“How long?” I demanded gruffly, stepping closer. She looked up at me with startled golden eyes. I could fall into those eyes and never come out again. I resisted the urge to throw her on the folding table and have my way with her in front of everyone. I had to believe that God would understand. A man could only take so much.
“Since high school. Junior year.”
“So you were what? Sixteen?”
She nodded, looking fragile and uncomfortable. Like a wounded deer. I felt a sudden rush of understanding. Someone had hurt her. And I had someone fresh to kill.
“Who was he?” I growled.
Her eyes got wide.
“Who?” she asked, avoiding my gaze. Fury rose up inside me. No wonder she was such a frightened bird. But she knew damn well what I was asking and she was going to tell me. Right fucking now.
“I need the name of the man who hurt you.”
Her eyes got as big as saucers. I saw shock there. And maybe a hint of relief. She wasn’t used to people looking under the surface. And I wasn’t just doing that.
I was already under the hood, tinkering with her engine.
“He was just a boy,” she said softly. “He didn’t . . . he didn’t hurt me physically. Just my heart.”
I closed my eyes briefly in relief. I still wanted to kill the little shit, but if he had laid hands on her, I would have gone nuclear. She would tell me who he was. But I decided I could wait until we weren’t surrounded by people. Until I could kiss and hold her after she told me the truth.
“We need a lock for this gate,” she said, changing the subject. “To keep people from coming in at night."
I glanced at the chain link fence at the front of the lot. We had plans to decorate the fence as well. It was going to be something else, if it all came together.
“Leave it open. Give the kids somewhere relatively safe to hang out.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“Should we be encouraging that?”
“They’re going to do it anyway. Why not here?”
“What about the produce?”
“If they need it that badly, let them have it. I say we put up a sign saying the produce is free and put out a box every day of what’s ripe.”
“That’s a good idea, Preacher,” she admitted shyly, still avoiding eye contact.
She sighed and nodded, rubbing her hand over the back of her neck. Her thick, wavy dark hair was in a ponytail today, making her look even younger than usual.
If she hadn’t dated since the age of sixteen, then she knew next to nothing about men. Unless she was younger than I thought. I probably should have asked that before I’d started mauling her like a sex-crazed bear.
“How old are you, Cynthia?” I asked, suddenly afraid of the answer.
“Twenty-two.”
I cursed under my breath. She was legal but still too damn young for me. By a long shot. But I couldn’t stay away from her. I kept trying and failing. Maybe when Paul came back. Maybe if I moved far away. It would have to be farther than California or Mexico, though.
It would take an ocean to keep me from turning up at her doorstep.
And even then, I was pretty sure I would find a way.
“We will have words. Soon,” I promised. “When there’s no one else around.”
She looked at me nervously, her gorgeous lips parting. I stared at the shiny plump pink of her bottom lip. Did she think I just wanted a kiss? She really was innocent if she believed that.
I wanted inside those thighs. I wanted her wrestling in my bed till dawn. And I wanted it every night.
For-fucking-ever.
I wanted her for real.
And so help me God, I was going to get her.
Chapter Fourteen
Cynthia
The sky was just starting to darken as the last of the volunteers headed home. We’d cleared the lot but there was so much left to do. Thankfully, there was a core group of ladies who were going to come back every day and tend the plants, the unofficial garden crew spearheaded by Aunt Julia. Clarice and I had promised to help as well. And Preacher had promised to build some furniture for the sitting areas.
The thought of Preacher working with his hands like that was strangely appealing. He wasn’t afraid of hard work, that much was obvious. And he’d already started laying out some plans for the garden using the bricks we had salvaged to mark what would be a wall separating a space for chairs and tables from the raised beds.
I had been trying to avoid watching him put all those bulging muscles of his to good use. It was hard not to stare. The truth was, it was hard not to drool.
