Preacher

By Harley Wylde/Jessica Coulter Smith

Kayla: My twin brother, Johnny, practically disappeared when he started prospecting for the Dixie Reapers, and if I wanted to see him, then it meant going to the compound. I’d never been inside the clubhouse, wasn’t supposed to go there, but sometimes the devil on my shoulder prods me into doing things I shouldn’t. Johnny made it sound like there were drugs being snorted left and right and orgies, but that wasn’t what I found that night. I never expected to fall for a heartbroken man I could never have, a man much older than me. But that night, Preacher took me in his arms, claimed my virginity with a passion that left me seeing stars, and I knew that I’d made the right decision. Even if it did come back to bite me in the ass two months later. When I’d walked through the door that night, I’d never counted on being fucked by a super hot biker, and I definitely didn’t expect to end up pregnant!

Preacher: When I lost my family, before even prospecting for the Dixie Reapers, I’d closed off my heart and vowed to never let another woman in. A quick fuck here and there with the club pussy kept me sane, but no one would ever mean anything to me. Then the most tempting woman I’ve ever met gave me a night I knew I’d always remember, right before she disappeared. When she turns up two months later, I find her in the arms of one of the prospects. Fury hits me first, then she knocks me on my ass when she tells me she’s pregnant. With my kid. I turned away from God all those years ago, gave up being a minister, and signed my life over to the Dixie Reapers. I don’t know that I believe in a higher power anymore, but maybe it’s time I start praying again. Because giving this woman everything she needs, being the man she deserves, is going to take one hell of a miracle.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Changeling Press
• Release date: Jun 8, 2018
• ISBN: 9780844702728

Book preview

time…

Chapter One

Kayla

I wasn’t supposed to be here. Johnny had warned me away, telling me that the compound was no place for a girl like me. I nearly snapped his head off and reminded him I was a grown-ass woman and not some child. He was all of two minutes older than me, but acted like he was thirty and not nineteen. My twin brother was a pain in the damn ass, but I missed him. We’d done everything together, until he’d decided to prospect for the Dixie Reapers, then overnight, he was gone. All his time was tied up with club business, and he no longer came home to visit. He’d walked away from me, and it hurt like hell, especially since he damn well knew what life was like at home.

I didn’t have a car, and walking all the way to the compound hadn’t been fun, but as I approached the gates, I felt my stomach twist and turn. I’d met a few of the prospects from the times I’d shown up to see Johnny, but I’d never met the patched members, and Johnny wanted to keep it that way. He’d told me that what went on in the clubhouse wasn’t something I ever wanted to be a part of, and I’d avoided the place all this time, but as I heard the music blasting from inside I wondered if the temptation would be too great.

The hem of my denim skirt rode up, and I tugged it back down as I neared the gate. The prospect on the other side was one I’d met once or twice. He always leered at me and gave me the creeps, but so far he’d kept his hands to himself. His gaze caressed me in a way that suggested he’d like to do far more than look, and I tried to hold back my shiver of revulsion at the mere thought of his hands on me. It wasn’t that he was bad looking, but he definitely gave off a creeper vibe.

You here to see Johnny? he asked.

Yeah. Thought I’d surprise him.

Oh, he’ll be surprised all right. He’s inside, the prospect said, tipping his head toward the clubhouse. But then, you aren’t allowed in there are you? Too pristine for a place like that.

I’m not pristine, I snapped.

I might be a virgin in the strictest sense, but I was far from angelic. I’d never technically had sex, even though I’d given a few blow jobs and fooled around, but I’d used my trusty vibrator to take care of my virginity. I’d heard it would hurt, and no way was I trusting a guy with something like that. Especially not since the guys I knew were selfish and fumbling. No finesse whatsoever.

Just remember that you were warned. The gate slid open, and he motioned toward the clubhouse. Enter at your own risk.

That sounded like something the creepy guy in horror movies says right before the heroine does something incredibly stupid, like enter a house full of mass murderers, or choose the darkened pathway filled with deformed, dying trees instead of the brightly lit path. This was just a clubhouse full of bikers, one of whom was my brother. How bad could it be?

I stepped through the gate and made my way across the lot to the building with Dixie Reapers across the top in neon, and slowly climbed the steps. The noise from inside was even louder now, and I pushed open the doors, not sure what to expect. The way my brother talked, I half-expected naked women and orgies going on out in the open. My gaze scanned the room, but I didn’t see my brother -- or any orgies. The place was packed wall-to-wall with men and women in leather cuts with Dixie Reapers stitched across the back. Other than some smoking and drinking, I didn’t see anything wild going on. Not that those things were wild, but to hear Johnny tell it, all kinds of shit went down in here. They just looked like your average group of adults having a nice time.

No one paid me any attention as I moved farther into the room, but the fact I was the only one not sporting one of those leather cuts made me feel a little out of place. At least I’d worn my black top and not the red one I’d picked up first. Still, I didn’t exactly blend, even if some of the women present looked to be my age or close to it. I’d learned enough from Johnny to guess those were the old ladies. He seemed rather fond of the President’s woman, and I wondered if I’d ever get a chance to meet her. To hear Johnny tell it, the woman was up for sainthood. I didn’t think anyone could ever be that perfect.

At the end of the bar, a man sat alone, a line of shot glasses in front of him, and an old worn Bible nearby. I hadn’t taken the club for being religious, but then this man didn’t seem quite like the others. He wore the same cut as everyone else, but as I studied him, I realized he was more somber. There was almost a haunted look to him, as if he were trying to drown his demons in whiskey, or whatever he was drinking. I felt this pull, as if I were supposed to get closer to him.

Slowly, I made my way across the room and slid onto the stool next to his. He didn’t even so much as glance my way, but I could tell from the way his mouth tensed that he was more than aware of my presence, and didn’t seem to care for it. I didn’t know what he was trying to run from, and it was honestly none of my business, but I’d found that sometimes people just needed to be reminded