* * *
Preacher had no idea why the schoolteacher was leaving the pub on her own, but he didn’t like it. She was little, and it was late and dark outside. Where the hell was her dickhead fiancé, anyway? Sure as shit, if Preacher had a woman like her, he wouldn’t let her be sitting at a table full of firefighters who kept looking her over like she was a piece of meat. He stared at the blue and green bracelet tied around his wrist before he swallowed down the last of his whiskey, pushed his chair back, and stood.
Nolan looked away from the television screen. “You leaving?”
“Just hittin’ the head,” he grunted.
He bypassed the bathroom and headed straight for the exit. He stepped out of the pub. The schoolteacher was walking across the parking lot, and he eyed her firm ass as he leaned against the wall.
He watched the schoolteacher slide into the passenger seat of her crappy little car. He was too far away, and it was too dark for him to see what she was doing but he kept watching her anyway.
He wondered idly what she looked like under those prim and proper dresses she was always wearing. She was a real lady. The kind who would never have anything to do with him, but it didn’t stop him from imagining her naked in his bed. She smelled so fucking good that day at the school. Jesus, he’d forgotten just how good a woman like her smelled. The women he took to his bed couldn’t afford fancy perfume. Fuck, half the time he wasn’t even sure they showered on a daily basis.
The little schoolteacher though, he bet she had a big tub in her place, one of those fancy ones with jets. He bet she took a bath every night, maybe even let her small-dicked fiancé fuck her in it. The thought sent jealousy shooting through him and he shook it off.
So the pretty lady with more class in her baby finger than any of the women he’d been with had been nice to him. Didn’t mean she wanted to fuck him. She was nice to everyone, that was apparent. Nice and sweet and polite.
What he wouldn’t fucking do to see her with her neat and tidy hair messed up from his hands, her perfectly applied lipstick smeared from his kisses, and her pale slender thighs spread wide around his hips. He’d fuck her until her politeness was gone, until she was pounding on his back and begging him to fuck her harder.
The schoolteacher slammed her car door and started walking across the parking lot. His gaze had dropped to her tits so when she suddenly stopped and swung around, he blinked in surprise. He stared at the four men standing behind her before cursing. His anger rising, he walked toward the schoolteacher, his long strides eating up the distance.
* * *
Addison’s scream was muffled against the man’s chest. She tried to squirm away, punching frantically at her captor’s hard chest.
“It’s okay,” he said.
She froze. The voice was familiar. She raised her head and stared up at the man holding her.
“Hello, Sunshine,” Preacher said in a low voice.
Relief flooded through her. It made her knees weak, and she sagged against him as he stroked her hair back from her face with a surprisingly gentle touch.
“Please help me,” she whispered.
He smiled reassuringly at her and turned her in his arms until her spine was against his chest. He kept his arm around her waist, his big hand gripping her hip possessively. She clung to his forearm, staring up at his face as he said, “Good evening, assholes.”
“Get lost,” the leader advised. “This don’t concern you.”
Preacher laughed. “You’re bugging my woman and it doesn’t concern me?”
“We didn’t know she was yours.” One of the other men tugged on the leader’s arm. “C’mon, Gary. It’s time to leave.”
“Yeah, Gary,” Preacher said. “It’s time to leave.”
Gary pulled his arm free. “No way she’s with you. Not a woman like her.”
Addison didn’t object when Preacher nuzzled his face into her hair. She leaned against him and tried to look like she belonged to him as he said, “The woman’s mine. Leave. I won’t ask you again.”
“There’s four of us and only one of you,” Gary said.
“Fucking Christ, Gary. Do you have a goddamn death wish? Look at that guy,” his friend said. “Let’s go.”
“You fucking pussy,” Gary said. “He can’t take all of us.”
“Yeah, he fucking can,” the third man said. “You’re just too drunk to fucking realize it.”
Gary glared at his friends. They were already starting to back away and he gave them a look of disgust before muttering, “pussies” under his breath. He turned and followed them to a large black truck.
As the four of them climbed in and started the engine, Addison continued to cling to Preacher’s forearm. His hand was smoothing up and down her hip and when Gary and the others roared out of the parking lot in a cloud of exhaust and dust, she jerked wildly.
“It’s fine, Sunshine. Let’s get you back inside,” Preacher said.
He released her and took a step back. He grabbed her hand when she swayed a little and she held it in a death grip. “My shoes. I – I need my shoes.”
He led her to where her shoes were, and she watched numbly as he bent and helped her slip into her heels. He grinned up at her. “There you go, Cinderella.”
She tried to laugh but all that came out of her was a weird coughing, hiccupping noise. Stupidly, tears were threatening, and she blinked them back grimly as Preacher stood and reached for her hand again. It was lost in his big one and she stared at their linked hands as he walked her slowly back to the pub.
When he reached for the door, she shook her head and dropped his hand. She backed up until she felt the cold brick wall against her back as the tattoo artist stared silently at her.
“I – I just need a minute,” she gasped.
Her head was spinning, and she felt sick to her stomach. If Preacher hadn’t been outside, if he hadn’t come to her rescue…
Her stomach roiled and she bent over, clutching at her stomach and willing herself not to vomit. If she threw up on Preacher’s boots, she’d die of shame. His warm hand gripped the back of her neck as he bent down and said, “Take deep breaths, Sunshine.”
She was feeling faint and there was a tightness to her chest that made her feel like she couldn’t breathe.
“Deep breaths.” The command in Preacher’s voice oddly enough got her lungs working again and she gulped in air as his hand kneaded her neck.
“Nice and slow,” he demanded.
She slowed her breathing, concentrating on pushing air in and out of her lungs and on the feel of his fingers massaging her neck. When she no longer felt like she was going to throw up or faint, she straightened slowly. He was still cupping the back of her neck and she stared up at him as he studied her.
She was suddenly aware of how close he was standing to her. Her breasts were nearly brushing against him and the heat of his body felt like it was warming her to her core. Her nipples tightened and her pussy tingled in an unfamiliar but decidedly enjoyable way.
Addison! Say thank you and leave!
“I – thank you for rescuing me,” she whispered.
He cocked his head and studied her for a moment longer before leaning down, his deep voice a low rasp. “If you were mine, you’d always be safe.”