His craggy, handsome face was starting to grow on me. And his extremely virile body was impossible to ignore. He was fitter than a man half his age, fit and strong and well put together, looking like a rock star in his leather and denim. Never mind his piercing blue eyes or the unholy way the man kissed.
Preacher was definitely not chaste. And he wanted to be not chaste with me.
The knowledge made me feel hot and cold all over. Mostly hot. Especially when he was giving me sultry looks full of promise every time I turned around.
I’d caught the man staring at my neck. The curve of my back. My legs . . . and higher. Pretty much every part of me.
And yet, I didn’t feel uncomfortable. Maybe just uncomfortably warm.
The barbecue was rolled out through the gate in the fence, leaving just the two of us standing there in the twilight. Again. I should have tried to leave with the crowd, but I’d dragged my feet. I knew there was a reckoning coming. I would just have to tell him I didn’t date. That it didn’t matter why. That he could never, ever kiss me again.
Liar. You want him to kiss you.
I wanted more than that, too, if the throbbing between my thighs was any indication.
“I’ll walk you home. Unless you want to get something to eat.”
I shook my head. The church had paid for some basic barbecue supplies, but the neighbors had made the event into a full-blown cookout. Macaroni salad, watermelons, and even some home-grown tomatoes from Aunt Julia’s rooftop garden.
As far as I knew, Aunt Julia was nobody’s aunt, but people had been calling her that forever.
“I’m stuffed,” I said, rubbing my tummy. His eyes followed my hand. I watched as the bright blue darkened. He tore his eyes away from my body and stared at my face.
“Your nose is sunburned,” he observed. “It makes you look even younger than usual.”
I rubbed my nose.
“I don’t usually burn.”
“Well, it’s medium-rare, not well-done,” he joked.
“I’ll have freckles by tomorrow,” I said nonsensically. I looked around and grabbed my backpack. “I guess we aren’t locking the gate.”
He nodded, staring at me intently. When we left, he didn’t turn toward the church but followed me down the block to the corner.
“It’s not even dark out. I don’t need an escort.”
“We need to talk,” he said in a gravelly, hot voice that promised a lot more than words. I sighed and nodded, not saying much on the walk back to my house. Preacher was quiet too. I had a feeling we were both thinking about the same thing.
I paused outside my building and looked at him.
“I’m coming up,” he said flatly. I nodded, resigned. I felt like I was in a stupor, drugged from the warmth of the day and the hot looks he’d been throwing my way all day. I opened the door, and he caught it, holding it open for both of us to go inside.
He followed me up the stairs. I could feel his eyes on me. I could feel his intentions.
I opened the door to my apartment and turned back to look at him.
“This isn’t a good idea, Preacher,” I said, knowing it wouldn’t make one bit of difference.
“No,” he said, stepping in and closing the door behind him. He stared at me as he threw the lock. “It isn’t.”
And then he was on me, his big hands lifting me and pressing me again
st the wall. I whimpered as his tongue swept into my mouth, seeking and stroking and plunging in and out in a way that made my nipples harden and my hips want to move. He grabbed my hips and encouraged it.
“That’s it, hellcat,” he growled, lifting my thigh and holding my leg to his waist. “Give me your tits.”
I arched my back as he shoved my T-shirt up and pulled my bra down. He cursed when he saw my bare tits, his hot mouth swooping down to suck on one aching nipple and then the other. I was like an animal. He was like an animal. A much bigger one.
His big, rough hands held my ass in place so that he could grind his thick, hard cock into me. I whimpered, realizing I was on the brink of losing my virginity to a man I barely knew, who was almost thirty years older than me, against a wall. It felt so good, though. I could not believe how good it felt.
“Stop,” I said weakly, not really even sure if that was what I wanted. “Please.”
He lifted his head, his hands still palming my ass, his cock still pushing insistently between my thighs.
He growled, pushing himself even harder into me. I realized my pussy was drenched. I’d never been this wet in my life. Not even close.
I wondered if he could feel it through his jeans and my shorts. Feel how eager I was for him.
