With only one teaser Tuesday left before PREACHER MAN releases to the masses on June 26 I thought I’d share this little bit with Ruby fighting her attraction to the dirty biker.
Seduction and flirtation used to be her sport, her recreational play time, there was no cheesy line she hadn’t mocked and she knew every trick in the book for a man to get into her pants, but she’d been off her game for a while now. Hadn’t wanted to, more to the truth. As though something had gone from inside her, that hunting instinct of flirting with a pretty face, of sharing hot kisses and maybe more, but she felt it stir to life didn’t she… for him. That tiny little tickle of her thighs, the belly clench when she saw him, oh yeah, stirred awake alright. Dammit. She shouldn’t flirt or want to kiss that outlaw again, he was too cocksure, and would probably play the game better. Not when she knew he was bad news. The fuck ‘em and leave ‘em type. Bikers were notorious with their reputations for fucking, him more than most since he never hid what he was.
Still, she was attracted. Couldn’t help it.
No one is better than me at flirting. But that same little voice acknowledged this guy was so high on the food chain he had his own off-menu. She’d watched him for months prowl around the bar, looking for things to fuck and find them he did, so easily. He was friendly with it, that’s what threw her, none of the waitresses ever called him a bad name, the opposite, in fact, vying for his attention like he was Ryan Reynolds post-Deadpool. From what she could tell, the jerk wasn’t so jerky, and still, she hastened to guess he was not the guy to flirt with.
“Why is it a pity?” From the way her pussy clenched she was going to regret asking as he smiled and cocked his head to the side licking the very corner of his lip. Did he know the effect that had on her?
“I only tasted you once, Ruby, and already I want more. It shouldn’t have stopped at one kiss. You should invite me in and I’ll show you how much you’ll love me putting you on your knees.” He got right in her face like he was making to kiss her again and dammit she’d let him. Every bone melted in preparation for his mouth to attack, to take and plunder, already tasting him.
Oh, shit. She really would let him kiss her right here out in the street, maybe put her on her knees as he said. Her belly pitched forward, she was so wet she could feel it dampen her panties. “Fuck. Look at you, Ruby. I didn’t know how much you’d want it. I hoped as much as me. You’re hot, aren’t you? Aching? Tell me. Let me make it better,” he only touched her lightly, low on the waist but she felt branded by a hot poker. His fingers didn’t grip and yet she was in his grasp as hard as if he’d clicked handcuffs around her wrists.
Some sea swept shit was happening in her belly.
Unused feelings all came rushing over her, swamping her. She’d never felt this overpowered by desire and thirst before, for lack of a better word. Ruby took three measured small inhalations before she felt like she could speak past the heady intoxicated excitement nestled in her chest.
Fuck love. Love hurt and controlled. But chemistry? That she could deal with. And she was feeling a whole lot of that sweet smell between them.
“Look, it was just a stupid kiss, no need to make a big deal out of it. You enjoyed it, and so did I.”
His fingers tightened on her waist then, dug in, she almost whimpered.
Preacher Man on pre-order right now.
It’s only TWO WEEKS until this bad boy is released into the world on April 3. Here’s a sneak at a good girl unable to resist a very bad man.
It was Oscar Wilde who said to yield to temptation or forever yearn for the forbidden. And it was Scrooge McDuck who said more is better.
How could anyone truly resist Rider and not go back for seconds and thirds? Zara could ponder on that question for a decade and still not have an answer. He was a tall drink of biker water in a long lean glass with an added bad boy straw she just wanted to slurp on for hours. For weeks, he had broken her resolve, placing himself in such a way she’d began to drop her fear. Or maybe he’d just battered it down.
She didn’t know which.
The longing had become unbearable to the point she had to give herself pep talks ‘don’t lick his face’ ‘you can’t rub on him like a cat in heat’
Why she put these restrictions on herself she’d hadn’t examined that far, she knew from the look in his eyes whenever they landed on her he had been more than up for … rubbing and licking.
She’d been scared and he still was a dangerous man.
The only guy she’d wanted from the moment she’d seen him, that instant electric attraction, had wanted for forever afterwards, it seemed as so, the only sexual experience she’d enjoyed and the dense moment she realized he wanted something with her again she’d been apprehensive that if they tried to pick up where they left off she would be launched back to the days of the Rebels and recoil instinctively away from Rider’s touch.
Fear was a wicked monster clinging to every insecurity, whispering the harshest things.
And salvation could also be dirty.
It was better not to have then to be afraid of the could be’s she’d told herself all the while keeping him at arm’s length and yet using him for his uncompromising protection. She’d passed the previous days growing stronger understanding Rider watched her not only to keep her safe but for something altogether more personal and carnal, her mind whirred through its normal cycle of guilt and self-loathing even as she was as intrigued by him in return, coloring her thoughts in shades of black.
Circling each other like animals.
With one kiss Rider, had knocked her resigned undertaking on its bony ass and now she lay under him panting out of breath, her heart pounding behind her ribcage, pleasure so acute she was still feeling it through her system minutes later as she tried to grab onto any sane thought.
The man knew sex. Wow.
Jesus, who knew good sex could make a woman lose her mind? If Zara ever caught her breath again she was going to patent whatever voodoo sexy magic Rider was playing with because he’d reached inside and took every insecurity she had until all she craved was him in this naked sweaty form drenched in their pleasure.
It had been impossible to get away from her own darkness. Or so she thought.
Here she was basking in the light of a beautiful bad man.
Rider had taken it all, every secret corner of her broken being, and burned it down into the hottest passion.
Her skin sizzled.
She felt … glorious.
