Sugar (The Henchmen MC Book 12)

by Jessica Gadziala

The growling noise he made sent a thrill through me.

  It lasted a split second before his hand curled into my hair, yanking me up by it.

  "No fair," I hissed as I went up on my hands and knees, then just my knees when he kept pulling. "You don't have any hair to pull."

  "Sucks for you," he said, smirking as his hand let up slightly.

  "You seem better," I observed. His hand released my hair, going to the back of my neck and massaging the sting.

  "You got that effect, I guess."

  "You... guess? I must not be on top of my game."

  "Baby, don't," he demanded, shaking his head at me, smile gone.

  "Don't what?"

  "Fish for compliments. You're better than that, and you fuckin' know it."

  "I wasn't doing that."

  Was I?

  Shit.

  I think I was.

  He was right; I didn't do things like that.

  In general, I didn't need it. I was confident, sure of who I was as a person, as a woman, as a lover. I didn't need men to pat me on the back and tell me I did a good job.

  But that was what I was trying to get out of him.

  "Didn't imagine you would," he agreed, letting me save my pride even though he absolutely knew I had. "You know you're a great fuck, Peyt," he added, hand moving down my neck. "Figure that goes without saying, but I'm saying it."

  "You're a pretty great fuck too, Sugar," I told him, sliding up his lap, my arms winding around his neck. Then, the unthinkable, my lips pressing down on his.

  I didn't make out with men after I had already gotten my jollies.

  That was a thing of intimacy.

  I didn't get intimate.

  But there was no denying it was that as his hands closed around me, as his head tilted, as I sighed into him.

  Intimate.

  And it wasn't what I expected - scary or strange or suffocating.

  It was something else, something other, something I couldn't put a name on.

  But it was warm.

  It was warm, and it started at the base of my spine and moved upward, through my chest and heart, my throat, my head. It overtook me completely.

  A sound, low, whimpering made its way through me as well, vibrated from my body into his. At the sound, his arms tightened around me, gave me a squeeze that made my belly go all mushy.

  Mushy.

  I couldn't be mushy.

  Mushy was dangerous.

  I couldn't do dangerous.

  I had to do careful.

  It was foreign freaking territory for me.

  No one would ever accuse me of being careful.

  But I had to at least try.

  I pulled back, reaching for his phone.

  "Unlock it," I demanded.

  He didn't ask.

  He didn't even pause.

  He reached for it, plugged in a passcode, and handed it to me.

  "Let's see who you are buddies with, shall we?" I asked, shamelessly opening his contacts and attempting to scroll through. But there were no contacts. "How do you have no one in your contacts?"

  "Crazy thing you learn when you're a criminal, you don't link yourself with other criminals that can be used against you."

  "So you... what? Just know everyone's numbers by heart? That must be at least two dozen people with your brothers and their wives."

  "Something like that," he agreed with a nod. "Plus the Chinese and pizza places in town," he added.

  "You think with your stomach," I accused.

  "Says the woman who ate three helpings of that bomb ass pasta shit last night."

  "I have learned to wear elastic banded pants to Sunday dinners," I admitted.

  "Sunday dinners?" he asked.

  "Oh, at the Mallicks. Charlie and Helen's house? It's tradition. My sister is with Eli."

  "Yeah, I know."

  "And, I don't know... I guess they kind of adopted me."

  "Of course they did," he agreed, snagging my chin for a second. "How jealous should I be of these dinners?"

  "Pea-green with envy," I told him, smiling as he groaned. "This weekend is Italian. I have to go early to bake desserts with the women."

  "Smuggle me out a cannoli."

  "Only if you come up with three cannoli innuendos by then. I will give you my number," I said, reaching for my phone.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Calling you, so you have my number in your log to call back."

  "Just add yourself to my contacts," he said. Casually. Without thinking about it. Like it was the most natural thing, this man who didn't keep anyone in his contacts. Not even his best friend.

  "I get to be a part of a lot of firsts for you. Your wine cork virginity. Your phone contact virginity."

