by V. Theia
Far too handsome for his own good. Have a great time, Ruby, these bikers have a way of surprising the hell out of you when you least expect it. It was nice to meet you, hope to see you again. Now I have to go and find someone infamous to dance with."
How bad could the party be if some tiny blonde pixie belonged with those bikers? Ruby rounded her shoulders, waited five more minutes, toing and froing and then walked inside, letting the noise and smoke envelop her.
It was like walking into another world where Neanderthals ruled and women were meat.
Her pulse picked up, started hammering in every part of her body, spotting him towering above everyone almost immediately, his familiar stubbed ponytail on top of his head, looking sexier than ever, he wore his leather vest over a long -sleeved shirt and his denim encased the longest legs. Her heart went into overdrive.
And as if he’d been looking out for her, too, his eyes came at her. Held. Compelled her to walk and walk towards him. His gaze, weightier and sharper than the gazes of other men there.
That all-seeing green gaze. She began to crave and it pulsed deeper the closer she got.
This is it. Don’t get scared now. As Kevin McCallister would say. But Ruby was piss-her-pants scared and horny at the same time.
She walked on. It was as if her hearing had tuned out everything but the thump of her heart, the sound of her heels and the way her body demanded she get over to Preacher in the fastest possible time.
Needy greedy vagina.
Ruby walked a little faster and watched his smirk grow and grow.
Your sex better be worth it, Preacher man.
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 buil
ding 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 w
ho 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.