by V. Theia
Her arms folded, stretching the material over her tits. Good god. Preacher wasn't blind, he looked and admired like a dying man in the desert seeing water. He wanted to suck and worship. He wanted to make those tits ache for his mouth. He wanted to make her beg for it.
"Hey, fella, eyes up here, thanks," she clicked her fingers at him. Preacher grinned unashamed. He could hear her aroused inhales. Quick and short.
"Sorry, my eyes got lost for a second. In my defense, they like what they see."
"Right." Her tone said she didn't believe bullshit. "So, about this bill. I'm broke as a bitch can be, but I get paid at the end of the month and I want to set up a payment plan."
"Babe."
"I mean it. I'll go to Rider if I must. He won't be happy you're giving away free mechanical services. I don’t need charity."
Preacher narrowed his eyes, tossed aside the wrench and wiped his hands on a rag he kept in his back pocket, before rising to stalk forward, a slow prowl, his head cranked down towering over her, she had to crane her neck back, a stalement in her eyes but otherwise she didn't move, holding her ground. She meant it, did she?
"I know you're a proud woman, I admire that, Ruby. There’s nothing wrong with one friend helping another. But get me when I say you don't owe me or the shop jack shit, it was on my own time, using my own tools, so Rider will tell you the same. Buy me a drink next time I'm at the bar if you wanna wipe a non-existent debt. Or you could just gimme a kiss right now." She was a hard nut to crack, buried beneath layers of hard exterior he wanted to penetrate right to the soft of her. He could practically see her weighing up his words looking for the double meaning.
She gave him the sexiest brown-eyed scowl.
The wind always howled a little louder through the compact compound, she wrapped her thin jacket around her. Such a thin little skirt wouldn’t keep the tiny dancer warm at all. But he wished she wouldn’t hide her tits from him. Come here, baby, I'll keep you warm.
"Do you ask for kisses from everyone, Bob? Derek? Bubba?"
"Nah, babe, they're really not my type, they have too many bristles and Bubba is a fucker for biting."
But you are so my type.
My fucking type. And I didn't even know.
"Well, keep dreaming. I'd rather pay in cash."
"You're crushing my heart."
She snorted the cutest little noise and he saw the twitch of a real smile edging around her bare lips. Lips, he wanted to suck on for a long dirty month, wanted more of her strawberry taste in his mouth. Fuck, he’d never tasted a woman so incredible before.
"Have you heard of St Jude?" Expressive eyes, deep pools that had no end and when she really trained her gaze on him, really looking without that shy glance away, he felt it.
Preacher jerked a brow confused at the direction of her swift mind. Now, where was this going? He’d bite. She kept him on his toes if nothing else. "The lost causes guy?"
"That's him. Even he wouldn't take you on, Preacher man, why do you think I would?"
Little teasing minx.
He barked a rough laugh rubbed a hand down his growing beard until it was perfectly pointed.
"Beautiful, all this complimenting will go right to only one place and I don’t think you’d appreciate being fucked over an oil drum, because between that mouth of yours and the tiny little skirt that I want to get under and what you said to me the other day, we’re seconds away from that." And god help him her eyes followed until she was looking at his crotch as well.
Instead of thinking, which was what he should have been doing, he took two steps right into her space, her scent was sweet, fruity, a little spicy. It suited her and added into the full package that was Ruby and just how much he was desiring this one woman. Tipping up her chin, he saw the stubborn tilt of her jaw, she didn't like being surprised.
Get used to it, baby.
"Have lunch with me."
Nudging his hand away so gently he got the impression she didn’t want to offend, but absolutely couldn't have him touching her, her shiver contradicted, but he left his hand down by his side. Ruby took a step back taking her sexy smell with her. Preacher let her evade him. This was just a little flirt, to get her heated up. She'd decided she was going to fuck him on her own time, he wanted her boiling for it, aching to climb onto his cock. Her gaze was so damn intense he couldn’t get a read on the way her thoughts were going.
