CHAPTER TWELVE

“There’s no way she’s getting out of here without me fucking her. Even if I have to offer my dick on a platter and say please.” – Preacher

 

 

 

A full-fucking cleavage on display and Preacher was done for. She was here.

It was so fucking on. He was a shark sensing blood watching her walk through the double doors like a runway model, all hips swinging and head held high. His brain told his dick to stand down, that throbbing shaft was taking over this mission and wasn't about listening to anyone. His brain listened as his mouth dried. Her tits… holy fucking fuck. Perfection. No overspill. Just nicely perched on her chest and accentuated by the tight thin cotton shirt with the deep slash in the middle letting the girls see him.

Oh yeah. My mouth is ready, babies, come to Preacher. He wanted total suffocation in those beauties.

Her nipples would be little caramel disks, he’d bet his right nut on it.

She’d left her hair down, swaying around her shoulders, poker straight tonight instead of her usual curls, it moved with the motion of her hips, hypnotizing him like the biggest perverted bastard walking ready to do her bidding whatever filthy thing that might be, he was in.

It didn’t need it, but he watched her fluff her hair. Little attention seeking minx. She had it. Oh, she had it. Preacher ate her up like he was gonna be punished if he didn’t finish what was on his plate. How he didn’t push her down and do her like a nasty dog right there he didn’t know. The urge was strong. So, fucking strong. He could barely think through the desire to eat her fucking alive.

He didn’t have a choice but to trail his gaze up and down and back again, stopping at all his favorite parts for a repeat stroke of his eyes, he really licked his eyes over her, it was the only thing to do. It felt as if he’d waited right in this spot for her for months, which was a ridiculous notion because until recently he hadn’t made any serious play for her, and here he waited to watch her come to him, with his mouth sand and his zipper tighter by the second.

It was when he got a view of the back of her his mouth flooded with water. Fucking hell. Her shirt was completely backless tied low on her waist showing him the most perfect side-boob he’d ever seen.

Those tits had to be his.

Fucks sake. As much as he was eye fucking her, so were a few of his club brothers.

Shitheads were just begging for a fight. Like really, he loved those assholes, but he’d lay them the hell out if they didn’t stop eye-boning Ruby. Some even whistled and called out lewdly with the sway of her glorious hips. I will rip your goddamn beard off and feed you it, assholes.  He got his body to moving before one of the knuckleheads thought it wise to go and chat her up. He’d hate to punch someone he cared about.

He was seconds away from screwing her right there on the floor and while it was a regular occurrence for some, he didn't want to share her. Patience, he warned himself swallowing hard.

It took her a fucking week to walk over to him. In the meantime, he was a one-track mind; her, him, his bed and discovering how wet he could make her without dehydration setting in.

Ruby wasn’t a tiny woman, he’d been with small woman before, it was like banging a doll, he was always afraid of crushing them, she was tall by nature's standards, five seven in heels maybe, but even then, her forehead still only came to upper chest.

We’d be the same height if I banged her doggy style while I yanked on her hair. Oh, baby, yeah.

A waft of vanilla poured through him when she neared, above the smell of pot and booze and the general air of the club, he got stung by vanilla, the fragrance so clean and subtle, nothing overpowering, it made his cock throb inside his zipper.

Oh, hell, her chest was incredible, pert and standing up all happy and gorgeous, he was ten deep into fucking her tits fantasies and the good girl would take it, wouldn’t she? Oh yeah. It was her face that entranced him. Stunning.

Obsession was an ugly filthy fucking word.  

He’d kept her very much in the elusive category. Sure, he knew right away she was a knockout and he liked her bitchy attitude, but he’d never even tried to come on to her.

He’d known.

He’d goddamn well known why.

Now he was taking her out of that box and obsession was exploding like confetti. He was so screwed.

Ready to play with. Ready to discover how amazing elusive would taste on his tongue, down his throat, soaking him in all her gorgeous snark.

It wasn’t true what his brothers said about him. Preacher knew how to have relationships, they’d only seen him with his fast hook-ups, couldn’t blame them for their assumptions, he just hadn’t wanted anything more than that, didn’t feel the pull, he let his dick steer the ship and just fuck when he wanted.

One night, or two. He wanted them with Ruby. He could break all his own rules for that one night of what he knew was going to be phenomenal sex.

