Preach

by K. Webster

  Curiosity niggles at me. When I glance up at Easton, I can tell he’s wondering about it too. I’m about to ask him if he wants to go when he starts guiding me through the throng of dancing bodies to the room Miles pointed at.

  We make it to the room and a bouncer lets us inside. It’s pitch black when he closes the door. The music is different in here. Techno or something. It feels electric and as though it’s pulsating through me to my bones. Someone touches my arm and I squeak. Easton pulls me to his side, his mouth to my ear.

  “I think this is some sort of orgy room or something. Stay close,” he growls.

  We blindly make our way through people that seem to be everywhere when suddenly white light flashes like a lightning bolt. It illuminates the room for a brief moment before darkness blinds us again. Bodies. Tons of naked, dancing, writhing bodies. It makes me nervous until Easton pushes me up against a wall. With my back to it, it feels safer.

  “I’m going to fuck you right here in front of all these people.” His hot breath against the shell of my ear sends currents of heat surging to my core.

  White light flashes again. I’m able to see his wild eyes for a moment before darkness shrouds us again. His palms slide up under my dress and he hooks his thumbs into my panties before dragging them down my thighs. I step out of them and immediately feel vulnerable and exposed. But his palms are all over my breasts, distracting me. His mouth finds my throat. Bite. Suck. Kiss. Nibble. He drives me insane with his teasing ways. My arousal is thick and making the inside of my thighs sticky with need.

  “Fuck me, Preach. Do it now. I can hardly stand it.”

  He grabs my ass roughly and lifts me up so that I’m shrieking in surprise. It takes him a minute to fumble with his jeans.

  Flash.

  I get a glimpse of his eyes. Feral. Untamed. Starved. And then he’s pushing inside of me in one hard thrust. I cry out and latch onto his neck with my fingers. He bucks against me with all these strangers around us. I close my eyes and get lost in the moment. One hand remains at my ass to keep me upright but his other one roams over my breasts and to my throat. His clutch on me is firm and possessive. Tiny thrills shoot through me. I want him to squeeze me there. As if attuned to my needs, he does. His grip tightens enough to make me see stars in the dark space. My pussy clenches in response which in turn makes him thrust harder. Squeeze harder. Grab my ass harder.

  Flash.

  Behind my closed lids, I get a glimpse of white light until it’s gone again. My orgasm is on the cusp of making me insane. So close. So close. He grips my throat even tighter and brushes his lips against mine. I can smell the spicy scent of liquor on his breath from the two shots he consumed. It makes me want to lick every corner of his mouth to taste it.

  Flash.

  And then I’m coming.

  No screams because he has them literally caught in my throat.

  All I can do is shudder, at his mercy, with pleasure until his own heat surges into me with an explosive intensity. His cum fills me up and selfishly I hope for a baby. We’ve been having unprotected sex for weeks now. It’s only a matter of time.

  “God, I love you,” he growls, his forehead resting against mine.

  “I love you too,” I rasp out the moment he releases my throat.

  He sets me to my feet but doesn’t return my panties. Hot cum trickles down the inside of my thighs. I love the slippery feel when I rub my thighs together. His head is down as he tucks his cock away when hot breath is on my ear.

  “Just can’t stay away from the older men, can you, Lacy?”

  My heated blood chills and freezes in my veins. Sean Polk.

  “What will everyone think when I show them the video of you fucking the preacher? Will he go to prison too?” he sneers, his spittle spraying my ear. His hand finds my breast through my dress and he gropes me painfully.

  I open my mouth to scream.

  Flash.

  I see so much in one moment on Easton’s handsome face.

  Surprise. Confusion. Fury. Hate.

  The darkness once again steals away my vision. But over the music, I can hear sickening crunches.

  Pop. Crunch. Crack.

  Flash.

  Easton is on the ground, straddling Sean, and his powerful back is tense as his muscles flex before he delivers a punch.

  Pop. Crunch. Crack.

  Flash.

  Blood on his fists. He pummels relentlessly.

  I manage to get ahold of my senses and grab the back of his shirt. “Easton! No!”

