Page 20 of Preacher Man

"Miss Steele." The deep timber went through her like a train. His rogue smile devastating to her equilibrium. She folded her arms in tighter, only popping out a hand to take the keys he offered over.

“Thank you, Preacher. What was wrong with it?”

“What wasn’t wrong with it, beautiful. But she’s running again. Your radio is still fucked, nothing can revive that, and I brought your brakes up to code, how the fuck you haven’t crashed I don’t know. It’s not a permanent fix, understand? I would have had to rebuild the entire engine and undercarriage, but it’ll run, for now, can’t guestimate a time when it won’t, but it should get you around a while if you’re staying local. Don’t try to head out onto the freeway.”

“I can’t thank you enough, you saved my life. It’ll make job hunting that bit easier. I won’t have to beg to borrow Tom’s car again.”

“Tom?” His head went back, eyes trained on her and Ruby had the unmitigated feeling if she didn’t answer correctly she was in for a grilling. Her belly tightened with fluttery butterflies.

“Work colleague. He let me use his car yesterday to drop off applications.”

A hand coasted down his beard, her eyes followed the soft motion, wanting to touch as well. “Just a work friend?”

“Nosy, aren’t you, Asher Priest?”

“Just want to know if I’m stepping on toes, beautiful. So?”

This was where she was meant to tell him absolutely, no question or room to misinterpret that he was barking up the wrong flirting tree. That she didn’t want him that way so he should move on.

Only Ruby didn’t.Couldn’t. The refusal stuck in her throat, and all she could imagine was how good he'd look stripped down to nothing with her straddled over his lap exploring the ink on his body peeking out from underneath his shirt, and how he could possibly be the best sex of her life.

Sue her, because of all chaos she was dealing with, she really couldn’t afford to lose her feelings over a man right now.

But she wanted to.

For a little while.

She fortified her breath as it churned, made sure she was holding Preacher’s intent green stare when she replied in a steady voice. “No toes to step on. Unless I grew a penis in the last five minutes. You’re more his type.”

“Good. Not that he’s my type either, but good he’s not yours,” he smirked. A dirty twitch of his lips and he stepped forward. And once more, until he towered forcing her neck back to see what he was doing. The color flashed in his eyes, he seemed pumped full of adrenaline or it was just his natural state, she didn’t know. Her arms dropped and so did his eyes.

Oh, shit.Folded them quickly. Too late. Preached grinned knowingly.

“I’m happy to see you, too, beautiful. Tell me, why you waited out here for me, instead of inviting me inside your place?”

“I didn’t want you inside.” When it came out harsher than she intended she added quickly. “I haven’t tidied, it’s a mess.” The disgruntled displeasure noise he made in his throat had her head going further back to look at him. Like he was holding onto patience and he wasn’t a man to be patient.

“That’s a pity.”

She had an insistent throb in her skin, low on her abdomen, a place she wanted to be tickled, caressed, kissed a lot until she cried out. Did he really have to smell as good as he did? The man was a hazard to her hormones. After all these months of not really being interested in sex, understandably since she was still sick at herself, her body wanted Preacher. To roll around with, to take a hard pounding from, to feel his sweat slide against hers while he dragged pleasure out of her by any means necessary.

By force.That dark little voice whispered.You like it. And didn’t he just look the type to give her what she craved?

She wanted to fuck the hell out of Asher Priest. That hard-worn biker she’d avoided since he’d rolled into her bar years ago. She wanted to fuck his brains out. And have him fuck hers out.

And then do it all over again. Until they were comatose with exhausted pleasure.

Ruby swallowed, every part of her body reacting to the news; heated and swollen and so ready.

Dammit. Great timing, body.

CHAPTER SIX

“I think my cock needs Prozac. It’s depressed it’s not buried inside you. – Preacher

Seduction and flirtation used to be her sport, her recreational play time, there was no cheesy line she hadn’t mocked and she knew every trick in the book for a man to get into her pants, but she'd been off her game for a while now. Hadn’t wanted to, more to the truth. As though something had gone from inside her, that hunting instinct of flirting with a pretty face, of sharing hot kisses and maybe more, but she felt it stir to life didn’t she… forhim. That tiny little tickle of her thighs, the belly clench when she saw him, oh yeah, stirred awake alright. Dammit. She shouldn’t flirt or want to kiss that outlaw again, he was too cocksure, and would probably play the game better. Not when she knew he was bad news. The fuck ‘em and leave ‘em type. Bikers were notorious with their reputations for fucking, him more than most since he never hid what he was.

Still, she was attracted. Couldn't help it.

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