Page 8 of Preacher Man

Just my vagina does.

CHAPTER THREE

“Sometimes all it takes is an eggplant." - Preacher.

“I don’t think I’ve seen a motherfucker crash and burn so hard so fast. Until now. My boy has a new record. I mean for a second there we all thought she was gonna drop kick you over the bar, brutal shit.” Laughed Grinder, jostling Preacher by the shoulder. The rejected in question only smiled as his boys laughed their fucking asses off at his expense. Because he knew something they didn’t, he saw how Ruby had sucked in a breath when they were inches apart, the way her pupils dilated to cover all that chocolate brown of her irises, her tits heaved to keep up with her shallow breathing, not to mention she eye-fucked him on the sly so often he got dick ache from not vaulting the bar and rutting her right there.

He got it.

He had a reputation, one he didn’t give a crap about. He liked sex on the regular, it was one of his stabilizers for the fucking PTSD the military doctors diagnosed him with a few years ago, if he was orgasming he wasn’t having sweat inducing night terrors, if he was so sex exhausted he could forget he watched his big brother blown the fuck apart right in front of his eyes.

So, Preacher didn’t apologize for his sexual habits, not when it was that and his club keeping him sane. His reputation preceded him and it had never bothered him.

Until it did.

And he was one of those men that if you said he couldn’t have something all he wanted was the thing he couldn’t have. He licked around his teeth, eyeballing Ruby as she went about her job pretending to ignore him sitting here.

I see you, baby, yeah that’s right, you look your fill.

In any case, now he wanted her he wouldn’t quit until he had her taste in his mouth, down his throat, coating his fucking belly as she came and came screaming out his name. He had the urge to do her nasty ways, spurting his come over her cocoa skin, marking her. The fucking boulder of need burning in his belly only grew bigger.

Only for Ruby, it wouldn’t be a fast hook up in a bathroom stall or alleyway.

She was a bed and sheets lady. When he got the chance to go down on her he promised himself he’d wipe his beard afterward.

“Plenty of pussy for you back at the club, bro.”

“Hm.” He chimed half-heartedly back to Grinder.

She should never have said no like that, not when her darling little body contradicted her. Preacher would have accepted her no and walked on. No harm no foul. His dick would have recovered the rejection in time.

Pointy little nipples did not lie.

He sat around the table for most of the night, drinking, passing the time with his boys, friends dropping by. “Where the fuck is Rider, anyway?” One asked.

“He said Zara was feeling flu’y. I'm telling ya, man-cards can be revoked. He actually said just like that.Flu'y. Florence Nightendick stayed home to take care of her.”

The boys sniggered knowing their prez had caught the feels bad for his queen. “Translation they’re probably going at it like wild boar again. I can think of no better medicine, am I right?”

Preacher could understand why Rider would be at home. He’d got the good pussy; his old lady was nuts for him. His own dick twitched watching Ruby glide up and down the bar serving, chatting, laughing with people.

Another hour, being tortured by a tease, he slapped hands with his boys who left to head to their homes. “Let me guess, you’re sticking around to strike out again?” Nothing but amusement laced his best buddy's voice. Only a few stragglers were left at the bar now, almost closing time. He neither denied nor confirmed. “You know you can get laid back at the club, hell, click your fingers, Preach, and five bitches will fall at your feet with their mouths open.”

Preacher’s tongue wanted a particular flavor. And if he didn’t try again he’d always wonder.

He slid out of the booth, cuffed Grinder around the shoulder. “Get out to the truck, bro.“ The designated driver prospect waited outside to taxi everyone home.

Grinder, a tall man, with a thick dark beard and a straight slash of darker hair on top of his head swayed in his biker boots, his breath ripe with alcohol flashed a wide grin Preacher’s way and grabbed him in a bear hug. His voice slurred a little. “Really fucking glad you’re back, man. You’re doing good, yeah?” Preacher knew what he was asking. He nodded briefly. “Good, bro. Really fucking glad. Listen, you and me we’ll make a night of it at the party, yeah? Got some nice new groupies been coming around. Missed you, bro. Club wasn’t the same without you,” another headlock hug, Preacher detangled and laughed shoving Grinder towards the door. “Get the fuck home before you wanna start kissing me.”

He went to take a piss. When he came back the bar was empty and Ruby was clearing off a table singing along to Elton John’sTiny Dancer. Hips going in all enticing directions. He didn’t know what hypnotic vibe she was putting out, but his dick wanted to reply. For a good minute, he watched her dance as she took away glasses, using the vantage point of the small hallway near the bathrooms to get a good eye on her.

Man, even casually she could move.

His thoughts were downright disgusting at this point.

She came to a startled halt seeing him. “What the hell. You scared me. We’re closed, Preacher.”

“I was in the head. But I couldn’t miss the floor show, tiny dancer. Real nice.” He winked and had the pleasure of seeing her embarrassed.

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