Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
I heard him chuckle and those big boots walk across the room into his office. Only then did I look up. Clarice was staring at me.
“Oh, dear,” she whispered. “You do have it bad.”
I grabbed my bag, deciding my inbox could wait, as well as any awkward conversation with Preacher about what he’d overheard. I knew he wanted to talk about the future, but I’d put him off. Just like he kept putting off talking about his past.
Two could play that game, after all.
“Let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Preacher
“How was Pilates? Did you learn any new positions?”
I’d tried. I’d done my best to leave her be. But watching Cynthia try and avoid my gaze and pretend to work was just too tempting. I had to tease her about it.
I had a couple of other things I wanted to do on my mind, too.
“Stop teasing,” she said, but there was a cute little twist to her lips. “I have work to do. Somebody has been distracting me lately.”
“It’s almost lunchtime. Who says I’m teasing?” I leaned on the doorjamb between our offices. “I always put out for you.”
She stifled a laugh, looking this way and that. Like people weren’t noticing that she was my woman. Like the way I acted around her left any doubt.
Hell, I wanted to put a sign up.
I wanted more than that.
I wanted her wearing my ring.
So far, she kept evading the subject. I wanted to be on the same page. Because as far as I was concerned, Cynthia was mine forever.
The sooner she accepted and understood that, the better.
It was worrying me, truth be told. I had never fussed like this about anything. I was a black and white sort of man. Live and let live.
Except that I wanted her under lock and key. So to speak, anyway.
Not literally, like Connor had done to sweet little Cass. That method did have its merits. I rubbed my chin, considering. I shook my head. Locking up the lady who kept this place running was not an option. Not yet, anyway.
But for now, a little horizontal action during lunch was just what the doctor ordered. Literally. Doc, from the Hell Raisers, was my own personal physician. The man prescribed tequila, pot, and pussy for just about everything. He wasn’t a big believer in antibiotics or pain meds, and somehow, he kept the wheels turning and the bikers under his care alive and kicking.
I smirked, imagining what might be going on back home. The Untouchables and the Hell Raisers were in flux. Shane was more of an Untouchable now, but the Raisers still considered him their leader. At some point soon, the Raisers were going to need a new Prez.
I had some thoughts about that, too.
“I just took a break for class! Don’t you want me to get any work done?”
“I have a job for you. Over at the parsonage,” I said suggestively.
She bit her lip and kept typing. I stalked over and stood beside her, trying to will her to stand up. She kept typing. I leaned down and blew on her neck, taking a little bite. I could see that her nipples instantly hardened. I reached down to tweak one.
Fuck, and now my cock is hard as a rock, too.
“Preacher!”
“Preacher!”
I nearly dragged her out from behind her desk for a kiss, deciding I’d toss her over that desk and bury my face between her thighs. I wanted lunch, but only if her sweet pussy was on the menu.
Yes, that sounds mighty tempting right about now.
“Come on, hellcat. I promise I will let you work after.”
“Okay,” she said shyly. “I’ll see you in five.”
Well, hot damn. I was going to get a nooner. I grinned and started whistling as I headed over. I threw a fresh sheet over the couch and fished around in the fridge to see if I could offer the lady anything to eat after I’d eaten her.
A tentative knock on the door only made me smile wider. Three steps and I was there, pulling her inside and pushing her up against the door to kiss her. My hands were all over her, possessively squeezing and claiming her curves. My tongue plunged in and out of her mouth, mimicking the action I was really after.
I wanted in. Now.
“Wait,” she said breathlessly as I started tugging at her jeans.
“What,” I growled impatiently. I did not want to wait.
“I want to . . . try something.”
I stared at her. Did she mean . . . something dirty?
“Let me. Please?”
I nodded. What else could I do? The most beautiful girl in the world wanted to experiment on me. I would be a fool to say no.
And my mother did not raise any fools.
“You promise not to stop me?”
“I’ll do my best,” I said gruffly. And I would. Even if she wanted to tweeze the hairs off my balls. I’d fucking stand there and take it.