  He fights against me as he struggles to hit Sean again, but I manage to pull him back using all my weight. His massive body lands on top of mine. Rage ripples through him. I can feel it. Almost taste it.

  Instead of letting him go, I hug him from behind. As much as I hate Sean, I refuse to let Easton go to prison for assaulting him.

  Flash.

  Sean staggers as he stands, blood coating his face. I notice his phone near his shoe—lit up with a video playing of Easton and I fucking—before darkness surrounds us again. Easton shoots up to his feet while I scramble over to where the video playing is the only light in the room. A bigger, stronger person beats me too it, nearly knocking me out of the way, and I screech in surprise.

  Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

  Flash.

  Easton stomps on Sean’s phone over and over again.

  Then, I’m getting hauled into the two protective arms I love so much.

  “Let’s get out of here, vixen.”

  “What if they don’t approve?” Lacy asks, nerves making her voice quake.

  I give her hand a squeeze as we make our way into my parents’ house. “Of course they approve. I think they like you better than me.”

  She giggles but I meant what I said. Ever since that night when the Johnston boys assaulted her and my parents got involved, they’ve latched onto Lacy. I don’t know any other way to explain it. Mom watches her like a guard dog at church and enjoys taking her and her mother out to lunch often. Dad spends a lot of time in prayer with her after church. I don’t know what he says to her or what they pray about but she looks so serene. Both my parents adore her. The night after Lace and I showered at her house, my parents made it known that they didn’t approve of our age difference and the illegal nature of our relationship. Not that age matters anymore now that she’s eighteen. They did, however, approve of our love. And with Lacy, we have so much love, it’s infectious.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Mom says as she steps into the foyer. “You look gorgeous in that dress. Yellow brings out the blue in your eyes.”

  Lacy beams at her and then steps away from me to hug my mom. “Thank you, Lydia.”

  “Easton tells me we’re celebrating something. Did my boy treat you right this past weekend in the city?” Mom questions.

  I smirk and Lacy sends me a warning glare. I treated her real nice when I pinned her against the bathroom sink at the hotel I booked for us—while we were in New York City—with her blonde hair in my brutal grip and forced her to watch me as I fucked her from behind. It was erotic as hell.

  “He always treats me better than I deserve,” Lacy breathes.

  I laugh and give my mom a hug. “She deserves much more than me but I’m thankful she’s a blonde and hasn’t come to that conclusion yet.”

  She elbows me and Mom gives me a pinch. “You’re insufferable, son.”

  “I’m teasing,” I say with a wicked grin. “Lace is the smartest girl I know. Did you tell Mom what you did?”

  They know we went to New York for the weekend, but they think it was a romantic getaway. And while it was romantic, that wasn’t the real reason we’d gone.

  Lacy’s cheeks burn bright—and it’s not for the fact that she’s not wearing panties under her dress. “I finished Mikey the Majestic.”

  Mom’s eyes brighten. “Oh, how wonderful. When do I get to read the rest?” It warms my heart that Lacy shared her story with both our moms.

  “Actually,” Lacy murmurs,
her throat burning bright red. “It’s with an editor.”

  “At a publishing house,” I finish for my modest girl. “We met with the publisher on Saturday. They picked up Mikey the Majestic and better yet they want her to turn it into a series. A five-book deal, Mom. Lace didn’t want to say anything until we knew for sure.”

  Lacy had been worried when I suggested she submit it to a publisher. We scoped out some that fit her story, researched them to make sure they were legit, and then she wrote a letter explaining the emotions and heartache that went into writing her book. A reputable publisher snagged her up in a hurry. She was shocked. I sure as hell wasn’t.

  “Oh my word,” Mom gasps in delight. “This is wonderful news. A time for celebration!”

  She hurries from the room calling for Dad. Lacy turns and smiles at me. Despite all the crap she’s been through, Lacy is strong and resilient. She survived Sean Polk, Nolan Jenkins, and the Johnston boys. All men who saw her innocence as a weakness. Something to be devoured and destroyed.

  “You heard, Mom. Time to celebrate,” I tell her as I snag her wrist and pull her to me. I kiss her forehead as she brings her hand between us.

