Preacher Man (Renegade Souls MC Romance Saga Book 2)

by V. Theia

  “That's none of my concern and I don’t care.”

  “Zero. So, when I say you needed to know what he’s capable of. I mean it. You matter to him, that much is clear.”

  “Is your sister damaged in any way?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. I’m trying to understand why you’d be a giant dick about this. Sure, he did a shitty thing, from what I can see, it wasn’t his choice to do that, crap happens, right? So, is your sister ruined by what happened, is that why you’ve kept up this vendetta? Because, Red Light, is it? As far as I can tell, you’re being cruel for dick’s sake. I mean, that just might be your personality, I don't know you, but as an outsider, I only see cruelty.”

  A tick worked Red’s jaw. “No, she’s fine.” He answered reluctantly, but it didn’t even register with Preacher.

  Holy fuck.

  Ruby. His sweet Ruby going to bat for him.

  Some of the tautness in his torso lessened and he breathed finally, letting air in and blowing it out.

  “Babe. Believe whatever you want, you’re gonna anyway, you’re on the back of his bike.” Excuse me? Her eyes seemed to convey. He adored that look on her.

  “What the hell does that even mean? Preacher?”

  “It’s nothing, Ruby. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  “It means you’re something to him. And someone to him only gets hurt.”

  “Oh, fuck you, Red. Seriously, fuck you. Haven’t you ever made a mistake?“ Hissed Preacher stepping back into this nightmare conversation, Red was stomping all over his last damn nerve. “I forgot you’re so damn perfect. I’m fucking done trying to fix this. Go fucking boo-hoo to someone else. The next time you see me I won’t be apologizing. I’m never saying sorry again, are you hearing me, brother?”

  Red Light’s face was flushed It was a hot day, made hotter still from the fraught tension bouncing between them. Preacher meant every word. There was no forgiveness where acceptance was not offered, he couldn’t atone if Red wouldn’t meet him halfway.

  It sucked. It fucking sucked. He considered him a club brother and he knew this shit was going to piss Rider off because he wanted Red back in the Colorado chapter one of these days. It would come down to it that Preacher needed to leave, both men wouldn’t coexist in the same town without coming to hateful blows.

  His pulse arrested for a second then drove into high gear catching the understanding glance from Ruby.

  She was flooring him. Why wasn’t she scared of him? Why wasn’t she running from him?

  He walked over to her, caught up her hand, lacing her long skinny fingers through his and felt another blow when she squeezed his hand.

  Goddamn, he was a second away from blubbing like a baby for her support.

  “I’ll say one more thing then you can consider me a ghost, Red. We are club brothers, you might not want it, or like it, but you ever get in trouble I’ll be there. But this here between us, I won’t participate it any longer. You need anything, you can call. You wanna hate me until I go toes up, that’s fine, I won’t get in your face again and If I come through town we’ll keep it strictly club business.“

  Preacher always hated silence. He’d rather a person come out and say whatever they had on their mind, because why keep it in? It just sat stagnant inside a person growing poison. He had emotional pain right in his breastbone, it was constant. Being hated by a brother was one step down from pond scum.

  Red’s gaze held his. His body language relaxed now as if nothing volatile had occurred between the men.

  He ignored Preacher altogether. “It was good to meet ya, babe.”

  Pity I can’t say the same. Her gorgeous eyes said with the prettiest brow arched high on her forehead.

  Fuck. Preacher was done for. He grinned and felt the pressure in his sternum release. He gripped her hand and walked them out.

  “Well that was a turd full of laughs,” she remarked once they reached his bike. He helped her on with the helmet.

  “I’m sorry he dragged you into that, Ruby,” he wore a grimace waiting until she climbed on the bike behind him, he touched her thigh briefly and felt her arms go around him. Perfect skinny arms that fit his body perfectly. He was still vibrating from head to toe, mostly frustration for this goddamn Groundhog Day show that never seemed to see his shadow, it was an endless loop of nagging antagonism, the tit for tat was growing old.

  “It’s fine.”