Standing right behind her, a towering figure that was thinking mostly with his cock and what was wrong with that? He brushed her ear with his mouth, felt her shiver, enjoyed it. “You look absolutely stunning, baby.”

 

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

 

Those Renegade Souls men liked to party hardcore.

She was enveloped in sensation.

It wasn’t her first biker gathering, nor was Ruby lacking in confidence when she garnered speculative hungry looks she easily passed over as her eyes searched out the party. She walked tall through the crowd, the sound system playing some old-school tracks she approved of, she liked anything but heavy metal, there was no point to music, in her opinion, if it was screeching loud enough to rupture her spleen from its vibrations.

Smelling weed in the air, she wondered if that was the only drug these men liked to dabble in, from town talk Rider ran a tight ship and didn’t allow anything stronger. The man himself was over by the bar, laughing at something his woman was saying curled into his ribs. She watched them for a minute, fixated on their intense body language, again hit with how much Zara looked out of place and yet right at home at the same time in her maxi dress and ankle sandals, she was gorgeous with it. No one tried to paw her, in fact, several of those bikers stopped to chat and seemed as enamored by the blonde as Rider did.

Moving on, keeping her feet going, her objective; Get Preacher out of her system. It was the only course of action because until she did she’d always wonder, the lust building inside her making her crazy and she didn’t have time to go crazy.

Then she spotted him.

His stare was heat and sex. She caught a very female frisson of warmth coming through the crowd from him that pooled between her legs, knowing he liked what he saw made it all the hotter. Her spine softened.

She hated he affected her ovaries in the fast-flushed way that he did. It was nothing steady. Crazy traitorous glands barking like an excited puppy. If she didn't keep herself in check she'd roll over and beg for belly rubs. Only not on her belly, much, much lower down, the place that was currently wet and slippery. The intensity of his gaze sharpened almost as if he could guess her thoughts but that was impossible thank god, her dirty hormones were still a secret.

He smiled that wicked smile, the half cock of one side of his mouth framed by all the facial hair clipped closely to his chiseled jawline.

Ruby couldn’t say she’d ever been attracted to perfection before. She liked flaws in people, to see their realness, she saw his flaws and her body purred. His giant manwhorish status for obvious starters should have been her stop sign.  All too aware she was putting herself on his buffet table of flaws and asking him to eat his fill until he was full.

And her attraction intensified.

He leaned down, his rough cheek brushed hers, prickling in a way that made her shiver from the close contact. It was instinct to want to move back, to break that touch, only his hand rested lightly on her waist. His voice silk and rough.  "I'm glad you came, tiny dancer."

He called her stunning and she preened internally, grasping onto his compliment with both greedy hands. Her shoulder rolled up nonchalantly even as she leaned in to drink in his masculine cologne. “I like free beer.” Ruby knew all these men and yet knew none of them. Exchanging vague conversations in the bar while she served did not a real connection make. She was in a room full of recognizable strangers.

The same could be said for Preacher. Besides knowing he was a phenomenal kisser, her body didn’t about details, only that she wanted to climb him. Wanted him more than she'd ever wanted a man before. That emotion was real.  

He helped maneuver them through the crowd, using his giant bulk and an outstretched arm to shove the crowd out of the way. How gentlemanly, she thought, a smile curving her lips. Once in a corner over by a table of coolers stuffed to the brim with unopened bottles of every beer she could think of he pulled out two, wiped down the bottle and cracked the lid, handing it to her.

“Catch the manners on you, Preacher. What happened to the filthy biker persona?” the cold beer felt nice slipping down her parched throat. His cologne surrounded her, sending shock waves of desire through her brain. So, damn sexy.

His barrel laugh reached into her belly, tickled her low. “What does that even mean, should I spit on the floor? My ma raised me with manners, beautiful, she’d skin me alive and put my innards out for the crows if she thought I was mistreating a woman and not opening doors. She’s big on door opening.”

“But doesn’t mind so much her son screwing around like a rabbit on Viagra?”

“Well,” he smirked dirtily, downright filthy.  “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her soft heart now will it?”

Damn, she melted. Mama’s boy. Big and manly mama’s boy.

Damn. Double all those fucking damns. She was screwed.

“You don’t seem fazed by the shit going on.” Motioning to the crowd. She let her eyes wander. What was a little public display of foreplay between strangers? Ruby’s brow arched as she smiled a little, bringing the bottle to her mouth.

