Preacher (The Untouchables MC 5)

Slowly, very slowly, I pulled myself free of her body. I left the room to get a washcloth, cleaning her and then myself. And then I found the key and unlocked the shackles.

“How long were you planning to keep me locked up?”

I glanced over my shoulder to see a tousle-haired beauty leaning on one shoulder. She was smiling at me like she knew I was a devil and she loved me, anyway.

“I wasn’t quite sure,” I said, freeing her ankle and rubbing the skin with my hands. “Connor had Cass locked up for a week or two, I think.”

Cynthia’s smile faded.

“Jesus, what did she do with herself?”

“That girl loves reality TV and junk food. I think Connor was the one suffering.”

“Suffering? Why?”

“Because they hadn’t done the deed yet. He had it bad for her, and she was right there under his thumb, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because she was very young.” I gave her a wry look. “And Mason would have murdered him.”

“So, what happened?”

“He married her and made Mason his father-in-law, more or less.”

She fell back on the pillows and lazily twirled a strand of her hair.

“Are you hungry, sweetheart?”

“No.”

“I owe you an explanation.”

“For what?”

“For who I am. For why I am the way that I am.” Her eyes widened, but she didn’t argue. I’d meant to tell her the story a long time ago, but I’d held back. Now it was time. “But first, I want to show you something.”

“Something good?” she asked with a pretty pout.

“Yes, darlin’.” I chuckled. “Something very, very good.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Cynthia

“It’s so green here,” I breathed as Preacher led me down a well-worn path. He had towels and a bottle of water in one hand. His other hand gripped mine, the rough calluses sending tingles up my arm.

The man pretty much oozed sex appeal nonstop. Everything about him, from his long hair and chiseled features to his well-used hands, spoke to me. Some deep, hidden part of me had known from the very beginning that he was going to rock my world.

And had he ever. He’d turned my life, and my ideas about myself, upside down. He’d shown me who and what I could be, and ‘she’ was more than I’d ever imagined.

It was amazing and kinda scary at the same time.

No wonder I’d been kicking and screaming the whole way.

“I love it here,” he said quietly. Who knew the man who loved tequila and a cigar more than food would have such an appreciation for nature. I let out a sound of pure awe as we came to a clearing. In the center was a collection of large, flat rocks surrounding a steaming pool. You could smell the minerals.

“Hot springs?”

He nodded, squeezing my hand.

“Nobody knows it’s here. It’s on my land, so we are totally alone.”

He led me closer and put a towel on a rock.

“Sit,” he instructed, removing my shoes and socks. I was wearing one of the warm, oversized flannel shirts that had been in the closet and no pants. My jeans were long gone, cut off my body at the very beginning. He’d been right about my not needing clothes, I realized with a blush. “I read that you shouldn’t take hot baths when you’re pregnant. It’s not really hot, but I think maybe just your feet, sweetheart.”

I nodded and dipped my toes in. He was right. It wasn’t scalding or cool. It was just right. I sighed with pleasure and watched as my man stripped and stepped deep into the pool. He disappeared under the water and then reappeared, reaching for my feet, which he immediately began to rub.

“That’s nice,” I murmured in appreciation. I leaned back and my hands touched the soft moss carpet that covered most of the ground here. You really could take a nice nap on the stuff, it was so clean.

Well, other than the bugs. I hadn’t seen any yet, but I knew they were there.

I decided to stick to the towel and sat up again.

“A while back, I promised I would tell you what made me so angry at God that I turned my back on my training.”

I nodded, realizing I was finally going to get a glimpse into the real Preacher, the man who had changed so completely so long ago.

“I may have turned my back on the church, but I never turned my back on God. I faced him, day after day, hour after hour. I never stopped loving him. Drink some water,” he added, and I did. The cool green of this place, the smooth stones, his noble features . . . there was something almost holy about it.

“Growing up in the neighborhood, none of us had very much. Paul grew up on the same block. He was a quiet kid, but we played together. Stick ball. That kind of thing. But he was always closer to her.”