Preacher

by Dahlia West

  Promising to take orders and become a nun in her golden years, Erin reached for the drawer.

  And froze.

  Chapter Thirty-One

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  Jack took off his boots—and his sweaty socks—and headed quietly up the rickety stairs to the second floor.

  On the other side of the closed bathroom door, he heard the water from the shower…and heard the sound of Erin opening drawers. He grasped the doorknob, twisted it, and pushed in.

  Erin, bent over, rooting through a pile of hair accessories, yelped and jumped up.

  Jack grinned at her lazily, though he felt anything but lazy. “Sorry,” he told her. “Guess you forgot to lock the door. In a hurry?”

  Erin had ditched her work clothes for a bath towel that hung just at the tops of her thighs. She pulled it tighter around herself as she took a step backward. “T—taking a shower.”

  He reached out and touched the bottom corner of the towel.

  Erin jumped back, out of his reach. “You’re…you’re dirty,” she said, pushing his hand away.

  Jack grinned wider. “Oh, I’m pretty fucking filthy, Erin. So are you.”

  She was up against the wall now, and had nowhere else to go.

  Jack ran a finger over the edge of the towel, trailing her skin just below her collarbone. “All sweaty. Looks like we both need a shower.” He reached down and tugged at his shirt, peeling it off over his head. He tossed it to the floor and with one hand yanked at Erin’s towel.

  “Hey!” she shrieked.

  Jack picked her up around the waist and held her naked body against him as he stepped into the shower. The hot water pooled around his bare feet and he released Erin just long enough to push her up against the wall.

  She gasped and gripped his biceps, possibly to keep herself from falling, but there was no way Jack would let anything happen to her. He leaned in against her belly, trapping her with his denim-clad erection. He fixed his palms to the wall on either side of her and enjoyed watching as his little bird squirmed.

  If she’d gotten past the Hank incident enough to sneak away and jill off every fucking day, then Jack figured she was more than ready to step back into the mating game. The way she touched him just now in the kitchen, the way her pulse pounded in her throat when she’d gotten too close to him, told Jack she was ready for him.

  Water cascaded down over both of them, over Jack’s bare chest and Erin’s breasts, which were pressing against him, making them look plump and full. Jack growled in approval. “You look just as fucking good as I thought you would,” he told her. “What are you doing in here, Erin?”

  Her eyes flashed angrily, despite the precariousness of her situation. “I told you!” she snapped. “Taking a shower!” Her face flushed, though, and Jack didn’t think it had anything to do with the steam rising up around them.

  He grinned. “Don’t worry, then. I’ll get you all nice and clean.”

  Jack slid one hand off the shower wall and picked up the soap on the rack to his right. He palmed the bar and pressed it to Erin’s arm, just above the elbow. He ran it slowly up to her shoulder and across her chest, just above her breasts.

  She gasped.

  “What are you doing in here?” he asked again quietly.

  “I—”

  He bent suddenly and took a nipple into his mouth.

  He nipped it. Hard but not too hard. A tiny punishment.

  Erin cried out.

  “That’s for lying to me,” he told her. Jack righted himself and ground his pelvis into hers. “You get hot watching me, Erin?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead her breath became labored and her eyes widened.

  He couldn’t tell if she was turned on or afraid, or both. He figured it was a little of both, and yeah, it was wrong, but Jack had never minded that in a woman.

  He ran the soap over her breast, washing the nipple he’d just marked. He squeezed and kneaded it until a thick lather foamed through his fingers. Then he moved to the other one.

  “Jack,” Erin whispered, but didn’t fight him.

  He slid the soap down, across her belly and dipped between her legs. He watched her shiver despite the heat of the water beating down on them. “I think you do get hot, Erin. I think you get yourself all worked up and then you come in here and grab that little toy of yours, don’t you? That poor excuse for a real man’s cock. That thing I’d never let you own if I. Owned. You.”