  “We didn’t even get to this part yet,” she murmurs.

  The diamond engagement ring on her finger glimmers beneath the foyer chandelier. I’d given it to her last night before I nearly plowed her into the hotel mirror. That’s how we celebrate.

  I tuck her into my side and then walk her into the kitchen where Mom is babbling to Dad about Lacy’s book deal. He’s listening intently, pride shining in his eyes.

  As my parents gush over my future wife, I can’t help but smile. Several weeks ago, we closed the Sean chapter on her life. We went straight to Sheriff McMahon and told him about Sean violating his restraining order. He located him that night and arrested him. The trial went quick once testimonies came out that Lacy wasn’t the only one he stalked after his release. He terrorized his ex-girlfriend who had his baby, as well as, a few other girls he’d molested. Judge Maximillian Rowe seemed almost gleeful to announce that Sean Polk was going back to prison.

  And I certainly was not.

  It still worries me that I blacked out that night. When Lacy and I got into the car afterwards, I’d come out of my haze. She had to explain all that happened. I went black with rage, much like I’d done against those three men in prison, and beat his face to a bloody pulp. Lacy says she likes knowing I can go into Hulk Mode—her words, not mine—when she’s threatened.

  “The Johnstons put up a ‘for sale’ sign in the yard last week,” Mom tells me, jerking me from my inner thoughts.

  My eyebrows raise to my hairline. “That so?”

  Dad nods. “Bobby apparently confessed what happened to them. It wasn’t until they received Lacy’s letter though that they put the house on the market.”

  I glance over to her and peace shines on her face. “What did you say?” I ask.

  She bites on her plump bottom lip for a moment. “I told Jennifer in detail what happened. How terrified I was. But…” She looks over at my dad and he nods. “I told her I forgave them. Bryce and Bobby for hurting me. Jennifer and Jay for taking their sons’ side versus the woman they victimized. I feel better getting that off my chest.”

  My sweet, brave, beautiful girl.

  “I’m proud of you,” I tell her, my lips quirking on one side. She reaches for me and my mom gasps. We get intercepted as my mom snags her hand.

  “Easton! You proposed to her?” Mom shrieks.

  Lacy and I both laugh. “I sure did,” I tell her, a smug grin on my lips. “She even said yes, believe it or not.”

  Dad chuckles and grips my shoulder. “You’re quite the catch,” he says, pride in his voice. “At least that’s what she tells me every chance she gets.”

  The rest of dinner is full of laughter, family, and fun. Even her mom shows up in time for dessert. Steph fusses over Lacy and with good reason. I can’t stop fussing over her either. Eventually my mom, ever the perceptive one, lifts a brow in question.

  “We’re not done celebrating yet are we?” she asks.

  Steph beams happily and shakes her head. “Not even close.”

  I sit down on the couch in the living room and tug Lacy into my lap. Steph sits beside us while my parents find their recliners. My palms protectively rub over Lacy’s still small stomach.

  “You guys are going to be grandparents.”

  “They handled that well,” Lacy says as she exits my bathroom, a towel wrapped around her supple body.

  My eyes are glued to the way her tits are barely contained in the towel. They’ve already started growing in the few weeks she’s been pregnant. I can’t wait to watch her body change and grow as it accommodates our baby.

  “You’re giving me the look.” Her hands are on her hips and she arches a brow up at me. Blonde hair that is usually golden and lighter, is darker being that it’s wet. She doesn’t look so innocent with that pouty bottom look trapped between her teeth.

  “What look?” I feign innocence. We all know I’m guilty.

  “That look. The I’m going to devour you very shortly look.”

  Smirking, I shrug and sit up to peel off my T-shirt. “I am going to devour you very shortly.”

  “You’re insatiable, Preach.”

  “Stop being so delicious, honey.”

  She beams at me. “I love you but are you sure you want me here?”

  My brows furl together. “Of course I want you here. You’re going to be my wife and you’re carrying my baby. The only place you belong is here with me. From here on out.”