“What’s wrong, hellcat?”
I whimpered as his chest brushed my hard nipples. He was still covered. I was not. He pressed a quick kiss to my lips, as if he couldn’t help himself. He grunted in pleasure as he reached up with one hand to lazily toy with my nipple. He pinched it, tugging gently and rubbing his callused thumb over the hard nub. I realized I wanted him to do that between my legs.
I wanted it more than anything.
Oh, God . . .
“I’m . . .” I trailed off, embarrassed by my inexperience and the way my body was responding.
“Wet and ready for me?” He smiled slowly. “I know.”
I whimpered as he continued calmly plucking my nipple, his hips slowly starting to grind against my juncture again.
“Hmm . . .” I exhaled, trying to get the words out. “A virgin.”
That got his attention.
Preacher stared down at me, frozen in place.
“No one has ever touched you before?”
I shook my head, cringing in embarrassment. I was half naked and dripping for him. And he held all the cards. He had all the knowledge.
“All this is new?”
“Most . . . oh, God,” I gasped as his fingers started working my nipple again. “Mostly.”
He groaned.
“The Lord has sent you to test me, hellcat. Of that I am certain.” He started smiling then, a wicked look lighting up his face. “I’m proud to be your first. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of you,” he added, his voice husky and thick with promise.
He scooped me up and carried me down the hallway. He found the bedroom, kicked open the door, and deposited me on the bed. I stared as he stripped away his jacket and kicked off his boots. My mouth went dry as he peeled off his T-shirt and unbuckled his jeans, leaving them on but open. He was huge. Tanned. Covered in tattoos.
He was perfect.
He knelt on the bed, reaching for me.
“I’ll try to go slow, hellcat, but I’m pretty far gone. Lift your arms,” he instructed, pulling my shirt free and tossing it aside. He cursed and tugged my shorts free. “Jesus, Cynthia. You are far too beautiful for an old bastard like me.”
I couldn’t speak. I could barely move as his hands roamed up and down my bare legs, brushing the edge of my panties.
“Fuck, I feel like I’m going to explode,” he said, crawling over me. We both moaned as our bare skin collided for the first time. And then he was kissing me. I felt him spread my thighs so that his narrow hips fit inside them. My pussy ached, wanting more pressure. More friction. More Preacher.
I whimpered as he kissed me deeply, his hips circling slowly. He lifted his head to stare down at me.
“Arch your back,” he ordered. I obeyed mindlessly, and he deftly unhooked my bra, leaning up just enough to remove it.
“Fuck. You are perfect,” he said reverently, his hands sliding up to cup my tits. He held them, guiding the pointy tips to his hot mouth as he suckled them again and again. He cursed for the hundredth time, sounding like he was in pain.
“I need to . . . I need to see you, sweetheart. I need to taste you.”
“Taste?” I sighed dreamily. I felt heavy and restless all at once. I watched as he knelt between my legs, staring down at my pussy. He ran a fingertip lightly down the center of my lips, over the thin cotton fabric. I whimpered, unable to keep still. He grunted and dragged my panties down, then tore them off me. I gasped, starting to sit up. Preacher’s mouth was open, his eyes devouring my bare pussy.
Oh, God.
No one had ever looked at me like that before. It was almost tactile. I could feel Preacher’s eyes as he stared at my pussy like a starving man.
I watched him as he brushed his hand over me, then pressed down. I made a mewling sound like a kitten. Then he circled his thumb over my clit and I almost came.
“No one has seen you like this?”
“No one,” I answered, turned on, embarrassed, and exhilarated, all at the same time.
“Your pussy is fucking perfect.”
“Oh,” I sighed as he kept working my clit. His other fingers started to toy with my petals, then he pressed one finger inside me.
“Fuck. You are so tight, hellcat. I need to make you come a couple of times.”