“I’ve been to biker parties before.” Without elaborating.

“Why have you never been to one of ours?”

“I was never invited.”

“Damn. That was an oversight I need to punch someone for. Consider yourself invited for the rest of forever, tiny dancer.”

Her snort got lost in the music, eyes flicking up to find his trained intently on her, that smile of his could set forest fires and what was it about his pointy little beard that made her fingers just want to yank it down to reach his mouth quicker.

“You don’t have to keep calling me that.”

“I like it.”

“Or keeping me company if you’d rather go … join the gang.” She used her bottle to point to what looked like the start of a mini orgy with two women and a faceless guy she couldn’t see because his head was buried in a set of boobs.”

“Babe.” That one word felt like an intimacy rushing over her skin. He followed it up by dipping his head, his voice carried directly to her ear as his hand found her waist, touching the piece of skin there to cause a shiver to roll through her.

Yep, she was getting him out of her system tonight. She gulped a little more beer.

“I asked you here. I want you here, Ruby. I want you here for me, not gonna go join the fucking rabble and leave you. You getting me on this?”

“Mmhm.” Green eyes so hypnotic framed by black lashes fastened her. They were so close she could count the tiny white scars along his cheek and neck. So, close that if she went up on her tiptoes her lips would smash against his.

All in good time, Ruby.

Let’s see what wooing game the outlaw has.

Already attracted to him, god help her for that mistake, but she wanted to see how he went about getting into her pants. Would it arouse further or switch her off? As of right now, she didn’t know which outcome she wanted more, only that Preacher had occupied too much of her brain the last few days.

Quick sex and then it would be done and over with.

“And so here I am for you, as requested. What will you do with me now, Preacher man?”

A great rattle growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating against her arm and right as he dipped deeper ready to crush her lips she smiled and backed up, pushed her empty bottle in his chest. “Hold that thought, this is my jam,” she had no fucking idea what the song was as she backed up away from him.  “I’m going to dance.” It wouldn’t hurt him to wait. Ruby was no pushover when it came to sex. Her mind for a second took her back to that cabin, her belly recoiling before she shut it down, not now.

Preacher would learn she was not one of his bar bunnies to stop drop and open when he fancied a fuck. If he wanted it, he could work for it.

And from the dirty smirk on his face as he watched her in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, bodies smashed together, swaying her hips, lifting her arms in the air, he fully intended to work for it.

For the five minutes the song played --- something by Prince, she guessed from the unique high pitch voice --- Preacher’s eyes never left her, or her his. Teasing. Enticing. Dancing only for him. Presenting her back, glancing slyly over her shoulder, seeing how his eyes strayed to her butt. The depth of his green eyes growing darker.

Oh, god, how that little electric pulse charged her.

The simple act of dancing in public with the sole purpose of attracting a sex partner, to tease him out of his denim jeans as he waited with his back pressed to the wall thick forearms crossed over each other, it felt dirty, inhibitions were forgotten.

Wanton.

Delicious.

She almost felt like the old Ruby. Life’s problems gone.

When the song finished, she was breathing heavily, winded by desire in her blood, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone out dancing, too long, she surmised, stupid life responsibilities taking the forefront of everything, making her way back to Preacher, she was waylaid by a hand around her wrist. “That was sexy as fuck, baby-doll.”

Preacher was too big not to notice how he shoved himself off the wall to make his way over. She held out her hand to him. She was not in need of rescuing with this cute little boy. She smiled at cute and blonde, he was no more than twenty if that. And shot him down with a grin and... “Aw. Thanks, kid.”

He groaned and turned red, skulking off into the crowd.

Kids today. She was nearly thirty and wasn’t requiring a toy boy who didn’t know how to properly use his penis.  She wanted a man. A rough man.

“What did you do to crush Mick’s spirit?” His voice amused. Ruby took his beer and drank directly from the lip of the bottle he had, telling herself she could taste the dark masculinity of him.  

“Nothing much just called him a kid.”

