Page 172 of Preacher Man

"Forget it, now you know."

"Yeah." she answered. "Preacher married seems---" she didn't finish the sentence, Ruby could fill in the blanks just fine. All the waitresses probably thought it was weird and pathetic she'd married the guy they’. "I mean, like congrats though, girlie." Handing over the drinks order she snubbed Kendra in case her hand slipped and she punched her in the teeth.

Just like a vengeful woman, for the rest of the night when she felt Preacher's eyes on her she flirted with whoever happened to be at the bar, laughing far too loudly, smiling too widely and generally trying to needle Preacher in the same way she'd been hurt.

He stalked over from his table like a superman parting the crowds, his gaze never once wavering. Ruby had to suck in a breath to deal with the stare because it was damn hot and she had to remember she was mad at him. So, damn wet and achy.

That cute prospect Dix happened to be parked on a bar stool shoving chips into his mouth and watching the game on one of the TVs. Sidling up, putting an extra swing in her hips, disregarding the impressive sight of her husband standing a few feet away, his tattoo fingers drumming on the bar, her smile was luminous for the prospect.

"You need anything else, handsome?" She asked the guy who had flirted shamelessly with her only weeks previous, leaning her arms on the bar, the mounds of her boobs perfectly pushed together and spilling a little over her shirt. She heard a growl from her right she didn't pay attention to. She'd puthimin the deep freeze.

"Who...me?" Dix asked, blinking owl-like, his head swiveled around to look startled at Preacher then back at her. He obviously recalled his last warning from hubby.

"Of course, you, silly." Her smile grew and she licked her lips.

"Ruby."

"Oh." Dix’s voice cracked with amusement, once again he looked towards Preacher who hadn't unpeeled his eyes from Ruby. She felt it in every tingly nerve ending. "Eh. No. No thanks, darling. I'll eh... get out of your way, Sir." He told Preacher.Little suck up.

Wiping down the bar she pretended he wasn't even there, that tall imposing man of hers. Not hers. Whatever. "You realize how it ended when you flirted with one of my brothers in Nebraska, beautiful. I fucked you until you couldn't walk. So, keep going, you're only turning me on. Swear to God, Rubes. Don't push me on this."

"Or what, Preacher man?"

Or I'll jump this bar and push my cock so far inside you, you won't ever forget who you belong to.His hot gaze translated.

A blast of hormones flooded her brain, caused her breath to shallow, her nipples hardened, her pussy soaked. All normal reactions to a man she was crazy for.

Great, now she'd need to change her damn panties when she got a break.

"Go away, Preacher man."

"Give me a smile and I will."

"No. I don't smile at bearded bastards who grope waitresses."

"Ruby..." Preacher sighed explosively.

"I have flirting to do, leave me alone."

He growled baring those glorious white teeth, his hand holding the point of his beard, green eyes blazing so gorgeous she could have climbed over the bar and fucked him standing up.

She was half way to forgiving him. "Put up your walls, baby. Here’s a clue; I’m ignoring them all. Remember whose cock you'll be on later."

"I haven't decided yet. Don't wait up." She flipped back and left him there, strutting to the other end of the bar, knowing fine well his stare was all over her ass. He sat there for five more minutes watching her serve and smile at everything that had a penis before he loped off back to his table. He looked miserable and she almost felt sorry for him until she remembered it was him plastered in waitress perfume. Her icicles around her heart engaged their shields against his misery.Asshole.

This isn't the end of this.His sex-filled gaze told her. He had a tilt to his chin when he was about to get bossy on her, it lifted and stayed there. He could alpha-male all he wanted, she was closed for business.

By two AM Ruby was ready for a hot bath and her bed. After cashing up the registers, letting Tom go home and kicking out the last straggling drunk, she locked the doors and turned to face Preacher sprawled on one of the end bar stools, boots resting on the floor, jeans fitting him like skin and the gray marl colored wife beater clinging to his wide torso. He'd ditched his leather jacket some time ago, probably to drive her crazy by flexing his vein porn arms, that bastard. She'd licked up and down his forearms, many times, obsessed with the structure of muscles, and he was using his superpower against her.

"I can get myself home." She told him icily strutting past, only she didn’t get far when he hooked one of those gorgeous arms around her waist, dragging her between his legs, he held her fast.

"Enough sulking, wife. I can see the sadness in your eyes and I’m fucking sorry for that. The waitress flung herself at me a second before you walked in, I had no chance to push her off before you saw."

"How many more have done that?" She fired back, eyes accusing. "Since we got married, how many women?"

A frown bunched his forehead. Ruby had her answer. "I didn't take any up on their offers. Have I given you a reason to not trust me?"

"It's fine." she lied.

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