  Her nervousness fades away as she walks over to the dresser that is now half filled with her things. Steph had been sad when Lacy moved in with me not even two days after we ran into Sean at the club. I think she’d seen the seriousness of me wanting to care for and love her daughter until the end of our existence. I did, however, ask Steph’s blessing when I wanted to propose to Lacy. She cried, took my cheeks in her palms, and told me thank you for bringing her daughter back to her.

  Lacy pulls a pair of silky purple panties from the drawer and drops her towel. My dick thickens and strains against my boxers seeing her perfectly round ass. I don’t know why she bothers with panties. I’m just going to take them off. I like seeing her bare and ready as often as possible. She gracefully slides them up her thighs.When she finishes, she turns to me. Tears shimmer in her eyes. My boner softens as worry niggles at me.

  “Come here,” I growl.

  She runs over to me and straddles my hips on the bed. I hug her to me so that our bare chests are pressed together.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m so happy. You make me happy.”

  I chuckle. “Happiness is a good thing, Lace.” Her list of things that make her happy is so long now that she has devoted a notebook to adding in entries. It’s something I sneak a look at often. At least once a day. Seeing what makes her happy makes me happy.

  “What if God takes this baby too?”

  I squeeze her and kiss her temple. “God doesn’t take babies,” I murmur. “You know this.”

  She nods. “I’m just scared.”

  “Have a little faith, honey. Everything is going to work out. I promise.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “With a love like this, how could it not?”

  She lifts up and stares at me with such adoration it’d knock me over if I weren’t already lying down. Her body rises as she sits on her knees. An offering. I’ll take it because I’m starved for anything she gives me. With a growl in my throat, I hook my finger into her panties and pull them to the side revealing her smooth pussy. She works my aching cock out of my boxers and positions it at her entrance. Then, she slides down until she’s completely seated on my cock.

  Pleasure zings through my body but it’s the look of unfiltered love on her pretty face that has my heart feeling as though it’s just been zapped.

  She fills up parts of me that were
empty.

  She makes me sin when I’ve vowed not to.

  She loves me so hard and I’ll die trying to prove that I love her even more.

  As she starts rocking on me, my entire body seems to flood with a peaceful sensation. She and I, we were meant to be. Always a part of the big, complicated plan. The big man upstairs knew what he was doing.

  Love finds a way.

  Love always wins.

  Love is everything.

  I clutch her beautiful neck and pull her to me. Our mouths crash, her teeth nicking my lip, and we kiss as though it will be our last.

  But it won’t be our last.

  It’ll be the first of many.

  This was always his plan. A broken girl and an ex-convict. Two people who were just jagged enough that they slotted together perfectly in a way no other two people could.

  God works in mysterious ways.

  One year later…

  “Can you grab Elias’s binky?” I ask Easton.

  He reaches into the diaper bag and retrieves the pacifier. Elias, now drunk on breastmilk, can barely keep his eyes open. He happily accepts his binky before his eyes fall shut. Sometimes I stare at him for hours. Especially in the middle of the night while Easton sleeps. Elias—with the same blue-green eyes as his daddy—is a miracle in our life. I understand now that God doesn’t take. He gives.

  “You’re crying.” Easton’s voice is gruff and it startles Elias. “What’s wrong?”

  I turn my eyes to my husband and blink away the silly tears. “Nothing. I’m just so thankful we have him.”

  He leans over and kisses my mouth. “Me too, honey. Me too.”

  Mom strolls into her living room carrying a basket of towels to fold. We came over to visit after church. She’s always good for a Sunday home-cooked meal. Especially after she and I tag team in the church nursery. Caring for all those babies—including my own—is taxing but I wouldn’t change a thing. Despite not seeing my husband preach to his steadily growing congregation, I enjoy being in the church nursery rotation.

  Easton sets to texting with his friend Dane. My gaze drifts to my mom. Today she’s beautiful, still in her church dress. She spends a lot of time at the gym keeping her figure. Where I’ve softened in areas due to childbirth, Mom remains tight and fit. She really is a knockout with her long golden-blonde hair, flawless makeup, and form fitting outfits that compliment her body. The spiked heels she wears make her at least four inches taller and elongate her already long slender legs.