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The Preacher’s Virgin Daughters #6
Copyright © 2013 Kelli Wolfe
Published by Pink Parts Press
All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be reproduced in any form or by any means, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review, without permission in writing from the publisher.
All characters in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters depicted are 18 years of age or older.
The flip side of wanting Ty to be more like his father was that somehow she didn’t think it would be nearly as easy for her to tell Mr. Wright no.
Katie is the preacher’s youngest girl, and she tries hard to be good no matter how difficult it is becoming to say no to her boyfriend Ty. When his patience runs out and he dumps her and humiliates her, the young girl is devastated.
But there is someone else who has been watching this drama unfold. Evan Wright is ten times the man his son is, and he’s determined to go where Ty never could. Can Katie say no to the man who is better than his son in every way, or will Evan be the one who claims the innocence of the preacher’s last daughter?
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“Last dance, folks!” the call boomed out from the stage.
It was 10:30 and the 85th Annual Briarwood Hollow Street Dance was about to wrap up. As the band kicked off a slow song Ty pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her waist. With a little sigh Katie snuggled against his chest and swayed slowly to the music, adrift in the warmth of his arms and the seductive spice-and-cedar of his cologne. Her boyfriend was a really good dancer and she was more than a little worked up, her body humming with a delicious longing. So far this had been their best night together and she didn’t want it to end.
Ty tilted his head and nuzzled her ear with his lips. “You want to come back to my place?”
She looked up at him and saw the familiar hunger simmering in his dark eyes. It made her shiver, for she knew exactly what he wanted and the thoughts that were running through his head right now. Going to his place was like playing chicken—she never knew if she’d be able to pull away in time. He wanted her and so far she had been able to say no, but his hands on her body felt so good that it got harder and harder to stop him each time. If she had any sense she’d call it a night and go home.
“Okay, but just for a little while,” she heard herself reply.
He took her hand and led her back to his truck, where he opened the door for her and helped her step up into the cab. The grin he gave her when he climbed into the driver’s seat was full of wicked promise, and as he pulled away from the curb she scooted over to lean into him. Before they had even gotten past the Hollow’s single traffic light and into the comfortable darkness off the main street Ty’s hand was on the bare skin of her thigh, gliding slowly upwards beneath her skirt.
Letting him do it was wrong; she knew that and she flushed with guilt as his fingertips brushed the edge of her panties, but she had come to crave the touch of his fingers on her skin over the last few months and just the thought had her wet and quivering already. A shudder rippled through her as he teased her through the thin satin, and she let her eyes close and her head sag limply back against the top of the seat.
Impatient fingers pushed past the fabric and dipped between her slick folds, searching until they found the opening to her sopping little tunnel. Katie whimpered as his middle finger circled her entrance, each movement sending pulses of heat sizzling straight to her core. Blood thrummed and the pressure soared inside of her until she didn’t think her body could possibly contain it any longer.
She gasped as his finger moved away, leaving a hollow ache behind as it trailed fire along her lips and zeroed in on her clit. At the first touch her hips bucked and all the air in her lungs hissed out between her teeth. Katy reached down and grabbed his wrist.
“Stop,” she pleaded. “Not here.”
His grin gleamed feral in the dim light. “All right. It’ll wait until we get home.”
Evan Wright looked up from the TV at the sound of a key rattling in the front door. Not even 11:00 yet—Ty was home early. He sighed, earnestly hoping that his son had come home alone.