"The legendary manwhore wants to date? Since when do you feed your victims? Did the world end and I slept through it?" She was entertained.
And avoiding his serious offer. He wanted to date her, go for food and fuck for days. Watch her down a plate of something and then drag her to his bed and do deviant things she'd feel shame for days even as she hungered for more.
She was incredible. Jesus, Preacher practically howled at the sky, he could smell the chase and he wanted it. He really fucking wanted it. Usually, it bored him, he was never that interested.
Oh, Ruby. He smirked leaning his spine up against the steel drum they kept outside for old oil and grease.
"Legendary ... I like how you think of me, baby. If it's the end of the world maybe we should get to repopulating soon as possible, our duty, you know," he winked and watched her eyes roll even as they lit up with a smile. “Are you scared? You don’t have to be. I’ll be gentle. We’ll start with an entree first,” he smiled slowly, rocking forward on his boots.
"I'm Teflon, Preacher. No amount of flirting will work on me, you're wasting your best material, keep it for the bar girls. Really. I know you types like the chase and this is probably whetting your tongue like a wolf scenting raw meat, but I’m just not interested in dating."
It was just a second and he might have missed it had he looked away, but she gave him an up and down glance, that sexual checking out kinda look. Turning on her heels giving him the best view of that fan-fucking-tastic ass his mouth went bone-dry the same time his dick hardened in his overalls and she called out over her shoulder striding to her car. "Let me know about that bill and payment plan. Later, Preacher man."
“The liar really brings out the color in your eyes, tiny dancer.” He called out after her.
Damn. He just got his ass handed to him by the tiny dancer.
And he'd fucking loved it.
This woman was about as straight talking as they came.
Now she'd done it. Preacher could resist a lot of things, being put in his place, that was new. He fucking liked it.
Something like an unfettered feeling streaked through his body, not just the usual blast of lust, this was different, hotter, spreading to his fucking chest and beyond, owning him, taking over every vein and air way as he watched and hungered after her.
Preacher whistled a jaunty tune for the rest of the day looking forward to the next time they came together. In more ways than one.
******
Damn that man. He'd gripped her chin like he had the possessive right to with no sense of body boundaries. His touch had been warm and nice she'd almost leaned in and asked for more, for him to go on touching her, to run his gentle calloused fingers down the slope of her neck and maybe further still. Before she remembered she was the one in control here. His laugh had been low and explicit. How did a biker outlaw look sexy furling his eyebrows? The man was too much … everything.
Maybe she’d wanted him to take the decision from her and kiss the breath out of her. Maybe she was a little disappointed he hadn’t.
A thought couldn't muscle its way in without her thinking of how good his fingers had felt, or the sweet breath in her face when he'd got almost nose to nose like he'd been eating hard candy moments before she'd showed up.
Why couldn't he just take her damn money she didn't have and let it be the end of it? He wanted a date. Pah.
Well, that isn't happening Preacher.
Not because she’d punked out telling him she wanted to fuck him right now. Absolutely punked out. She’d seen the gawking crowd behind him, then zeroed in on how he’d watc
hed her walk towards him and every inch of confidence dripped out of her until she was a shaking mess, it was a wonder she got a sensible word out at all. Instead, she'd cocked her hip, snarked and been utterly entranced by his show of flirting. The touching, the husky depths his voice had fallen to. Everything.
She wanted him. And still, she’d hesitated. Changed her mind five times.
It’s just sex.
His reputation was disreputable, and not just hearsay, though there was plenty of that with the girls at work swooning their panties off over how good he was in the sack --or up against a car door--- but she'd seen the proof herself. Why did he want a date if he was all about the fucking? That had thrown her right off her game.
Long game? He sensed Ruby wasn't a booty call kind of girl? She totally was. She wanted to fuck him and fuck him. Dating the Preacher man? No, thank you.
She’d stopped by to remind him of the bill and to let him know she wanted him. Punked out big time, her glands hated her.
Halfway to her apartment, her phone chimed. Her heart leaped into her throat.