Preacher laughed lightly. “Ouch.” he didn’t look like he cared she’d burned the boy down, not with him watching her mouth move. She wanted to shape every letter of the alphabet so he didn’t look away. Taking one last drink of beer, she set it down, no need to have her mind foggy for this. Ruby was not an aggressor, nor was she a timid flower waiting for the man to make a move. She had a certain set of rules for who she slept with, and Preacher was checking off most of them, some were still to be determined but all in good time, for now, she slipped her body up against his, felt him stiffen, and his lids dropped to half-mast covering most of the bright emerald shining down at her, his arm snaked around her waist, drawing her in ever closer, fingers shaping her ass.

“Yo, Preach. We have a game going on----” someone from behind her called out.

“Fuck off.” The command carried to whoever it was who dare interrupt their eye fucking, but his gaze never wavered

“I think we’ve mentally flirted enough, Preacher man. Are you going to kiss me soon or should I if you’re a shy little thing?”

One leap of her chaotic pulse as fingers cupped her chin, turning her face up and without even waiting a second for her to draw breath he dove and dove deep, forcing her lips open, not that it was a chore, she was already halfway there and licking into his mouth like a hungry kitty, he swallowed her groan, gave her a sexy grunt of his own.

Their mouths wet. One breathed out, the other breathed that same air in.

“Goddamn, babe. You’re so hot for me, aren’t you? I can smell the steam coming off you.”

“Tonight.” Her breath hitched looking him straight in the air. “Just for tonight,” she told him to make it clear between them, and for herself. This was only tonight, she couldn’t have anymore because she suspected any more of Preacher and it would leave her … craving.

If she thought their first kiss had been incredible, then this fresh wet one turned it on its head and made a mockery of that first kiss by being the best damn kiss of her life.  

Ruby melted against him.

Bones disappearing, consumed in his kiss, veins exploding blood in a rush of excitement, when Preacher opened his mouth wider he took possession of her, bending her spine with a touch of his fingers, she was fluid, the rugged scent of him filling her to capacity, his lips moving this way and that way, taking everything she had.

His tongue invading like it was meant to be there all this time and Ruby had not known.

Now she did.

Oh, yeah now she did, because she became a little mindless in that lack of oxygen way as he kissed her madly, grunting when she tried to catch a little air he only deepened, delving his tongue across hers and oh his taste... so good. All manly man with a stroke of bourbon as an afternote. Her brain flooded with sex. Thoughts of sex. Want of sex. Needing sex now.

Her clothes seemed to shrink around her, either that or she was having a blood aneurysm.

"Come with me, beautiful." He husked in the form of a question that wasn’t a question, grabbing her hand and because Ruby was lightheaded she followed behind as he pulled her through bodies into a hallway.

"Wait." She tugged her hand free. What the hell was she doing? Is this what she truly wanted? Give me a minute to think. No one was taking any notice of them, too intent on their own enjoyment.

Was she going to do this?

And with Preacher of all men. "Wait," she repeated.

His lips were on hers again, eating at her mouth, sending her dizzy, his hand cupping the full left side of her face, pressing deeply forcing her mouth open, she moaned, grabbed onto his shirt. his kiss proving, she didn't need to think.

"You want this, Ruby. Go with it, we can both have what we want."

Her body spurted so much adrenaline it was a wonder she could keep standing upright.

This was it. Make or break time and for once in her life she chose the selfish door, taking something just for herself even when she knew it was the very baddest thing she should be doing right then especially with a man like Preacher.

She did it anyway. Compelled to, because it was a man like Preacher.

Preacher who had her feeling everything all at once, pounding her system, flooding it. Her expression gave her away, of just how much she wanted him.

By tipping up her head and catching his lips in a dark heated kiss pushing her tongue into his mouth.

She let him drag her the rest of the way wherever he was taking her, stopping every few seconds to kiss, that wicked tongue fucking her mouth in a prelude of what was to come.

"Fuck. You taste incredible," he groaned, sucking her lip.

He tasted like sin.

"Can you make me come, Preacher man?"

He went stiff all over, rearing his head up to stare down. She giggled. A tiny bit tipsy. "Can you? Because I need some guarantees here, I want orgasms, a lot of them, I need them badly, you don't even know, and if you're a two-pump chump then you might as well march back out there and grab one of those sugar bottoms to stick it to. I need it good and I need it right."

"Babe," he sounded stunned, a tick working his thick jaw only served to make his face look more chiseled. Fricking god’s angels made him well, she thought.

"Well? Orgasms, how do we stand on that? I’m going to need an answer. Micro penises need not apply."

