Page 19 of Preacher Man
“You … intend to?” Hesitant voice turned weary. He smiled as he pushed himself to stand taller so he could kick his overalls off the rest of the way. Underneath he wore his wifebeater, ink decorating both arms, and his usual dark cargo pants. He switched the phone to his other ear to slip his wallet attached to the chain into his back pocket, then he took the walk to the other end of the shop to find her car keys. Lifting them to eye level, she had one of those pink furry pom-pom things dangling from the keychain.
“Yeah, babe. You’re not surprised, are you? I want to spend time with you.”
Cards on the table he braced for her to counter argue it.
Outside the shop, he walked the distance over to the clubhouse, finding who he was looking for playing pool in the main room, he clicked his finger, pointed for Tag to get his ass over here, silently telling him to follow him outside. “Didn’t we already have this conversation, Preacher man? I feel like we did. Don’t tell me, you have Dory-syndrome?”
“Who is Dory?”
She laughed and he swore the noise pulsed straight down his dick piercing. She had the sultriest voice he’d ever heard. A voice made for screaming during sex.
“Damn. Unschooled man. Finding Dory.”
“Still not with you, beautiful. But I will be in about twenty minutes. You can stay in bed if you like. In fact, yeah, you wait right there for me, hope it’s big enough, things could get shaky.” Behind him the prospect dared to fucking snicker, he turned a vicious glare that shut his trap real quick. “Hold up a minute, babe.” Turning to Tag, he tossed him his bike keys. “You follow me. And kid … I see one scratch on my baby-girl, you choke her throttle too hard, and I wring your neck, you get me?”
Hard blinking the younger man just nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing. “Sure thing, you got it, Preacher.” Glaring at him while another man straddled his hog, he slid into Ruby’s car, shutting the door affording some privacy so he could ask, his voice dropping an octave, with lust streaking his blood. “So, what are you wearing right now, baby?”
“A burka and those rubber boots horsey people wear.” She fired back barely with enough time to think of an answer. Damn, he laughed.
“That’s fucking sexy. It gives me something to work towards peeling off you, real slow. Heading off now, beautiful, be with you soon.”
“Preacher, wait, you never said how much I owe!”
“We’ll talk about that in a few.”
“Shit. Is it that much I have to brace myself? I might have to work out a payment plan, just so you know. I’m good for the money, I won’t leave RS with a bill, I swear.”
She could brace if she wanted, preferably against a counter while he got in good and tight behind her, his hands spanning her tiny hips so he could shove in and shove deep.
“Relax, beautiful, it’s next to nothing. We can talk about it.”
“But----”
“About to drive this tin can of yours with my knees shoved into my lungs.” She laughed and he smiled. “Stay in bed, Ruby.”
Oh, if only she would.
******
Ruby was the type of woman who could do a whole spring clean in under ten minutes if she knew someone was dropping by unexpectedly. She didn’t have the kind of friends who did that, mainly her socializing was done in bars, she’d missed out on the whole ‘coming over for coffee’ phenomena, she was kind of sad about that, but she’d kept to herself for so long it was hard to make friend connections, those she had were still on the peripheral of her life.
The moment she knew Preacher was coming to her apartment she launched herself out of bed, almost rolling on the floor in her haste she got tangled up in the white cotton sheet.
Dinner plates from the past two nights were still on the kitchen counter, take out menus next to that, and clothes everywhere in the living room because she hadn't had time to tidy things away lately. Shitshit, she scooped everything in one go, dishes tossed into the sink, no time to wash them, she froze in the middle of the room, surveying as a stranger would. Messy with junk. Her apartment was on the low rung for rent, she’d taken what she could, it didn’t even have a good working AC, now that was a killer in summer. Asshole landlord.
It was only when she was a sweaty mess from the fast hiding of things, she realized she didn’t have to let Preacher in at all, she could meet him outside.
Pulling on a pair of pink sweat pants with her white vans and a simple white t-shirt, she left her mess of hair around her shoulders, it wasn't as though she had a reason to look good, he was dropping her car off for frick sake, she wasn’t auditioning for miss world.
He pulled into the parking bay twenty minutes later, she was waiting outside by the curb, belatedly realizing she was without a bra when the cool end of May air hit her breasts, beading her nipples to hard points, or was that the reaction to seeing Preacher unfolding himself sexily out of her car? The man looked ridiculous, like a clown emerging from one of those mini cars.
And still, it had the power to deflate Ruby’s lungs. She folded her arms over her chest, masking her traitorous happy nipples, and tried to smile at him, she was grateful, she had to remember that before she barked his head off.
She didn’t know why her defense mechanisms kicked in harder with him than any other man.
Screw him and get it over with.
He pinned her with his gaze the entire walk over. She didn’t know what bothered her the most, that he wasn’t wearing a jacket and his arms were bare and full of tight muscle, or the smile he had on his face.
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