P: 2:32 - dinner then?
Oh, Preacher. So, persistent. A small part of her smiled. Images of him banging that woman against her car, those deep sharp movements of his body, god, he looked like he was going to war when he fucked. Rough and hard. She continued to drive, clenching her thighs together the whole way. Rather than being turned off knowing what kind of man he was as any sane woman would be, those imagines were arousing, needing to feel the hard churn of his muscles, to know how he moved when it was her he was inside, how hard would he grab her, how rough would he thrust?
She replied bluntly.
R: 2:35 - NO. Sorry not sorry.
And still hoped he’d respond.
She was crazy. A lost cause. Wanting to get laid, obviously.
Ruby had to fuck him or risk losing her mind and she needed that to focus on the rest of her life, at least to just get through this month while she ate ramen and avoided her landlord.
The party. She decided. It was neutral ground. Perfect for a fast hit and run screw.
Get in. Get off and get out. And it worked out better it was at his place, there was no awkward waiting for someone to get out of her bed, she could leave at any time. Yes, it would be perfect, she mused.
She was good with casual sex, her enjoyable recreational sport most weekends in the past when life was just that little bit shit, she could at least have an orgasm or four. One psychopathic dickhead had ruined it for Ruby. But Preacher had awoken her libido again. It would be a shame to waste her throbbing glands on an average joe. Nah, if she was re-joining the sexual population it had to be with someone who knew what he was doing.
And that tickling low in her abdomen said she had a sneaky suspicious Preacher would fuck her in all the dark ways she craved.
The party. She breathed, sucking in the air now it was settled, for sure this time.
She couldn’t tell a man like Preacher she was going to fuck one minute and then punk out the next. She was no cock tease.
Well, she was or used to be. But for all good reasons, and only when she intended to follow through.
“The party,” she said aloud, to cement it in sexual stone. Taking the right turn heading home. She had to get ready for it. For him.
Her nerve endings buzzed beneath her skin. Anticipating just what a man like Asher Priest would be like.
I know every dirty inch of you. His eyes always seemed to be saying to her. Impossible.
But she wanted him to.
God help her. She wanted him to explore every filthy crevice of her underused desires.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“What panties did a girl wear to have a one-night stand with a manwhore? - Ruby.
"You look like you're psyching yourself into going inside. Is the team-talk working at all?" A small laughing voice asked, causing Ruby to look behind her. The voice belonged to a stunning blonde woman sitting out on a lawn chair who Ruby hadn't even known was there until now and she'd been standing glaring up at the entryway for a good five minutes already. The woman looked so out of place when there was a rowdy biker party going on inside, but the woman, who wasn’t dressed in any way like a biker groupie, seemed comfortable as she smiled across at Ruby, the outside lights bouncing off her almost white hair. She was freaking gorgeous. Like the good witch, Glinda.
"I am. Kinda. Not sure how stupid I’m being right now.” Having talked herself out of it ten times while she showered, fluffed her hair, painted her face, slipped into the tight clothes and then again on the drive over. Fuck him. Don't fuck him. Fuck him. And on and on with the mental argument.
"Oh, believe me. I've been there." Blondie chuckled sipping from a red cup. "I remember thinking the exact same thing a few years ago. Funny how things work out. I walked into that party and met my destiny."
Huh. Eyebrows pinched together. Not exactly what Ruby was going for. Destiny not so much, but a hard-heavy night with a man who knew what to do with her body, she’d take that, or she would if she could make her feet move and walk inside to Preacher. Just a few steps, that's all it was. He was inside somewhere, waiting.
It was shady as fuck is what this was. She'd come to a motorcycle club, the most dangerous notorious club in Colorado, for a damn booty call. With Don Juan of the wandering dick.
Shoot her now.
After sex. Because she was really going to go through with it. She'd put on her good panties and expensive perfume.
But afterward, the shooting could happen and the self-reproach for falling for his manwhore game. She might as well collect a ticket and compare with the waitresses.
