Cyrus (The Henchmen MC Book 9)

by Jessica Gadziala

  That was alright, though, I realized as the young, bright yellow rays streaked in from the floor-to-ceiling windows behind me, casting little rainbows over Reese's belly and hip. Her sleeping meant I got a few minutes to myself to think, to reflect, to plan. Real life would be calling again far too soon, so I was going to take the opportunity to bask while I had it.

  Lucky.

  That was the one word that came to mind as I looked up at Reese's face, always soft, but even more so in sleep, her thick, dark lashes resting softly on the skin of her cheek. Her hair was a wavy mess around her even though she hadn't been tossing or turning to make it so; it apparently had a mind of its own.

  She hadn't, I realized with a non-orgasm-sated brain, insisted on covering up after we had been together. I had been mostly sure that when I came back from the bathroom, I would have found her in fresh panties and a tee at least.

  It was maybe the first time I realized that shyness didn't always equate to modesty. She might not have been able to really hold a conversation the first time or two we hung out, but she had absolutely no problems with me seeing her body. Hell, she hadn't slapped me away when I grabbed her ass either.

  Progress.

  Though I knew it would be a slow-moving project, the plan was to get her to appreciate every inch of herself.

  It would be worth it in the end.

  And as for the sex? Yeah, that needed some major fucking reflection. Every single second of that needed to be gone over on a loop in my head for an hour even as my fingers traced chastely across the skin of her belly, her side, her hip, the outside of her thigh.

  Now, we've established that I had fucked a lot. I got around. I enjoyed myself more than my fair share.

  So it meant something when I said that what I did with Reese, yeah, it fucking topped it all.

  It topped the no-strings nights after the bar.

  It topped the quick and dirty up against the wall of the compound with a fuck-buddy when I was on watch at night.

  It topped the wild, over the top, kinky fucking some of the women from the fetish clubs had been into.

  In fact, it put all of those, all of those empty, meaningless nights to absolute shame.

  I remember once, back when Reeve was still the Reeve I grew up with, claiming to me that sex was different when it was with someone you cared about or loved.

  Barely in my twenties, I had scoffed, calling him a pussy, thinking he was just soft, just sappy.

  It was crazy how many years it took to realize he was absolutely right.

  It didn't take taboo, risqué, kinky, or dirty to be the best sex of my life.

  It took connection. It took this soul-deep desire to please her. It took the amazement as she seemed to have the same desire to please me. Then, fuck, it took being inside her. It took her warm, tight walls around me. It took her eyes looking at me like she could feel it too, could feel the strange almost aching rightness at being connected like that.

  And I wanted it to be that, especially as her eyes glistened, as she got emotional with the impact of the sensations, the look making an unfamiliar tightness grip my chest.

  I had wanted to do something I had never done with a woman before. It was amazing how, even with all my years to experience, there was still something left unexplored.

  I had never made love to anyone before.

  And I wanted so badly to have that first with Reese.

  But then she whimpered, she moaned, her body begged for more.

  And it had been so long.

  There was no denying us what we both needed - an end to the torment. So I let go.

  Then she came so hard that she lost her voice for a long moment. When she found it again, she did it; she cried out my name. There was no stopping my own release then.

  I had fallen asleep feeling more content than I was aware was even possible.

  I shook my head, brushing away the thought as my cock strained at the memory, already at-attention and painfully in need of relief.

  We had so little time.

  But I was going to go ahead and spend a little of it doing something we both would prefer over going down to the dining room for breakfast.

  My hand moved up her thigh, over her hip, her belly, then traced under one of her breasts, the nipple hardening almost instantly. Even asleep, her body responded so openly to touch. My fingers moved up, rolling over the hardened, impossibly soft bud, smiling a little as her body shifted, moving toward consciousness. I worked it gently until she sighed contentedly, almost awake. Then I took it between two fingers, pinched, and twisted.

