“Little Ginny said Preacher didn’t want you headin’ into the city not knowin’ no one. So he brought you here to introduce you to his family—to all of us.”
Debbie’s heart skipped a beat. Preacher had… what?
“You see, we didn’t know where he was,” Smokey continued. “Didn’t know if he was dead or alive or what, ‘til now. You brought ‘im back to us, and now we’re in your debt. You ever need somethin’, sweetheart, you come talk to me. I’ll make it happen.”
Speechless, Debbie could only nod, and Smokey turned his happy gaze back to Knuckles and Preacher. Both men were on their feet now, covered in dust and playfully shoving one another. A smear of dirt on his cheek, grass stuck in his hair, Preacher’s eyes locked with hers.
Flushing from head to toe, Debbie took a bite of her apple.
And those three silly words continued to beat an undeniable rhythm inside of her.
• • •
Much like the park, the local movie theater was chock-full of bikers and their families, and as their own large group made its way to the ticket counter, Debbie couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the nervous expressions of the townspeople and theater workers. If only they knew how sweet these men really were, how caring and giving too.
At the same time, she enjoyed the adverse reactions. She liked it when others averted their gazes or swallowed nervously as they passed. Beneath Preacher’s arm, tucked against his side, she felt safe and protected in ways she’d never felt before—powerful feelings for someone who’d spent years living in fear.
Inside the screening room, Preacher broke away from their group and led Debbie to the back of the theater to the very last row, where there were less people, and very little light.
Preacher took the aisle seat, and as Debbie edged past, he grabbed her hips and tugged her onto his lap. Quickly divesting her of her backpack, he captured her mouth in a kiss.
They kissed slowly at first—deliberate, leisurely strokes of Preacher’s tongue, so slow, so perfect, and Debbie sighed into his mouth. She forgot entirely about the movie, forgot she was even in a movie theater. She forgot about everything but the lips moving hungrily over hers and the hands quietly roaming her stomach and hips.
Their kisses sped up—quick, hungry kisses in rapid succession—and Debbie felt Preacher grow hard beneath her. She started to squirm, the thick, firm feel of him beneath her causing a now-familiar ache to flare to life between her thighs.
Growling softly, Preacher wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her still. She attempted pulling away to complain, only he captured her cheek and held her in place.
Soon Debbie’s kisses became distracted and messy. These feelings—the needy, pulsating knot low in her belly and the insatiable ache between her thighs—were all she could focus on. She wanted… no, sheneededto be touched.
But Preacher seemed made of stone—the hand on her cheek remained firm, and the band of steel wrapped around her middle flexed and tightened.
It took all of Debbie’s strength to pry his hand from her side. Frustrated and aching, she shoved it down between her legs.
As if he’d been waiting for this moment, Preacher promptly broke their kiss and spread his legs apart, unceremoniously dropping Debbie between them.
The disruption gave Debbie a brief glimpse of reality—the movie had begun. Playing overhead, the bright screen highlighted the room full of people. Her cheeks heated, flushing with embarrassment, only to quickly realize that no one was paying them any attention. And that the people nearby were other couples engaged in the same sort of activities.
Then Preacher’s mouth found her neck and his arm snaked around her middle, gripping her tightly. Situating one of her legs over his, he tugged open her jeans.
Debbie’s breathing hitched, all other thoughts instantly forgotten.
His hand slid slowly down her midriff, the feel of his calloused palm against her smooth stomach causing delicious friction that sent a shiver spiraling through her.
His hand disappeared inside her jeans.
Her breath shuddered free, and Debbie sank back against Preacher and gripped his arm, her nails biting crescent moons into his skin.
This was… he was…oh my God.
Eyes rolling back, lids fluttering furiously, she was nothing more than a rolling boil of sensation, waves of heat rising and falling, but never quite cresting.
Afraid of making a sound, Debbie pressed her lips together tightly and turned her head. Preacher glanced down, his eyes dark, his expression hard, determined. Their eyes locked and her lips parted, dragging in a staggered breath.
And suddenly everything inside of her lit up all at once, her body drew up tight, and then… exploded.
Debbie sagged sideways, boneless and breathing hard, little more than a quivering bag of jelly.
Looking up, she found Preacher staring at her, his eyes half-lidded, his nostrils flaring wide with each heavy, hungry breath he took.