Pushed back to a wall so fast the air evaporated on her tongue, just as well since he began sucking hard on it drawing it heavily into his own mouth with the kind of French kissing you get in porn movies, not the pizza boy porn, but the businessman and his horny secretary.

it was hot as hell.

She moaned and grabbed onto his hair until she felt the buttons pop on her skinny jeans a large meaty hand slid right on in and down, past her panties, bypassing the material like it didn't even exist he tugged them aside and stroked her outer labia, checking how shamefully wet her folds were.

Oh, good god.

His kisses were fire and just a little bit nasty.

Shameless, she pushed into those seeking fingers.

The stroking down below took her to another dimension, seriously, she had only been half joking when she'd asked him about the orgasms, she'd seen plenty of satisfied faces stagger out of the bathroom at work to know this man knew how to fuck and to satisfy but there he was with his large hand down her panties in a public hallway grinding his palm to her mound causing tiny flickers of pleasure to ignite in her lower abdomen.

"I think I'm getting the message, Preacher." Was that her panting?

“Good. ‘cause I have a piercing you’re gonna love feeling grinding into you.”

Unable to speak, what with the tongue in her mouth and then he did something...he didn't zero in on her clit as any man would, because that was the magic button, the mothership of heat, the pleasure source itself, the vagina epicenter, he didn't finger fuck her which she would have welcomed because she was wound tight and wanted a hard fuck, a dirty fuck, even a finger fuck, he didn't pet her, no…he began circling his finger right below her clit, she didn't even know a place existed but he stroked and rubbed and a tightening began to happen in her pussy, a true clench, her belly rippled like she was realizing she had muscles in there behind her food sac.   

She tilted her pelvis. Seeking. The orgasm rising through her nerve endings, cresting out to all corners, a tsunami of long overdue sensation.

Sweet god, I’m in a hallway about to come harder than … ever before. Dizzying minutes passed by.

"Do you want me?"

      Silence sat like a fat overfed cat between them. How to answer it without showing just what true raw effect he held over her. She wanted him more than she should. Walk away, her conscience spoke, open your legs, her vagina overruled. Stupid, greedy vagina.

Ruby didn't like to feel vulnerable, she'd be putting herself out there first, without knowing just how he felt.

     "You can say it, beautiful. I'll give you anything you want."

     One. Two. Three. Her chest rose and fell, he smiled and waited. "Yes."

     "Good." That was it. So, simple. "I want you, too."

"Good." Ruby repeated lamely because she hadn't thought confessing it would be so ... easy and uncomplicated. The matter of a few words and it was done, out there for him to judge or refuse and he hadn't.

Ground to a halt against his mouth, she let him carry on kissing her, pushing her mouth open and licking inside all her body's blood rushed between her thighs as she came so hard so fast her back wanted to break, she bucked fiercely, only he didn’t allow her much movement, his free hand held against her belly, pinning her place to take it, it felt as though every muscle was orgasming at the same time, it didn’t just wave through her, it tackled from behind and rendered her useless for a long minute.

Oh, fuck yes, yes.

It was exquisite, she clung to the front of his shirt crying into his shoulder, harsh groans while the seizure took her.

It wasn’t only coming. She came apart.

When it was over, and she realized she was still alive, she sagged against the wall, eyes closed, mouth open, panting. She needed air. God, where was all the air?

Preacher’s hand removed slowly and for one second she was sure she heard him licking his fingers, her eyes pinged open, a smirk on his face. "I think those drenched panties can be your answer, Ruby." A smile took his face from appealing to downright devilish.

“Yeah. Yeah, they can. God. I need a minute before ----” Kisses robbed her of breath again, the man had just shaken her foundations, her pussy still on lockdown in a series of clenches and he wanted to explore how far he could push her lung capacity for needing the good oxygen. Her hand rubbed his massive chest, heard his smug chuckle. She was going to go to work tomorrow and tell all those waitresses. I get it. I so fucking get it now.

“That’ll do, pig,” she smiled in an orgasm haze. Eyes felt glazed over. “That’ll do.”

“Did you just call me a pig?”

“Mmhm. Check your movie history, Preacher man, how old are you anyway? It’s a classic. I was praising you.”

Even his laugh turned her to liquid smoke ready to ignite.

It was a chemical reaction between them. A match and gasoline.

And this night was far from over.