  Was it? Was it really? He doubted it.

  Preached scraped both hands over his head before fastening his own helmet, the metal containing the brewing headache threatening to blow his skull apart.

  “You wanna grab some grub? There’s a diner not far, they do good pancakes.”

  He kicked off the stand, revved his girl to life.

  “You promised me something else, Preacher man. I’m not letting some pouting dickhead with a score to settle ruin the two days I’ve taken off from work. We’ll get food later. Let’s find a motel, yes?”

  That stopped him fast. Pausing with his hand on the throttle.

  He was a wreck internally and she just pieced him back together.

  Veins popped out on Preacher’s forehead as he hunkered over the handlebars and blew out the air trapped in his lungs.

  She still wanted him.

  After listening to one of his biggest regrets and darkest secrets spat in her face she still wanted him.

  His cock came to life. Her arms tightened around his belly.

  “Preacher? Are we leaving now?”

  “Yeah.” Voice thick with feeling. “Yeah, hold tight, baby.” His head was pounding, not with frustration now. Something Red had said. Ruby meant something to him.

  She meant a lot to him.

  Getting her on the back of his bike meant something important, something big.

  Things were gonna change between them.

  If he opened his big trap about it.

  Her hand slid down his belly and covered his crotch. Grinding her palm.

  Oh, shit. He forgot how to speak. How to think. His mind blanked out, all that existed was his cock and her hand. The groan boiled out of him. If they made it to a motel in one piece it’d be a miracle.

  This woman. Really, this woman. She was tying him in knots he had no desire to unravel from.

  Preacher hadn’t reached rock bottom. Not yet.

  His hand shook on the ride to a motel ten miles away.

  He kept it together. He kept his shit together. He wouldn’t hit rock bottom today.

  There’s that sensation when you’ve sat too long on your leg and your foot is numbing, blood rushing back causing it to pins and needle, sharp stabbing pricks until the numbness wears off. He felt it in his chest as they rode. Frozen and tight.

  With Ruby’s hand laid over his cock, he felt as though his entire body was numb.

  She knew something about him he’d never wanted her to hear and she hadn’t run in the opposite direction to get away from him.

  Part of him wanted to contain that side as self-preservation, whereas the truth was he was ashamed he couldn’t control his own psyche.

  She hadn’t run or told him this between them was a bad idea.

  Why not?

  The thought of putting his hands on her in the same way he had with Ginny ran his blood to pure ice.

  He’d fucking kill himself first.

  Would never hurt the tiny dancer.

  He hoped with all hope, anyway.

  There was always a scream in the back of Preacher’s throat, like he’d swallowed it down forever ago and was forcing it to stay there, afraid of the unfettered noise. On bad nights it came out, rare these days, thank god, but he was always aware it was there. It tasted like copper and grief.

  The scream would pale in insignificance if god forbid he ever injured Ruby. It would be a roar he couldn’t control.

  Confrontations of the ugly kind left him with a sour taste. He should stick around the club, look for a fair fight to ease some of the t
ension. If he was at home he’d have Grinder spar with him, a fight to make sense of the mess of his head. It always did the trick if sex didn’t. With Ruby on the back of his bike working her lithe fingers over his crotch, he only had one thing on his mind.

  Call him a simple man.

  No fight could make him feel human as much as her hand stroking his cock did.

  Don’t ever hurt this woman. He warned.

  Or he’d eat his own damn gun.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “I feel him in places that had no business feeling. Wasn’t it enough my traitorous vagina wanted him. Now my heart was in on it, too…” - Ruby.

  Instead of freaking out and blurting a hundred questions in record time Ruby chose the lesser evils of two roads, the more pleasurable road and seduced Preacher on the quick ride to the nearest motel sensing he needed it more than she wanted answers. Her hand had laid snug on his crotch the entire journey, giving him little encouraging pats to aid him in driving faster, the ride had been thrilling, even if her sore legs were protesting. And worth it if the blistering look he’d given her when he’d helped her climb off and told her to wait by the bike while he sorted out their room.