  "Quit running your mouth, and put your information in there already," he said, doing it with one of those slow, sexy smiles of his.

  "Oh, you sweet-talker, you."

  "What time do you get out of Sunday dinner?"

  "Depends. Everyone with kids tend to file out early. Sometimes me and the Rivers hang back to help clean up, or just bullshit."

  "How about you skip the bullshitting?"

  "And do what instead? I do like bullshitting," I added, it being true, but also, for some reason, wanting him to talk me into seeing him as I climbed off his lap and dropped down next to him.

  "Well, then bullshit with me," he suggested, shrugging. "After I fuck you silly," he added, slowly curling up, fetching his clothes, and shrugging back into them.

  "I guess I could be persuaded with that incentive," I said coyly as I watched him bend to slip his boots on, feeling a big - okay a huge - knot in my stomach at the idea of him leaving. Even if that was crazy.

  "Good. I'll text you," he added, reaching to take his phone out of my hands and tuck it into his back pocket. I thought that was that, but then he snagged my chin, pulled me until I went up on my knees, and kissed me hard and deep for a long moment before releasing me, and moving toward the door. "If you forget the cannoli, I'll bring you to the edge ten times... and not let you come," he warned me in parting, closing the door quietly on his way out.

  I went to sleep a mix of orgasm-content, a bit lonely, and excited.

  But where I would normally be excited about a bake-off with the girls, I knew that this time, it had nothing to do with them.

  And everything to do with a biker who maybe, just maybe, as Jamie had said, was simply the right person at the right time.

  "Earth to Peyton," Scotti said, throwing a plastic measuring spoon at me from across the island.

  "Yeah, seriously," Lea added, parts of her dark hair white with flour from where Fee had thrown it at her. "What is up with the spacing out today?"

  And then it happened.

  Savea's poker face - or complete lack thereof - failed her yet again.

  She didn't know as much as Jamie did. But she knew about Sugar. She knew he had been around every night for the past several nights. She knew that I had gone out drinking with him. And that I had cooked for him.

  She knew things weren't normal.

  "Uh-oh," Fee said, eyes twinkling. "Look at Savvs. She is trying to keep a secret from us," she informed the group of women.

  "Don't pick on her," Dusty demanded, always trying to stand up for the underdog.

  "I'm not picking on her," Fee insisted. "I just want to know what she knows. It's about Peyton, right?" she asked as Autumn caught my eyes from where she was placing Italian Wedding cookies onto a cookie sheet. I knew that look too. That was her upset look. Because she was used to always being the one in-the-know in my life. But since she had moved out, clearly Savvs and Jamie had gotten to be the ones who were the first to know everything. And that hurt her.

  "I have nothing to say," Savvy said in a completely unconvincing tone, holding her flour-covered hands up defensively.

  "I think you have a lot to say," Fee countered. "Did Peyton do something illegal again?"

  "I am not a delinquent!" I insisted, bu
t everyone just laughed at that.

  "You have a colorful criminal record that says differently, hon," Helen said, giving me an affectionate one-armed squeeze as she moved past me.

  "And it has been a whole three months since someone got a call from the police station," Scotti piped in. "That has to be a new record."

  "She hasn't been getting into trouble," Savea insisted, always wanting to defend me... even when I was, indeed, in the wrong.

  "What else could be such a secret then?" Fee wondered, tapping a wooden spoon against her thigh. "Did she get something else pierced?"

  "Not that I know of."

  "I'm as pierced as I am going to get," I informed them. They knew that much. I had told them all, in bright, vivid detail, all about the time I went to the tattoo shop to try to get my hood pierced, had gotten all naked and spread eagle, then chickened the hell out.

  "You didn't fuck Brodie, did you?" Fee asked, giving me pleading eyes. "I know you've been flirting for months."

  "I flirt with everyone," I insisted, feeling my stomach start to twist in knots as they were getting closer to the truth. To my side, I could see Jamie refilling my glass with more white wine. We knew what was coming. And we needed lubrication for it.

  There was no way it wasn't coming out.

  These women were too nosey, too demanding, too relentless.