  Her eyes shot open as a surprised moan came from her mouth.

  "Good morning," I greeted just a second before my mouth closed over her nipple, sucking over and over until her entire body started writhing.

  I pulled my head up, seeing her hooded eyes, knowing without even having to touch her to check that her pussy was already fucking dripping for me.

  But, you know, not needing to check didn't mean I didn't want to.

  My hand slid over the gentle curves of her side, moving in at the last possible second, sliding down her slit, then pressed two fingers inside her before she could even know my intention. Her pussy clenched around the invasion as she whimpered out my name, her hips rocking upward, begging for more.

  And, well, if my girl wanted more, she got more. She got all she could take.

  There was no time for soft or sweet or exploration.

  I finger-fucked her pussy until her wetness was dripping down my hand, until her fists were nearly tearing at the sheets, until I didn't have to, she reached into the nightstand to find a condom and held it out.

  I took it, biting the edge to open it, but dropping it on her belly, rolling slightly so my cock was accessible. She didn't need instructions. She was too fucking far gone to even think clearly as her fingers fumbled to release the condom, pinching the tip, then rolling it on my length as my fingers turned inside her to rake over her G-spot. The choked moan she let out had my balls feeling like they were in fucking vice grips as I pulled my fingers out of her, stroking my cock with my hand, spreading her wetness there before I reached to push her on her side, facing away from me.

  I reached down, grabbing her calf, slinging it over my thigh as I reached down to slap the thick cheek of her ass, knowing that some day, she was going to let me claim that too.

  But today wasn't that day, and she was grinding back into me.

  If she needed my cock in that sweet, tight pussy of hers, she was going to fucking get it.

  I grabbed my cock, then slammed inside her without warning, making her let out a cry that was going to wake anyone on the floor who was sleeping in on a Sunday.

  A growling noise escaped me, knowing there wasn't a feeling in the world that compared to a woman you cared about needing, and loving the feel of your cock inside her.

  My hand sank into her hip, holding tightly to keep her in place because she was teetering toward the edge of the bed.

  Then, well, I fucked her.

  There was no other word for the hard, relentless, bed-breaking thrusting.

  I fucked her.

  And she cried out, begging for more, begging for release.

  My hand moved out, grabbing hers, and moving it down her body to press between her legs. She didn't even hesitate. She worked her clit as my arm went up her chest, to press between her breasts that were bouncing wildly as I slammed into her. My hand went up around her throat, pressing into the veins that ran up the sides, cutting off the oxygen as I felt her pussy clamp down hard.

  She almost screamed out as the orgasm wracked its way through her, her pussy squeezing me so tight that it was hard to keep thrusting. I wasn't a quitter, though, and I fucked her through it, waiting until the waves were done crashing before I buried deep, and got to come myself, the intensity of which blacked out my vision for a long second.

  "Oh my God," she gasp/whimpered a moment later, my hand still at her throat, but not squeezing anymore.<
br />
  I smiled as I leaned down to press a kiss into her shoulder.

  A little choking never failed.

  Ask your boyfriend if auto-erotic asphyxiation is right for you.

  It was.

  It always fucking was.

  You know, if the dipshit knew how to do it right.

  "I changed my mind," I said as I pulled out of her and she rolled back onto her back to look at me. "That is how we say good morning now."

  Her smile was a mix of bemused and dreamy. "I can get behind that," she agreed with a teasing smile.

  "No, angel, you have that backward. I'm going to be the one getting behind you. A fucking lot," I added as I moved to jump off the other side of the bed, going into the bathroom to deal with the condom.

  I realized as I tossed it, that I had never, not once in my life, fucked without one. And that this, this thing with Reese and me, it might be another first on that front too. Once we got there. Once we talked about it.

  I walked out after washing my hands to find her sitting off the side of the bed, still naked, but her hair cascading around her, masking a lot from view.

  There was a heaviness in the air that I couldn't place. "What's the matter, Ree?"

