The Hollow (Preacher Brothers 4)

Her father didn’t care if she was happy, if she ever loved a man she was tied to, forced to be with. He only cared about himself.

And I knew in the end that would be what tried to keep us apart. But Petrov didn’t know who I was, not really. I was a motherfucking Preacher brother… and what I wanted, I got.

It might take the rest of my life, but I’d have Nadja as mine.

2

Frankie

I’d taken her to the outskirts of town, the little motel seeming a bit like it should be in one of those trucker horror movies, but I’d never let anything happen to her. I’d made quick work with the guy at the front desk, the asshole who owed me. He hadn’t given me any trouble, just handed me a room key, said it was the last one down the way, and left it at that.

I led us out, my heart thundering, my cock hard and uncomfortable as it pressed against my fly. I knew she was a virgin, something she told me between heated kisses one night. I wanted to make this good for her, sweet and soft, slow and easy like she deserved. But I’d been so wound up since the moment I saw her that I knew if I didn’t keep a tight leash on my arousal, this would be over before I was even inside her.

And coming in my damn jeans like a fucking teenager was the epitome of a mood killer.

We’d been in the motel room for the last half hour, both of us on the bed, me on top of her. We’d tumbled through the room and immediately attacked each other, lips on lips, hands roaming over skin. I was insatiable for her, knew I’d never get enough.

“God, you feel so good pressed against me,” I muttered and kissed a path along the side of her throat. “Are you sure about this, baby?” I licked and sucked, kissed and nipped at her flesh, and I felt goose bumps pop up along her arms and legs. She tasted sweeter than anything that had ever graced my tongue.

I adjusted my much larger frame over her and pulled back slightly so I could look into her eyes. For a moment, we just stared at each other. Nadja was so feminine, so petite where I was big, so womanly where I was masculine. I thrust against her, a groan leaving me and a gasp spilling from her parted lips. I could feel her heat through the denim of my jeans, my mouth watering at how wet I knew she was.

I braced my weight on my elbows beside her head and leaned in to kiss her softly.

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, Frankie.”

I groaned and pushed forward slightly, the length of my massive erection pressing against the most intimate part of her. I did this over and over again, unable to help myself. It didn’t matter that we were still fully clothed, tumbling into the room and falling onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and heated kisses. We’d been making out for so long my lips were tender, my cock so fucking hard I knew if I didn’t slow down, I’d come in my damn jeans.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m rushing you,” I murmured against her lips, kissing her again, because I couldn’t help myself. “I can wait as long as you need. I can wait forever.”

And that was the truth.

She shook her head and pulled me impossibly closer to her.

Nadja was sweet and addictive, and never had I wanted something as much as I wanted this girl.

I lifted up enough I got a good look at her face again, and my chest tightened at the way she stared up at me with those big blue eyes. Her dark brown hair was a sexy mess around her head, the strands fanned out over the pillow, the darkness in the room making the locks seem like spilled ink.

The moment I saw her all those months ago, I instantly felt this connection, like this string had been attached from my chest to hers, pulling us closer and closer. I’d seen her sitting on the patio of a café, her teeth pulling at her bottom lip, her focus on her phone. She’d been alone, and I literally stopped in my tracks.

I had to talk to her, to get to know her.

And so I did.

For the first time in my life, I felt this all-consuming need to know someone, to have my life intercept with theirs.

I expected her to tell me to fuck off, some random dude coming up and talking with her, wanting to get to know her, but I swore to fucking God when she looked in my eyes, I’d seen a spark behind them, as if she felt that connection too.