  They wouldn't stop until they got it out of one of us.

  "So that's a no," Autumn said, small-eyeing me a bit, trying to read me. "If she'd fucked him, we would have heard dick measurements by now. And what his accent sounds like when he dirty talks."

  "But it is a man," Helen decided, looking at me hard too. Never, not once, did so many people look at me like they were trying to see inside me. It was off-putting, to say the least.

  "But since when are men ever a secret?" Lea asked, shaking her head.

  "When they are more than just a good fuck and a juicy story," Helen supplied, always keen, always the first one to see underneath the bullshit.

  "No way!" Fee said, turning to pin me with those green eyes of hers. "Do you... have... feelings for a man?"

  "Who is he?" Autumn asked almost at the same time.

  Even Dusty forgot how she normally wasn't one to pry, because her next words were, "This is so exciting. Where did you meet him?"

  Ugh.

  This was painful.

  Excruciating, really.

  Because, on one hand, I did want to dish. I wanted to bullshit and laugh with them, to share this with them, like I shared all my other conquests. But Sugar, I was starting to accept, was more than just a conquest to me.

  We also couldn't forget the fact that I wasn't supposed to be involved with him. Because if the men found out, shit would hit the fan.

  "Look," I said, shaking my head, trying to head this off before it got out of control. "It's nothing. Really. I just have a new... fuck buddy situation. That's all. And to answer your question," I said, turning to Dusty, "I gave him a ride home."

  "His car broke down?" she asked.

  And, well, apparently Fee had been looking at Savea whose gaze went downward. "No?" Fee asked her. "His car didn't break down."

  "It broke down," she said, trying to make up for her too-expressive face.

  But goddamn Helen with her eagle eyes and mama-bear-wisdom was on top of it.

  "It wasn't a car," she said, eyes going to me.

  And I knew she knew.

  And, in a moment, so would they all.

  "Sorry," a male voice said from behind me, making me jolt slightly. "I am not interrupting," Kingston added. "I just need to pick up something from Charlie."

  "What is that!" Savea asked in a weird voice I couldn't place, making me turn around to face King.

  Who, of course, looked as stupidly hot as ever.

  Even me, clearly hung up on Sugar, could appreciate that.

  And the that to which poor Savvs was referring?

  Yeah, that was a puppy.

  A cute as all hell... puppy.

  In his arm.

  I reached out, pulling her to my side, wrapping my arm around her hips. "Are your ovaries okay? Or do we need the bomb squad?"

  She made a low, whimpering sound, leaning the side of her head against my shoulder.

  Not only did she have a crush on King, but... well... now he checked off all of her boxes by getting a puppy. That she could play with. Since she couldn't have her own.

  "Hey Savvs," he said, giving her a smile that clearly melted her panties on sight. The poor, celibate thing. She had no defenses against him. "I have to stop by your store to pick up some treats for him. When is the next time you're working?"

  "Tomorrow," she said in this strained, quiet voice. "What's his name?" she asked, clearly not able to help herself.

  "Doesn't have one yet. There was some adoption fair in town this morning. The lady practically threw him at me."

  And herself, I was sure.

  "He's cute," she said as King moved closer, holding him out so she could pet him.

  "Maybe you could help me with a name too," he suggested. "I have nothing."

  I looked over at Autumn, both of us sharing a smile that communicated a lifetime of sisterly secrets. Like how the two of us had been rooting for Savvs to end up with a Rivers, to officially become a part of the family too. Her crush on the lot of them was just too cute not to be fulfilled.

  "Did I hear King..." Charlie started, coming into the kitchen. "There you are," he said, making Savea's hands fall from the puppy so Kingston could move away.

  "Completely exploded, right?" I asked as she took a deep, steadying breath.

  "I no longer have ovaries," she agreed, moving toward the sink to wash her hands as the men moved back out of the kitchen.

  I thought it would be enough.

  Savea nearly crying over a puppy.

  And puppy-dog-eyeing King.

  But no.

  Oh, no.

  Savea's crushes were old news.

  Mine was brand-spanking new.