  Her head lifted slowly, her eyes a little sad. "I don't want to go back," she admitted, shrugging her shoulder.

  Whether she realized it or not, there was a question there, a need to know if maybe what we had here would stay here, if New York was New York, and Navesink Bank was Navesink Bank. If things would be different.

  Given that I was who I was, well, I couldn't fucking blame her for worrying about that.

  "Ree," I said moving over to her, dropping down in front of her to put a hand over where hers were clasped by her knees. "I know that all you have likely heard about me is that I'm a slut, that I get around, that I'm some outlaw biker, that that is all my life is about. There is some truth in that, even. I was a slut. I did get around. I am, and will continue to be, a Henchmen. But I think you know me well enough at this point to know that that isn't all there is to me."

  "I know that," she admitted. And, given how much time we had spent with each other, sharing interests and passions, I knew she did. "It's just... we have such separate lives, Cy."

  I let my smile be teasing though I didn't feel light-hearted in the moment. This shit was serious, and I was going to treat it as such. But Reese had a tendency to think and overthink a thought to absolute death, then raise it from the dead, only to stake it again.

  "You want to come to the compound, bunny rabbit?" I asked, making her snort a little at the nickname, one I had a feeling I would be using a lot, if for no other reason than that it was unique to her, it was one I had never used on another woman, it was one that had personal meaning for us. "You want to meet Reeve? You want to get to know the guys I hang with? You want to be in that area of my life, Ree, you just need to tell me that."

  There was a beat, her taking a deep breath, her eyes on my beard before moving up to my eyes. "I want to be in every area of your life," she admitted, her voice a small whisper.

  "Well then, we will get you some leathers, combat boots and... what? Come on, you'd look sexy as fuck in leather pants. And a leather corset. Oh yeah..." I teased, closing my eyes to relish the idea.

  "I've seen The Henchmen women," she said with an eye roll. "They dress normally."

  "Fine. You can wear your cute as fuck nerd gear then. So, we done somehow thinking that this isn't serious? Because, let me tell you, this is as serious as my beard-care routine is to me."

  She laughed at that, smile big enough to crease the skin beside her stunning green eyes. "You're ridiculous."

  "You love it," I shot back, slapping my hands on her thighs to push up. "Come on, we gotta get dressed so we can grab some bagels or something on the way."

  "And coffee," she added, taking her bag from me as I pushed it toward her.

  "Yes, coffee. Can't have you going to face the Wrath of Kenzi un-caffeinated."

  "Perish the thought," she agreed, snapping her bra into place, and reaching for her pants.

  "After dinner, you want to drive my way?" I suggested.

  "Your way?" she asked, doing a little jump to get the leggings up over her ass, something I tried not to smile at, knowing she would likely interpret it wrong.

  "Point the car in the direction of the compound, then drive there, then park there, and come in."

  She pulled her shirt up over her head, reaching back to yank her hair free. But she had a small smile tugging at her lips. "I think I can manage that."

  --

  It was late.

  I mean, not really.

  It was just late for her not to be done with Sunday dinner.

  Well, not really that either.

  It was still fucking light out.

  I was being paranoid.

  I knew from past experience not to even try to text her when she was there, that she was usually too caught up cooking, eating, and catching up with family and friends to answer.

  See, I realized something after I got back to the compound. She wanted into my life.

  And, well, I wanted into hers as well.

  It was grating at me maybe more than it should have that she hadn't mentioned anything about that to me. Because, with Reese, her family was the equivalent to the club in mine. It was love, loyalty, family. It was the biggest part of her life.

  I knew very little about her family.

  I knew generalizations more than anything. They had grown up poor. Their father had been a cheating scum, but her mother and the mother to Reese's half-brother had forged a friendship through it all, become as close as sisters, and raised all the siblings side-by-side. I knew she had two older brothers and an older sister who was the opposite of Reese in just about every way. I knew she had two aunts. I knew she had a grandmother who was having health issues that had the family on bated breath. I knew they had Sunday dinners with mandatory attendance.

