight over a man.
Whatever. Kendra might be right, she had just become a new number to Preacher, but she knew they were different, it might be the lingering sex haze talking, but she felt it between them. She wasn’t just a bathroom hook-up. Nah, she fucked in the breakroom like a classy lady.
It's funny really that Ruby never once suspected in all this time she was walking through life with the lights turned off. Until Preacher crashed and bullied his way in, turning her existence on its head, making her see in fluorescent intensity, breathing a soul into her. Damn the man showing her something diverse she hungered for that had nothing to do with family obligation and all to do with her own wants.
His eyes were magnetic. An irresistible force compelled Ruby to look over towards the Renegade Souls gathering time and again that night. All the large men sprawled around two tables as they usually did. The table littered with drinks and baskets of chicken but it was Preacher who caught and held her gaze. A small smile playing on his full lips surrounded by clipped hair and his famous beard drawn down into a point giving him a roguish expression, challenging her to come to him? Scowl? Say something? She was too churned up inside to do anything to answer his stare. He winked and she swore her belly muscles clenched, still feeling him stretching her inside.
His eyes held. Daring her to look away from him.
All around her the bar was busy, people living there lives while she was transfixed in a pair of eyes, people waiting for her attention. Only Preacher had it.
Connection.
It was there. Right there. Stealing her breath.
Funny how an outlaw showed her how to feel alive.
I’m staying the night, Ruby.
She hadn’t even protested.
Not one word.
Embarrassing how quickly she’d nodded and told him okay.
Because I want him in my home, in my bed.
Breaking eye contact, she got back to working. Feeling him between her legs with every step. And when he stepped up to the bar an hour later, after many trips from his boys, he smiled, ordered a repeat of their drinks.
“You look stunning.”
“Thank you.”
“Aren’t you gonna say I look handsome?” He grinned.
Ruby laughed, pouring the drinks he wanted. Starting with his bourbon. “You’re a dirty biker. It’s the best I can do.”
Preacher gave her the most devastating smile as if that compliment was better than any other she could give him. She felt it in her abdomen, flushing heat right into her heart.
“Thanks, beautiful. Take one for yourself,” he said handing over a fifty. Their fingers brushed as she gave him the change. Electricity charged.
He knew how he affected her when he smirked, his hands full he gave her one lingering glance before walking back to his table.
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