  The room wasn’t much to look at, but it was tidy and functional for their needs. A bed, a dresser, a shitty TV that only had a few channels working. The carpet smelled of cleaning products, she shuddered to think what it needed a deep clean for, but the bed was presentable, same went for the bathroom when she poked her head inside the smaller room. Washing the grime of the day from her hands and face, she heard Preacher groan and dump himself on the bed.

  “C’mere, baby.” He called out. Ruby’s body pulsed with the timber.

  She was all about her own hormones and how they made her feel and want, but then he reached down and fisted his cock, bringing it in and up towards his belly button. That one grunt and all thoughts banished and she was caught once again in his magic. Painfully alive and watching his hand motions jerking himself slowly as if taunting her with what she wanted most.

  "Show me how you like it, what you do when you're alone."

  "Come over here." He beckoned with his voice rough as sandpaper. She went, sitting on the end of the bed. He’d unbuttoned his jeans pulled apart so he could reach inside, gripped his cock so tight the head turned purple squeezing out a drop of pre-come from the slit.

  Ruby moaned.

  "I've been picturing you on your knees lately when I do this."

  "That's how you like it?" She was hardly breathing.

  Up and down. "Yeah. You're always so hungry, opening your mouth, poking out your little pink tongue. I want to come all over your lips. I think about that a lot."

  The sight was like nothing she'd seen before, this beast of a man giving himself pleasure, she could see it rolling through him in hard spasms, his belly jerking causing the muscles beneath to bounce out of order.

  He crossed his ankles, used his other hand to palm the head of his cock, rubbing in the wetness there, his eyes closed for a second before pinging open and pinning Ruby.

  He wanted her to see this, the pleasure.

  And god, if she could have looked away, to walk away right then before he caught her in his web... she most probably would have stayed rooted to the bed.

  "I'm close already. This is what you do to me, Ruby."

  "You want to come now?"

  "Yeah. I'm close." Hard breathing. Hers matched his.

  "I can feel you sucking me, Rube. Fuck, your mouth is so warm and wet."

  Oh, he had no idea what she could do right now, just crawl over to him and take him into her mouth, lick him from top to bottom until his pubic hair brushed against her nose. "Keep watching," he grunted, grabbing on tighter, the veins popping out on his forearm underneath all his ink. "Fuck, Ruby. Tell me you're wet for me. Give me that at least."

  He asked for so little and now she felt sick in her stomach to know how much he held back from her because of her rules she'd laid out days ago. Just days, it felt longer, like she'd had him in her life much, much longer. Forever, even. "Fucking tell me."

  "I'm constantly wet because of you, Asher," she admitted huskily and he smiled with fondness and affection in his eyes. She knelt up on the bed, crawled his way, his hand pumping harder, never wavering from her face, wetness seeping out of his swollen abused tip, Preacher was rough on himself, the kind of roughness she got off on. The only man she'd been with who understood her desires even before she spoke them. Once she was straddled over his lower legs, watching as his head cranked back to the headboard, concentrating on his fierce task, small puffs of air leaving his mouth, she admired the man he was, and the man he was showing her. It didn't matter all the sex they'd been having, it took pride and confidence to show this vulnerable side when it was only him indulging.

  "Milk it out of you." She told him, his eyes coming at her fast. He pumped faster. "Are you there?"

  "Fuckkkkk. Ruby. Tell me to come for you. For. You."

  That one sentence hit her hard in the solar plexus, as if warm hands roamed over her body, her breasts grew heavy, aching, panting she leaned forward, rested her fingers on the top of his hairy thighs, the wet slick tormenting her, her own wetness a reminder of what he can do to her without laying a finger on her. She chuckled, eyes alight with amusement.

  “Look at you. You’re the devil asking me to sin. Come for me, Asher. Come only for me." The implication was huge. Only her. No one else ever again, but she didn't say that.

