Page 111 of Preacher Man

The movement stopped. He wondered if it was her, and if so, what was she doing awake at seven thirty? Didn’t dirty rotten thieves sleep late? He knew dirty rotten thieves had warm kisses.

But then hell was hot, no shock in a she-devil like her being the same way.

A shift and a creak of twigs from his left made him lower the binoculars, he watched an ornate tree lizard run on by, not bothered by the big dumb idiot camped out on the ground, he hopped over Grinder’s arm and carried on his journey. At least some fucker was having a grand day, he scowled.

What he’d give to prowl across the street, climb the two floors and kick open her motel room door and grab her by the giant brass lady-balls he knew she had.

Teach her the lesson of a lifetime.

Back in town, was she?

Grinder swallowed, a burn hot as hell in his gut, the burn climbing up his food pipe, he should have brought his Tums with him and returned his gaze to the lone window.

If she was in there, he’d know soon enough. He’d let Rider know he was MIA for the day, not sure how long this recon would last for, the fucking week if he had to, he’d even go so far as to venture into Apollo Kings MC territory to hunt her down. Their president, Jamie Steele, was a hardass, but even he couldn’t stop Grinder when he had a mind to do something. Just try and stop him.

He kept the satisfaction in. Soon enough. His sharp gaze returning up.

He held that same position, chest to the floor.

Oh, Luxe.He smiled to himself. A smile a snake would be proud of, as his heart sped up, his victory for another successful tracking roared to his surface, staying perfectly still, adrenaline poured through his veins like lava.

There she fucking was.

Stepping out of the motel room, dressed head to toe in skin tight black. Shades over her eyes, a bandana holding back the pour of black hair down her back.

The dirty rotten thief looked as sexy as she last had when she stuck her devil tongue down his throat, her hands all over his body.

And then fucking stole from him.

Right out from under Grinder’s nose.

Not to mention the one-eighty flip she’d turned on him with the sex. In layman's terms that dirty rotten thief had used the powerful persuasion of her amazing tits, he’d sucked on like a savage and brought her sweet nipples to hard points, to coerce Grinder into dropping his guard, taking what she wanted, namelynothis dick, and had flown off into the wind.

Almost a year he’d had that smarting under his skin.

The tracker got played.

And he was a fucking expert tracker at that. He left the technology to Lawless, preferring the old ways of using means and skills he was brought up with to hunt his marks. Paper trails could also follow a tracker if he used … less than legal ways and Grinder liked being under the radar for himself and his club. And at every turn over the last year, Luxe had evaded him.

Sneaky little bitch.

There she was. All five seven of her, high heeled boots clipping on the steps down from her room, a backpack caught over one shoulder, she strode to a dark gray Ford Lincoln MKZ, engaging the mechanical lock before she slid herself inside.Who did you steal from to afford that, baby?

His razor-sharp gaze disappeared behind the aviators he pulled from inside his jacket and pushed up his nose right as his cell vibrated.

“Yeah?” Was his usual way of answering.

“Rider said you were MIA. You got trouble, bro?” Asked Preacher.

Grinder rolled to his knees, now she was driving off he could come out from behind the fucking bushes, he swept off the dirt from his legs and chest, and cranked his aching neck from side to side, loosening up the tight muscles.

“Nah, all’s good.” He lied to his best buddy. Preacher knew some of the shit, namely that Luxe had knocked him back during the sex-prelude and he’d taken a mighty fucking ribbing for it, too. Dented his ego real nice, his brothers were jerks.

But the theft? That he’d kept under his beanie. Because he felt like a fool. “What you up to?”

“Just got to the club. You sure you don’t need a hand with something?”

“Positive, Preach. Look, I’ll catch up with you later, yeah, gonna grab some food before my belly thinks my throat has been cut.” He hung up.