Dirty Salvation. Copyright © 2017 V. Theia. All rights reserved.
Another Teaser Tuesday and another look at those Renegade Souls MC boys. Sometimes they do really bad things… for good reasons.
On Sale APRIL 3.
“Prez. All set?”
Tension rode down Rider’s spine as he gave the single nod to his boys. This was not his first kill, he’d done a lot of bad shit in his life if his path was traced back to when his went awry then it would travel back to when he was fourteen, the day his father decided his boy would become a Souls prospect.
It wasn’t though Rider was made bad, he just decided on that path, there wasn’t any stumbling the wrong way, he deliberately, meticulously made all his decisions, knew exactly what he was doing.
The standard doesn’t always have to be a bad person who makes the bad decisions, sometimes a bad decision is all you have because of situation you are in.
Rider never believed in luck, or fate, or destiny. You got what you put in and by god from the age of fourteen he had put in his all, to get where he was, to own his small part of the world.
Rider was a legend in his domain for what he’d achieved in such a small amount of time.
And he wasn’t going to let one dickbrain like Hades try to take it away from him.
History books never told the truth of wars, and battles, not really.
It was a condensed version of heroes who won in the end, never telling their journey.
Whatever Rider’s choices, those bad decisions that turned him into the bad man he was today, all led him to tonight.
He felt it in his bones, the way calmness came down over him when he and his men forged forward, breaking and entering like the criminals they were.
Each one of his men had a role to play and it was executed beautifully.
Murder was an ugly business to be in. But some bad men had to do it.
Rider’s men were the worst.
As he moved through the unkempt building the Rebels called home, the stench of weed and unwashed bodies from every corner, the darkness enveloped him, he listened to sounds of death, his boys didn’t waste time.
There was only one he sought.
The dicksucking president.
So far, his office stood empty, cocaine scattered over a desktop, piles of waste paper on the floor, the guy lived in a dump, the bedroom marked PREZ was barren. There was no way Hades had known the raid was going to happen, Rider had kept it so tight not all of his club knew about it, his core men who he trusted with his life.
When Death happened to knock on your door, the fight or flee came into play.
As it was, noise escalated as the Rebels tried to fight back.
Too little too late, death would come even as they struggled.
He smelled blood. A lot of fucking blood.
I know you’re here, you shitfuck. Rider prowled. A grim reaper stride, weapons gripped in his hands.
A streak of darkness slipped by Rider in a hallway, he recognized Hawk’s leather coat flapping at his hips. A second later the distinct sound of death, a startled gargle of noise before the wet noise of a knife being plunged harder into a body.
Hawk exited the room, his teeth gleamed brilliant white as he smiled at Rider, his voice was low “Another one bites the dust. Fun times at the zoo.”
Murder always put his VP in a good mood, he slapped Rider’s shoulder and moved out.
Get in. Get out. No lingering.
Dirty Salvation. Copyright © 2017 V. Theia. All rights reserved.
A tiny snippet from a chapter of the upcoming DIRTY SALVATION. When a biker falls for a really GOOD girl.
With lightning speed she grabbed a package of Clorox wipes from where they were kept beneath the sink, wiping the chrome colored counter from one end to the end with vigorous frantic motions, her head going to the door every few seconds, making sure to give it an extra scrub over by the toaster.That poor abused toaster.
She heard Rider chuckle and she sent him a vicious glare. How was he so calm right now leaning up against the table, bare feet crossed, jeans zipped but not buttoned?
Sexy as a God.
A chest so wide it would take her a week to cross it with kisses. When she watched him lick the corner of his mouth her belly clenched over the dangerous sexuality of the gesture.
Smugness all over his face.
The moment of staring went on forever.
“What the fuck you doin’, Icy?”
“What does it look like! We just had sex on this counter!” As if it explained. Duh. Her voice was hushed, desperate to finish wiping it down before anyone came in, saw her red face and guessed exactly what Rider had wanted for his breakfast
“I know. I was there. And?”
My god he was dense. “People eat here. I don’t want them to have my —”
“Your sweet fuckin’ juices” he supplied for her when he saw she was struggling. His lips twitched amused.
“Ugh!” she kept scrubbing as he laughed until the countertops gleamed her reflection.
Rider caught her around the waist, drawing her into his body, her arm instinctively wrapped around his waist, snuggling in, hiding her face. She grew shy after sex, as though the orgasms allowed her hedonistic side to be as wild and noisy as she liked, but retreated once the pleasure waned.
It made it equally worse when Rider never once showed the same signs. He was long and loose, his body so warm she could have burrowed there for a while, and he didn’t care when his brothers began piling into the kitchen seemingly not caring their president was there half naked with his half naked girl either, his eyes were just for her.
She turned her face into his chest really wanting to escape.
“Hey.” he used a finger to tip up her chin. Meeting his gaze, she was punched with feelings, “you were fuckin’ beautiful, Icy.” He spoke for her ears only, and kissed her once, twice, and then deeper, she fell into it by opening her lips, stroking his tongue until —-
“Yo, Prez, if we’re getting a show at least wait until I make my bacon and can get comfortable, I mean she got some pipes on her, we all just heard, so we gotta have snacks for this.”
Rider laughed but told Preacher to shut his fucking mouth. Zara used the moment to escape back to her room. Red as a cherry tomato.
He thought she was beautiful. Feminists would mutiny, but she thought it was the nicest thing she’d ever heard.
Their lives might run in opposing directions, but with sex, they were on the same page, the same sentence every time.
It’s the deepest of heavens
She smiled for the rest of the day.
Copyright © 2017 V. Theia. All rights reserved.