  Jack lathered up both his hands, replaced the soap on the rack, and ran his hands over her hips, then to her firm little bottom. “You need me, Erin?”

  She whimpered against his shoulder.

  “You need me, you just let me know,” he demanded, fingertips massaging into her skin. “Don’t come in here, letting a toy do what I’d happily do for you. Understand? Tell me you need me, Erin. Tell me that pussy of yours gets wet whenever you look at me.”

  She looked up at him, eyes full of lust and trepidation. Her mouth opened, those sweet cherry lips parted for him, but she couldn’t seem to get out the words.

  Jack didn’t mind. He knew he was overwhelming her. He cupped his hand in the spray, rinsing it off, and filling his palm, then he reached down between her legs again. He parted her lips and rubbed gently. His fingers rasped over her clit, which was already standing at attention. He chuckled into her ear. “Yeah, you need me, little bird.”

  Erin gripped his arms and pressed herself against the wall. She spread her legs, though, giving him better access to all those soft, swollen parts—parts he knew were aching for him right now.

  He dipped into her, first one finger, to test her. She was tight, so fucking tight. Jack couldn’t remember ever having access to a pussy this tight. A groan escaped his own lips before he had a chance to bite it back. She’d be hell on his cock. Actually, heaven was probably more accurate.

  A tight, clean pussy, of the kind Jack hadn’t fucked in years. Hell, he couldn’t even recall what it felt like to drop a load in anywhere other than a condom.

  With his fingers, he pushed and tugged, pinched and rubbed, exploring slowly, possibly enjoying it as much as she was. He slipped a second finger in and scissored them, stretching her.

  Erin cried out.

  “Pathetic little toy,” Jack said with a chuckled. “Can’t even fill your pussy up for you. No wonder you’re all weak and needy…and humping my hand.”

  She gasped as she realized how much she’d lost control.

  Jack grinned at her wickedly and then pressed his thumb to her clit.

  “Oh, God!”

  “Come, Erin. Come hard.”

  Her fingers dug into his arms and she twisted her hips. “I can’t!” she cried.

  Jack took his hand away and replaced it with his cock. With his extra height, he lifted her up off her feet and pinioned her to the wall with his erection. “Come on this,” he growled.

  She did. She wrapped her legs around him and ground her pussy into his crotch. Her belly tightened, her breasts heaved, and her little snatch was probably throbbing, though Jack couldn’t feel that because he was too busy throbbing himself. He smiled as he thought about his jeans being soaked with her juices as well as the water from the shower.

  When she came down from her high, he lowered her feet to the floor of the shower and held her firmly for a moment before assuring himself that she could stand on her own.

  She sagged against the wall, bewildered but looking satisfied.

  “That toy of yours is long gone, Erin. And if you get any smart ideas about buying yourself another one and I find it? I’m going to shove it up your ass, right before I take you over my knee and spank the hell out of you. Understand?”

  She sucked in a sharp breath, eyes wide and fastened on him.

  “There’s a man in this house now, Erin.”

  He took her hand and rested it on his still-raging cock. “I’ll give you what you need. Whatever you need. All you have to do is ask.”

  He stepped back, out of the running shower, and p
lanted his bare feet on the rug. As he turned away he heard her say, “What…?”

  He glanced back.

  She looked nervous, unsure, and swallowed hard just before she spoke…or tried to. “What about…what you need?” She said the last part almost in a whisper, as if she was afraid of what would happen if she said it too loudly in his presence.

  A better man would have walked away and taken care of himself in the barn.

  Jack wasn’t a better man.

  He casually leaned against the wall even though his body was a livewire, pulsing with unspent energy and desire. He watched her carefully as he tugged on the button to his jeans. He suppressed a grin at watching her eyes go wide as he slowly slid his zipper down.

  His rock-hard cock sprang out from its wet denim prison.

  Erin gasped.