A couple of times? I’d barely come that much in my entire life, and only when I was alone. I was shy and awkward, even when touching myself. And now I was spread open while Preacher stared at my pussy and talked dirty. And I loved it.
I freaking love it.
My hips bucked sharply as the pressure inside me grew. I tried to close my thighs to ease the ache but Preacher wasn’t having it.
“Keep them wide. I want to watch that pussy come.”
I moaned incoherently as he hooked his finger inside me, sliding it in and out as he strummed my clit faster and faster with the other hand. I was so close, but part of me was afraid to go over the edge, afraid of what I might do.
Of what sounds I might make.
What if I peed? I felt like I might pee. I was so soaking wet down there I could feel a wet spot forming under my ass.
“Oh, God!” I shouted as the orgasm tore through my body. I shook and shimmied, Preacher’s own denim-clad legs keeping my legs spread, holding me in place. He was true to his word, never moving his eyes from my spread open pussy.
“Good . . . that’s real good, baby. Keep coming for me . . . fuck, you look hot. I want my dick inside you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my goddamn life.”
He kept talking dirty. Kept strumming my clit. I couldn’t stop coming. I gasped as he slid another finger inside me.
“Yes . . . open that pussy for me. Make it ready for my cock.”
Oh. My. God.
Preacher was nasty. He wasn’t shy about any of it. He wasn’t ashamed. He was a full-on freak.
And so help me God, I was loving every second of it, even if it made me squirm in embarrassment at the same time.
He kept working my clit as I groaned, almost desperate to stop coming.
“You like that, hellcat? You like my fingers deep in your pussy? You feel so good. I knew you would. I can’t wait to wrap you around me.”
And then he changed position, his two fingers still plunging in and out of my quivering pussy. But this time, he replaced his thumb on my clit with his lips. I silently screamed as his hot, insistent lips closed over my clit and sucked. Hard.
I came again, my body arching off the bed and a stream of ‘Yes!’ and ‘Oh, God, yes!’ falling from my lips. I sounded like I was in a porn and I didn’t care. Then he started flicking his tongue rapidly against my clit and I lost the ability to speak at all.
I felt him slide a third fin
ger inside me just before the next orgasm hit me.
“Fuck, I like watching that pussy jump,” he hissed as he lifted his head. He kept his fingers inside me as my orgasm started to fade. I felt him opening me, spreading me with his fingers. The need in me started to rise again, so quickly it almost scared me. Preacher did not take his eyes off his fingers where they disappeared into my body.
“That’s it. Relax your muscles. Fuck. I can’t wait anymore.”
He pulled back, licking his fingers clean as he stared at me. Then he pulled his jeans off and kicked his socks away. I stared in shock at the giant tree limb that jutted out from his body. His body was perfect. Muscled and hard with thick thighs and calves from riding his motorcycle, no doubt. But I could not tear my eyes away from his enormous cock. I blinked as a shiny drop of precum glistened on the tip.
“What . . .” I said, unable to finish my sentence.
He crawled over me, guiding his cock to my entrance.
“It’s . . .” I started, then moaned as the tip of his cock rubbed against my slick pussy lips. “Oh . . .”
“Gotta go slow,” he said with a grunt as he slipped just inside me. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he hissed in pleasure.
I whimpered as he reached down to spread my pussy lips with his fingers and started rubbing my clit, staring down at where our bodies joined. He pushed inside a little deeper. I felt like I was being split in two, but it didn’t hurt.
“Give me that tight little pussy. Cream all over my dick . . . fuck, yes,” he hissed, the look on his face a mixture of pain and pleasure as he inched slowly forward.
And then I came again. I thrashed on the sheets, held in place by the giant cock spearing me to the bed. He was saying something to me, cursing and groaning as he sank a little farther inside me.
His fingers did not stop working my clit. His cock did not stop inching inside me. He cursed and said something like ‘This is it.’ He leaned down and sucked my nipple, and the world went away. I was floating, flying through space as the biggest orgasm yet ripped through me.
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