  But, really, that was all I knew.

  I didn't know her mother's name. Or her aunts', grandmother's, or brothers' names. I didn't know what any of them did for a living. I didn't know if they knew about me.

  But, at this point, they were supposed to, right?

  "Jesus Christ," I growled, raking my hands down my face, tugging a bit at my beard, trying to shake the thoughts that I could never have guessed would ever plague me.

  "Woman trouble?" Edison asked, dropping down across from me with an entire bottle of vodka in his hand. He would likely drink it all too. And not get drunk. I'd swear the fuck was fed vodka in his baby bottles for him to be able to have the tolerance for it that he did. It was like chugging water for him. "Apologize," he said, shrugging.

  I laughed at that, caught off-guard. "I didn't do anything."

  "So? Never hurts."

  I couldn't help it; I laughed again.

  Because, really, what kind of advice was that?

  Especially coming from a man who I rarely ever saw with a woman, and certainly never seriously.

  "That your answer to everything?"

  "When it comes to women?" he clarified in that gravel-filled rumbling growl of his.

  "Yeah."

  "Sometimes a solid fucking is in order too," he said with a small, devilish smile.

  I was going to say something else, but then I heard the front door slam shut, then Roderick's voice.

  Looking up, I saw him walking Reese into the compound, looking around a little nervously, but giving Roderick a placating smile as he put his hand at her lower back.

  "Just saying, mami, if you decide he's too..."

  "He's too what?" I asked, moving toward them, raising a brow.

  Roderick, smile wicked, making it clear he had been flirting with her just to fuck with me, because he liked doing shit like that - fucking with people, getting a rise out of them.

  "If he's too busy to walk you in, I am happy to be your guide," he supplied smoothly.

  "Roderick," Kenne
dy called from a few feet away, making him turn his head over to where she was standing with Pagan. "Leave the poor girl alone," she advised, rolling her eyes, making him give me and Ree a smile before moving off to her.

  "You shoulda texted me," I said, giving her a smile. "So I could walk out and bring you in. I know you are a little intimidated by this place."

  "It's less the place and more the, ah..."

  "Dozen or so hardened bikers?" I supplied, waving a hand out to where Cash was tossing one of the kids up and down in the air over his head, smiling the whole time.

  "Oh, God," Reese groaned unexpectedly, making my gaze snap to hers to find her eyes on Cash, looking a bit like a deer in the headlights.

  "Angel, what's..." I started, only to be cut off by Cash's call across the room.

  "Reese, sweetheart, what the hell are you doing here?"

  Cash knew Reese?

  My eyes went between them as Cash made his way over.

  How did Reese know Cash?

  "Everything okay?" he asked, looking genuinely concerned for her, like there was some kind of connection there. "Did you break down in that shitmobile again?" he asked as he got close.

  "Ah, no," she said, shaking her head a little jerkily, looking at me from the side of her eye.

  "Alright, what is this?" I asked, waving between them.

  "What's what?" Cash asked, looking at me like I was losing my mind. "Gina lives next door to me."

  "Gina?" I asked, the name meaning nothing.

  "Reese's mom," Cash supplied, looking at me with drawn-together brows. "What's going on, Ree? Why are you at the compound?"

  "I, ah," she started, biting into her bottom lip as she shifted her feet.

  "She's here for me," I supplied, putting a hand across her hips, not knowing exactly why she was so freaked, but knowing I wanted to put an end to it as I pulled her closer.

  "Oh, no fucking shit," Cash said, eyes big, lips parted, looking between us for a minute. "Coffeeshop girl? You're the coffeeshop girl he's been mooning over for fucking months now?" he asked, shaking his head like it didn't make sense. "And... you're the one he took to the city over the weekend. Gina said you were at Bookjam."