  It was quite a bit bigger than that toothpick she’d been using on herself. That was for damn sure.

  “Go to town,” he told her with an air of nonchalance that he absolutely did not feel. He actually struggled to remain still as Erin shut off the water in the shower and then approached him cautiously.

  Her little gasps, her soft moans as he’d fingered her had almost been more than he could take. It had been two months since he’d stumbled into Thunder Ridge and that was the longest Jack Prior had ever gone without a woman making him come. And he had never wanted any woman the way he wanted the woman coming toward him now.

  His cock jerked in anticipation. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops because his hands were about to start shaking.

  Erin’s hands were shaking as she took his shaft between her palms. She worked him pretty well, not expertly, but Jack liked that. He liked not being a chore or a procedure. He liked the way she squeezed him, unsure at first about how much pressure to apply. He reached down and covered her hand with his and showed her that he could take a lot.

  It was nice, her palms, her thumbs running over his slit occasionally, but he knew he couldn’t come this way. Not with Erin. He’d spent too many nights letting the dirty movie in his head play out with her as the star. He wanted more from her—so much more.

  He needed it.

  Jack knew he was a bastard for doing it, but he reached up, put his hands on her shoulders, and pushed her down toward the floor.

  Erin didn’t comply, not right away, but after taking a deep breath, she slowly sank to her knees in front of him.

  Jack had been dreaming about that mouth for the last two months and he was going to get it.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

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  Erin was a little surprised when Jack started pushing her to her knees, but considering the orgasm he’d just given her, she supposed she owed him.

  A lot.

  It had been a while, though, since she’d given head, and she hoped he wasn’t expecting much.

  She lowered herself to the bathroom rug and reached for that long, thick, beautiful erection. She suppressed a chuckle at the thought that she’d snagged herself her very own stallion. It took both her hands to cover the length of him and she squeezed, tugging at him gently.

  “Your mouth, Erin,” he demanded.

  It sounded authoritative enough, but Erin thought she detected a slight quiver in his voice. Minutes ago, she’d been on that knife-edge of need herself. She smiled knowing that Jack wasn’t quite as stoic as he tried to seem.

  To test his resolve, she didn’t use her mouth. Just her tongue, and only the tip. She leaned forward and touched it to the smooth underside of the head. She felt his whole body go rigid and smiled to herself again.

  She swirled the head once, torturing him just a bit, for fun. Then she parted her lips, just a scant inch, and slowly slid her mouth down over him. She saw him fist his hands at his sides. She gave the head an obscene, open-mouthed kiss before slipping it all the way into her mouth.

  She looked up at Jack, watching him watch her and felt a throb between her own legs, despite her earlier orgasm.

  His scent was musky, entirely male, and Erin wanted it all over her. Who knew? Maybe if she got all dirty, he’d wash her again.

  She took him deep into her mouth, sucking hard, and worked him in and out. She’d never had a cock this big in her mouth (or anywhere else). She had to go slow, taking him in by inches, adjusting to the heavy weight on her tongue. Jack seemed to know that she was doing the best she possibly could and thankfully didn’t grab the back of her head to shove in the rest of the way.

  Erin loved the taste of him, dark like spices, and pulled away a little so she could savor it. She licked the underside again, urging him to give her a headier dose. When that sweet drop of cream wept from the slit, she licked at it greedily. Her own cream started to flow again.

  Erin had never really gotten hot from giving a blow job, not the way she was right now, but that look Jack was giving her! Like it was taking every ounce of strength he had not to bury himself inside her. That look was like a zap of electricity on her clit.

  He lifted his hand and Erin thought surely he’d finally lost control. He was going to take her, right there on the bathroom floor.

  And, Heaven help her, Erin was going to let him.

  He didn’t, though. He surprised her by extending a finger and brushing gently down her cheek.