  "It was a bike," Lea guessed, looking at me.

  "Here we go," Jamie said under her breath, just barely loud enough for me to hear.

  "A bike in Navesink Bank," Fee said, clearly catching on if the way her lips were twitching were anything to go by.

  "You're dating a Henchmen?" Autumn asked, tone hushed, clearly afraid that the men one room over might hear.

  "Wait wait," Lea said, shaking her head. "Which one?"

  "Well, what ones are left on the market?" Fee asked, thinking out loud. "That one that looks like some kind of wild animal..."

  "Roan," Lea supplied. "But he's not her type."

  "This is painful," I admitted quietly to Jamie who, bless her, just topped off my wine again.

  "That little puppy dog is free too," Fee went on. "Roderick. And the stupidly hot black guy. I could see her with him. What do they call him?"

  "Virgin," I supplied without thinking, making them all turn to look at me. "I am not fucking Virgin," I added, shaking my head.

  "That guy with the hot, weird accent," Lea mused.

  "It's Sugar, isn't it?" Autumn guessed, looking right at me.

  "How do you even know Sugar?" Fee asked, brows drawn together.

  "Eli was talking to Jstorm and Wolf a couple weeks back. And this other guy came up who they called Sugar. He's your type," she added, nodding.

  "I don't have a type," I objected, rolling my eyes. "I am equal-opportunity."

  That was true too.

  No two men I had shared my time with were alike. Black, white, Middle Eastern, rich guys, street guys, blue-collar guys. All that mattered was the chemistry. Chemistry transcended racial, cultural, and lifestyle lines.

  "Not looks-wise," Autumn agreed. "But you always date guys like him."

  "Guys like him," I scoffed. "You met him for two minutes."

  "Yep. And he was that cocky-confident with a hint of dangerous. And wrapped up with a banging body and an accent to boot. He checks off
all your boxes."

  "Speaking of boxes," Fee said, always up for a good sexual innuendo - one of the many reasons to love her. "I'm assuming he got all up in yours already, right?"

  "Nah, our girl here has taken vows of celibacy," Jamie said, deadpan, knowing it was possibly the most ridiculous thing you could say about me.

  "Tell me he's good."

  "They woke me up last night," Savea supplied, shooting me a guilty look. "What? It's true. I was asleep on the couch. In the living room," she added for emphasis.

  "Well," Fee said, lips twitching, "if she doesn't look and sound like a demon getting exorcised, he's not doing it right," she declared. "What? I'm trying to give up my deviant, sexual innuendo ways. But it's hard. It's so hard."

  "Oh, get real," Lea said, tossing sprinkles at her. "Even if you could close the sexual innuendo door, you'd come crashing through the wall like the effing Kool-Aid man."

  "Anyway," Fee said after shooting Lea a smirk. "He's good, right? He even walks like he is good."

  "How can a man walk like he's good?" Dusty asked, shaking her head.

  Fee's eyes were dancing when she declared, "I was trying to be delicate. But we all know that isn't like me. So fine. He walks like he has to tuck it into his sock," she informed everyone, making Dusty's cheeks heat.

  Normally, I would be right in the muck with them, trying to upstage the ever dirty-mouthed Fee, trying to out-innuendo her. Which was no easy job since she used to work as a phone sex operator. Though I did put up a valiant fight.

  But I found myself in the odd position of not wanting to share so much, to hold onto it, to keep it between the two of us.

  Which was so incredibly not like me.

  So much so that I fought past it.

  "King Kong could climb it in the next remake. That's all I'm saying."

  "Peyton," Autumn said after a few more rounds of big dick jokes, including one about it being like using the Eiffel Tower as a French tickler.

  "Yeah?" I asked, still laughing at Fee.

  "What's going on?" she asked, tone sincere.

  "We're talking about what is going on," I covered. "I'm screwing someone very off-limits. And if you tell Eli, I am going to lax-attack your coffee for it."

  She ignored the latter part, shaking her head. "If it were just sex, you would have burst through that door telling us how bikes aren't the only thing bikers can ride. You were being coy about it. So spill."