Page 72 of Preacher Man

“You’ll what, Styles?” Interrupted a dark warning voice. The only voice that could make a shiver run the full length of Ruby’s spine as the hand attached to the man who had the dark voice palmed the back of her neck and then she felt the warmth of Preacher along the back of her.

This was what Preacher had meant, about claiming a woman in the eyes of an MC. His hand and mouth trailing against her neck were telling Styles Ruby wasno entryfor the flirting. She would have laughed and rolled her eyes, and maybe she still would when she was alone with him, but she wouldn’t do anything to make Preacher look foolish in front of members of the club.

She understood the club life and how it worked and how women were mostly treated like interchangeable property.Me Tarzan, you Jane, chest thump.

Maybe his hand and mouth felt nice on her, too. His scent was intoxicating no matter how many times she smelled him, it went right to her head. She was a sweaty pained mess when she stepped off his back and here Preacher was looking and smelling like a GQ model. She pressed her back into his chest and continued to pull around her straw, draining the cola until it gurgled empty at the bottom of the bottle.

“The babe is with you, Preach? Dammit.” Styles didn’t seem too irked by it, she thought, as he laughed and slapped palms with Preacher, doing the manly bro shoulder hug.

“The babe is. You ready to go, beautiful?”

“Yep.” She turned to Styles and smiled. “Looks like I’m getting an Uber instead of the bus.”

He laughed a rumbled noise. “Damn you, Preacher. You, lucky sonuvabitch. You fall in shit and come up smelling of roses, I swear.”

Whatever that meant. She placed her hand in Asher’s. Once outside she asked “Did you get everything done that you needed to? And please tell me you’re taking me to a bed. My butt needs to lie down so badly I might just fall right here on the ground.” She was muttering Hail Mary’s to whoever the patron Saint of beds was. Pastor Danny would have the answer to that, she could text him quick.

One of the things she liked about Preacher is how he towered over her, wide and strong, making her crane her neck back to look at his eyes. She was not a small woman by any means, but she felt dainty in his dwarfing shadow. He stopped her in the middle of the yard, that somber gaze of his searching her face when she thought he wasn’t going to reply he grasped her chin, turning her head towards him. “You were flirting with one of my brothers.”

Bus stops considered flirting nowadays? Who knew, she was so out of the social media news. Ruby rolled a shoulder, unfazed by his questioning, admitting it. “I was. I liked his rings, I was a second away from asking to try to them on when you interrupted.”

This was where a man usually threw one of those manly huffs. Though they were not in a relationship, it had something to do with that rule; my dick touched it so it’s mine. Arching a perfectly sculpted brow, ready to chew him a new ass if he even dared say something shitty like ‘you are mine and you don’t flirt blah blah’oh, yeah, Asher Priest, just you dare ------

“It fucking turned me on. I want to fuck you so bad, Rubes.”

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, my God.

Her insides, all treacly fell to her feet and died there having mini orgasms.

What a gorgeous freak of nature he was.

And it was in that very moment of watching Asher lick his bottom lip, sex in his eyes that she knew she’d met her dark match.

That man who could give her every fricking sexual fantasy she didn’t share with anyone.

He could give it to her.

Oh.

Shit.

And then. ... Then he did something that resurrected Ruby’s dead syrupy belly, making it spirit straight up to lodge in her throat. Instead of cranking his head down to kiss her as was the normal way, he put his hands under her armpits and lifted her clean off her feet, dangling her in mid-air, bringing her in effortlessly like she weighed less than a bag of vinegar chips, up to his face and pressed their lips together.

Chaste. Lovely.Claiming.

His kisses were always dynamite, setting off explosions in Ruby’s underwear, this one was no less lethal, only different, softer and he smiled while he did it.

Back on her feet she swayed a little ungraceful, put a hand up to her mouth. “God, I want to fuck that look on your face. C’mon, beautiful, let me finish shit here then we can get to the motel and you out of your clothes and onto my cock.” Hand in hand they headed towards the garage.

She knew one thing for sure when she paused walking, Preacher looked down at her quizzically. She touched his wrist, she couldn’t give him all the power now could she when she said. “I’ll take that fucking hard, Preacher man, when I come all over your face. But remember, I’m a cripple, you have to do all the work.”

Sex with a freak was just the balm she could hide behind. She wanted him to feast on her like he’s eating his last meal. If anyone can stop her feeling crappy it’s Preacher and the sex he gives.

“Goddamn, tiny dancer. Don’t get me hard when I’m about to walk into a shop full of dudes or I’ll take you right here.” That mouth of his.