Ruby considered her body her enemy when it was so insistent on what it wanted in difference to her reasonable brain telling her to abort. It was her body's doing she couldn't stop thinking about Preacher and the promise of the glint from his dark emerald dirty eyes. The promise of desire had her by the lady balls.
Her nerves jangled underneath her skin, the sensation foreign, she wasn’t usually such a nervous nelly with these things, she really was good at the sex game, not that anyone could tell with her standing there like a frightened rabbit, looking through the entryway she saw person after person and not the one she wanted to see, to check how she felt. She’d know if she saw Preacher, if she could look at his craggy bearded face and see that smirk of lust.
That one last final decision.
The noise levels rose and she peeked in.
All those men in there had a connection to each other. Probably not by blood, but they'd chosen a family for each other. She understood people needed to find their family where they could. What must that feel like? To know without question someone had your back, to have another person at your side.
She was jealous. Even of this woman talking so fondly of everyone. Ruby felt the pulse of longing to belong … somewhere.
"Let me say, and forgive me for being forward, but if you do decide to go inside, and you change your mind for whatever reason, it happens, you know, don't walk home, okay? Come and find me, someone always knows where I am. We'll get you a cab or you can crash in a private room. No one will bother you. Just … don't walk anywhere alone."
That was weird to say to a stranger. The blonde looked serious, even smiling. Ruby didn’t know her from Adam, but she believed her sentiment. She found herself nodding.
"I'm sorry, who did you say you were again?"
"Crap. Where are my manners? I swear there's enough smoke in there to choke an elephant. I came out for some fresh air, it made my head all fuzzy." she laughed. "I'm Zara."
"You're one of the RS groupies?"
Zara burst out laughing. Ruby arched a questioning brow. "Oh, the boys will get such a kick out of that. I'm Rider's girlfriend. Or his old lady, as those cavemen call it, they do love claiming their shit, I’m surprised he hasn’t tattooed his stamp on my forehead while I sleep." Every word was spoken with affection laced through her voice Ruby figured being claimed didn't seem t
o bother her one bit. "Or, sort of old lady." She amended. "We're not married. He keeps asking."
Huh. Now she just had to ask.
"You haven't said yes?"
Zara chuckled and sipped again, shaking her head. "Not yet. We're good as we are, I keep telling him we don't need a piece of paper. He's persistent, he tries to catch me at weak moments. Sneaky biker-man."
"The infamous RS front man and you turn down his marriage proposal?" Ruby began to grin, liking this girl. She'd thought this oversharing woman was a little drunk at first, now she was liking her style keeping her man on his toes.
"Oh god. Please don't let him hear you call him infamous. I'll never hear the end of it, the biker-man has an ego on him, like something huge."
"Hm. Yeah. I get that. they all do." She was thinking of Preacher and his giant...ego. "I'm Ruby, by the way."
"Hi. Nice to meet you. Who are you here to see, if you don’t mind my asking? You have that blind date stunned look about you."
"I'm not. It's not like..." Zara smiled knowingly at her, Ruby went with the truth. "Asher Priest. He goes by Preacher. Though I haven't decided to go in yet, so..."
"Oh. Preacher!" She squealed.
"Is that good? A warning? Help a sister out, will you? I’m thinking this is a bad idea on a monumental scale. I talked myself out of it so many times, I have no idea how I got here, I don’t even remember the drive."
"He is cute, isn’t he? In a man-eating grizzly bear kind of way. I will tell you. I am dramatically in love with my biker-man, so there's no question about that, but this one-time Preacher took off his shirt after work, and I swear my ovaries kicked a little. It was all bump-bump-bump. Like eight of them! And that deep V."
Zara chuckled pointing towards her torso, and Ruby felt her own ovaries stand to attention with a little territorial jealousy. "I kept my Rider busy for the rest of the afternoon, he was useless to anyone for the whole night. That was a good day."
Zara sighed dreamily and rose lithely, tossing the cup into a tall oil can by the door. "He's a good man.