  She gasped at the tenderness of it, almost out of place in such a raw moment, but somehow so right. His dark eyes were liquid, molten as he gazed back down at her. For one brief moment, Erin felt a connection so intense that she hesitated, not knowing what to do. But as soon as it had sparked, it had died out.

  Jack was gone.

  Eyes closed, face turned away from her, fingers now hooked in his belt loops, he seemed to have no use for her now except to get the job done. Erin could have been anyone to him, and maybe she was.

  She tried to get him back. She sucked and swirled and took a decent bit of his length in her mouth, until it touched the back of her throat. She blew him like a porn star, hoping for another reaction. He tightened his fists, again. But that was all that she got.

  She felt his erection surge and she swallowed the thick jets of cum he pumped until he finally softened in her mouth. Erin felt deflated herself.

  A blow job had never felt more like a job.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

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  Jack hadn’t been able to watch her do it. Seeing her like that, on her knees, looking up at him… It was too much. If he hadn’t looked away, he might not have been able to hold on. Erin had been worshiping his cock like it was all she needed in life. She had been so hungry for his seed, for him, that he’d almost lost control.

  He might have blown his load all over her face and tits, and that would’ve been humiliating.

  Or he might have done worse.

  He’d touched her face for God’s sake. That was bad enough. He wasn’t a man given to tender moments with chicks while they were sucking him off. But then again, none of those women had been Erin. None of them had seemed to need him so badly, and none of them had looked up at him with those fucking gorgeous brown eyes flecked with gold.

  He took a deep breath, chiding himself for almost letting the whole thing derail.

  What would he have done? Stopped her? Taken her to bed? Then what? Put her on her knees again, doggy style? Take her ass like a club whore? None of those images sat right with Jack—not at all.

  Erin wasn’t Diamond, not by a long shot. And thinking about her now, sprawled in the dirt, pinned down by that motherfucker like she’d been that day, just seconds from being brutalized, there was no fucking way Jack could be rough with her.

  He swallowed though his mouth was dry and thought about the nightmares that still plagued his sleep. What if he snapped? Awake this time instead of asleep. What if, while he was fucking Erin, he thought about Diamond spitting in his face? About Hook’s crowbar? About Haze’s gun?

  He shook his head as though that could wipe away all his dark thoughts. He’d never let it happen.

  Erin needed to be prot
ected from all that.

  He’d cum in her mouth, too, and something about that had him rattled. He didn’t want to look at that too fucking hard right now, but something about that didn’t sit quite right, either. Jack had throat fucked a lot of whores in his day, but he couldn’t imagine abusing Erin that way. The thought alone made his guts churn.

  He slid away from her along the wall, tucking his dick back into his jeans and zipping up. Within seconds, his hand was on the doorknob and he was gone, putting distance between them before he did something else ridiculous.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

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  Erin wasn’t entirely sure she’d see Jack for dinner and didn’t know what she’d say to him if he did show.

  He appeared in the doorway at six o’clock, though, standing just a bit awkwardly. Or maybe she was just projecting.

  “It’s ready,” she said quickly, not trusting herself to say anything more than that. She set down a bowl of mashed potatoes on the table next to the chicken she’d prepared.

  Jack washed his hands at the sink, which ignited Erin’s memories from earlier. He caught her looking—the way he always seemed to—and smirked at her from across the room.

  The look put them back on more familiar ground, with Erin feeling sarcastically indignant about his sheer arrogance. Not that he was overcompensating. She knew that much at this point.

  Jack had a lot to be confident about, and Erin wouldn’t begrudge him too much after today.

  He really could be insufferable though, sometimes. Maybe she should stick to her toy. “So,” she said quietly as she slid into her chair, then cleared her throat. “Where…is it?”

  Jack gave her a look that sent shivers down her spine. Her breath caught in her throat and flames licked at her belly—and lower. “Why?” he demanded. “You need Round Two? Already?”

  Heat flushed her face all the way up to her ears. “No,” she protested. What woman would after the things he’d done to her in the shower? “I just—”