  A great rattle went through his chest, a grunt from his throat, he bared teeth and as he began to leak his pleasure she dipped her head over his lap, let him feel her lips brush his cock and let him pump out all over her mouth and cheeks, flicking out her tongue, moaning as he spilled on and on and on. His dirty pleasure dripped down between them, onto his belly in long spurts, over her hands. Preacher was groaning deep in his gut like she couldn't have pleased him more by offering her mouth to him to come over. She could have easily swallowed his cock, ached to feel the burn of his girth in her throat, that hot stretch as he choked her, but this was --- a knee-jerk need, a marking of what he was sharing with her

  "Look at you, messy girl." How incredibly thick his voice sounded and then to her utter shock and delight he lifted a hand to her face, using his thumb to rub in his come over her lips and chin. Her eyelids lowered to some half-mast aroused state, enthralled in the feel of his fingers.

  So, dirty.

  She was practically orgasming, hovering in hormones. Her vagina muscles all clenched at once dying for him to fuck her.

  Already her own pleasure from watching him come was right there, an avalanche prepared to knock her down. His thumb moved and stroked, and because she couldn't help herself she flicked out her tongue, touching his salty pleasure on that thumb.

  Preacher grunted, eyes flashing growing heavy.

  He was literally painting her in his semen and she was getting off on it like the kinky bitch she was.

  Moaning, he drew her forward, her breasts smashed into his bare chest, the small gathering of hairs tickled her nipples, her body attuned to his, everything turned her on.

  He came another inch closer, his eyes dropping to her mouth. Was he going to----- he licked his bottom lip, his thumb going left and right.

  "Are you really going to kiss me like this?" She laughed because there was no way he would, men were squeamish fuckers refusing to taste their own juices, she licked his thumb again and for a second he popped it into her mouth, moving it in a way that made her moan.

  And then he kissed her.

  Open-mouthed. Wet and hot.

  So, fucking hot she started to shudder as their tongues tangled and moved around each other's, his large hands gripping the back of her head. Ruby crawled into Preacher's mouth, into his skin and down to his soul.

  They groaned together.

  Their sex noises a dirty little choir because, oh god, this was a hot kiss. The best kiss.

  When they parted, his breathing was
excessive, their mouths right there in grabbing distance.

  She laughed when he pulled a sour face. "How the fuck do you swallow that, beautiful?" he scrubbed the back of his hand against his mouth, before using his discarded shirt to wipe her face.

  "I could say the same about you going to town on my vagina every chance you get."

  "Now don't you be bad mouthing that little darling. She tastes like the sweetest sugar. My come does not."

  "Apples and oranges, Preacher man. It's not about the taste, but what's happening to you, what I'm doing to you." She realized how possessive that sounded and amended too quickly. "I mean, what's being done to you when you come. That's what I meant. What a woman likes, she's not thinking of what semen tastes of."

  He grinned and did something filthy by licking her lips. "I get ya, babe."

  "You're a kinky bastard, anyone ever tell you that?"

  "Yeah. This woman I've been fucking."

  "She sounds amazing." Ruby grinned, fishing shamelessly for a compliment but was knocked off-kilter when his face sobered, and he cupped her chin. "Yeah, she really is."

  "Okay. Well." Embarrassed, she popped up to her feet, standing over him on the bed, he had to put his head back to look up at her. "Maybe we should get to that part huh?" her smile was a little teasing, as best as she could tease this man who kept knocking her off her own damn game. He was better at it, she could admit it now.

  "Whatever you want, beautiful. Strip."

  Ruby did in record time. Only she never got chance to sink down and find his cock as she craved to do, because Preacher groaned loud, using her butt in both of his hands he dragged her into his face, standing over him with her legs braced on either side of his thighs to stop herself from falling she rested her hands on the bedroom wall while he pushed his tongue into her pussy lips.

  “You never fucking wear panties, drives me crazy to know that,” he growled palming her mound, stroking it like he would a cat from front to back. She purred.

  "Oh, god."

  "There she is, my gorgeous little darling. She got all nice and wet for me and It'd be rude not to say hello. Keep still, Rubes."