5. Holly #2
He spread me open with his thumbs and put his mouth on me, and my entire body bowed off the mattress.
He was unhurried, deliberate, his tongue finding my clit and circling it until I was shaking around the sensation.
I heard myself make sounds I barely recognized.
Broken, pleading and he just kept going, like he had all night, like he wanted to memorize every response he could draw out of me.
"Preacher," I gasped, tugging at his hair. “Seriously. I need you right now."
He lifted his head, eyes dark and gleaming, and I could feel a split second of pure cocky male satisfaction in his expression before he moved up my body.
He positioned himself at my entrance, ran the head of his shaft through my slickness once, twice, just to make me whine.
Then he pushed inside me, slow, inch by inch, stretching me until I was trembling around him.
I thought he was going to be merciful and let me catch my breath.
Instead he stayed buried to the hilt, forehead against mine, and gave me a single deep, deliberate thrust that knocked the air out of my lungs.
After that, any pretense of control was gone.
He set a rhythm that was rough and relentless, driving into me hard enough to slam the bed against the wall.
My legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his back, and pulling him deeper with every stroke.
He was thick enough that I felt every inch, the drag of him inside me sending sparks up my spine.
The wet sounds of our bodies filled the room, and I was reduced to whimpering, sobbing his name as the pressure low in my belly coiled tighter and tighter.
"Look at me," he said, voice strained, and I forced my eyes open. He held my gaze as he thrust deep, and something about watching him watch me fall apart pushed me right over the edge.
I shattered beneath him, my body clenching around him in wave after wave, his name ripping from my throat on a broken cry. Preacher buried his face against my neck, his rhythm stuttering, and then he was coming inside me, his whole body shuddering with the force of it.
Afterward he didn't roll away. He pulled me against his chest and kept me there while my breathing slowly settled. I rested my cheek against him, listening to his heartbeat slow beneath my ear.
"You know," I murmured, "this is dangerously close to cuddling."
“Don’t tell anybody, I’ve got my reputation to keep.”
“I’m building quite a collection of secrets about you.”
His hand moved lazily over my back until my phone rang from somewhere near the floor. I ignored it once, but when it rang again, Preacher sighed.
“Could be Luis.” The possibility got me moving, and I found the phone beneath my jeans before checking the screen.
It was Luis, so I answered immediately. “Hey.”
For a second there was only breathing. Then Luis said, “Holly?”
I sat up because something in his voice was wrong. “Luis, what happened?”
“Freight yard. Somebody—” He sucked in a sharp breath. “Truck window’s smashed. I came back because the alarm went off.”
Preacher was already sitting up beside me, watching my face.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
He didn’t sound remotely fine, and my grip tightened on the phone. “Luis.”
“Hit my head. It’s nothing. I just need—” A sound cut across the line, followed by a man’s voice that wasn’t Luis, and then the call ended.
Preacher was out of bed before I lowered the phone. “What?”
“Luis is at the yard. He’s hurt. Someone else is there.”
Preacher grabbed his jeans and reached for his phone. “I’ll call Gage.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No you are not.”
I stood and started reaching for my clothes. “Don’t waste thirty seconds arguing with me. He works for me, and he called me.”
Preacher’s jaw tightened, but he nodded once. “Get dressed.”
His phone rang before he could pull on his shirt. He looked at the screen. “Smoke.”
“Answer it.”
Whatever Smoke said wiped the remaining heat from his face. “Where?” He listened for a moment. “Keep eyes on him. I’m coming.” He ended the call and looked at me.
“What?”
“Gage spotted Vega near the old fuel lot. Two men with him.”
My stomach dropped as the pieces snapped together. “They’re up to something.”
“Yeah. Smoke’s closer to the yard than we are, so I’m sending him to Luis. Gage stays on Vega, and I’m cutting them off before they disappear.”
“I’m still not staying here while Luis is hurt. Smoke can meet me there.”
He stared at me for one hard second, calculating, before grabbing his cut. “You go straight to the freight yard, and you don’t get out of your car until Smoke is there.”
“I heard you, and I promise. I’ll stay in the car until Smoke gets there.”
He cupped the back of my neck and kissed me once, hard and quick. “Call me the second you see him.”
“I will.”
We left separately, him on his bike and me in my car. For the first five minutes I could see Preacher’s taillight ahead of me, then he turned toward town while I took the freight road. I called Luis to tell him I was on my way and got no answer.
The yard lights were on when I reached the yard, and Luis’s truck sat crooked beside the warehouse. I slowed as I approached because Preacher had told me not to get out, and for once I intended to listen.
Then I saw Luis on the ground beside the warehouse door.
“Shit.”
I grabbed my phone and called 911 as I pulled closer. The dispatcher answered just as I stopped the car, and I gave the address, left the line open and reached under the passenger seat for the tire iron I’d shoved there that afternoon.
Then I got out, keeping the tire iron tight in my hand. “Luis?”
He moved, and relief hit me hard enough that I nearly missed the shadow shifting near the warehouse. I spun as a man stepped out from behind the truck. Another came from the office side. Neither was Vega; both were strangers. I backed toward my car with the tire iron raised.
“Stay where you are.”
The taller man smiled without meaning it. “Ms. Curtis, we need you to sign something.”
I swung the tire iron when he came close. He caught the blow on his forearm with a curse, and I drove my knee upward hard enough to make him stagger. For one second I had space, and I turned for the car.
The second man caught me around the waist before I reached it. I drove my elbow backward, connected with something solid and heard him grunt, but his grip only tightened. The tire iron hit the dirt.
“Get off me!”
The first man recovered and grabbed my wrist. “You’ve made this much harder than it needed to be Miss Curtis.”
I twisted, kicked and managed to catch him in the shin.
He swore, which was something. If they wanted me compliant, they were going to have to work for it.
My phone still lay on the driver’s seat with the emergency call open.
I saw the screen light up, and then the taller man saw it too.
He reached inside, ended the call and threw the phone across the yard.
“You’re coming inside.”
“No.”
His hand tightened around my wrist. I looked toward the road and found nothing but an empty stretch of dirt disappearing into the dark. The man behind me started dragging me toward the warehouse, but I planted my feet and fought him every inch.
Preacher was going to come. I knew that as surely as I knew I wasn’t going to make this easy for the men holding me. Until he did, I was on my own.