Cyrus (The Henchmen MC Book 9)

by Jessica Gadziala

  "I will."

  Then Paine was leaving as well.

  The silence in the clubhouse was damn near deafening for a long moment before Pagan declared, "That was lame as fuck. Not a drop of blood?"

  "Over the course of Paine and Enzo's leadership, at least twenty men who had beef with Third Street 'went missing,'" Repo declared. "You don't want them getting pissed off. Cyrus did the smart thing in deescalating the situation."

  "Ex-gang leaders as your future brothers-in-law," Sugar said, giving me a smirk. "You sure as fuck know how to pick them, huh? She gets a splinter walking around barefoot at this clubhouse, they are going to be coming for your ass."

  I laughed at that, but had a feeling that we had come to an agreement about the situation. They didn't like my job. They didn't like Ree being around it. But they would respect my being in her life so long as I made her happy and kept her safe.

  All in all, it was reasonable.

  And I knew because I knew Elsie that Paine was a good man, reasonable, more laid-back than prone to violence. He just deeply loved his sisters. Maybe that came from not being able to be physically there for them for so long.

  We would all be fine.

  Once they got to know me over Sunday dinner, which I was actually looking forward to because I kind of wanted to experience the Wrath of Kenzi first hand, they would all be able to accept my place in Reese's life. I would have Elsie, Amelia, and Alex there to back me up too, to be sort of character witnesses that would help convince the others.

  That being said, I had to get a move on. I needed to hit the food store, figuring anything Reese had in her apartment of the fresh variety was likely garbage after the long weekend, and thinking it would be nice to make something to eat instead of ordering in again.

  You know, after I got acquainted with her bed.

  Maybe her couch.

  Her shower.

  Her kitchen counter.

  Because, apparently, all those things you heard about the shy girls being the most fun in bed, the most open, the most unexpected, yeah, that shit was right on the money. At least in Reese's case. I had barely gotten a taste, and I was fucking ravenous for more.

  Luckily, I had plans on being around for a good, long time to get my fill.

  SEVENTEEN

  Reese

  "What do you mean you and Paine dropped into The Henchmen compound?" I whisper-yelled at Enzo who had stopped in to bring me coffee at work on his way out of town.

  I folded my arms tighter around my body to ward off the cold after he insisted we talk outside for a moment.

  I mean, seriously?

  They didn't even call or text me to confirm the news they apparently got about Cyrus and me? They just stormed all in there like they had any right to cause a scene in my name? They might have been my brothers, and I may have known this would be a touchy subject to broach, and for them to accept, but that was just above and beyond any rational reaction to the situation.

  "We got word about you being involved with the biggest whore in that clubhouse, Ree. What did you expect?"

  "I expected you to respect the fact that I am old enough, and certainly smart enough, to make my own decisions. Even regarding the 'biggest whore in that clubhouse,' Enzo."

  At that, it maybe being the first time I had ever actually been mad at him, and confident enough to say something about it even though I was, his brow lifted slightly. "We were just looking out for you."

  "And, pray tell, what did you find out about Cyrus while you were there?"

  "That he's a good guy," Enzo admitted with a shrug. "He's had a past, but he owns up to it. He has done some great things for you. He seems like he's in this for the long haul."

  My belly maybe flip-flopped on the words 'long haul' because we were still in the beginning stages, and there would always be a slight worry that it wouldn't go as far as I wanted to - you know, happily ever after - so it was nice to hear a third party tell me that Cyrus was serious.

  "Exactly," I said, lifting my chin a little. "And that would be what I told you had you done the right thing and come to me about it first, not go into a biker clubhouse with a puffed-up chest."

  "You spent the night there last night."

  "Yeah, and he'll be spending the night at my place tonight," I admitted, trying to keep my cheeks from turning red at that admission. Or, at least, hoping Enzo would attribute that to the cold.

  "That's not my business," he surprised me by admitting. "I just don't like the idea of you in that clubhouse right now, Ree. This isn't about dictating who you date. It's about all the drive-bys and the changing criminal climate around here. I'd just prefer you hang at your place until this shit is settled. That's all."

  And, honestly, that was reasonable.

  I had been so lost in my own little dreamy world that I had somehow forgotten about that little drive-by incident right before we left for the city. There had simply been enough good to overshadow that bit of bad. But there was no mistaking that that kind of bad wasn't just bad. It was possibly deadly.

  That was something that I did realize needed to be thought about. In length. Seriously.

  But I figured that, chances were, it wouldn't change my decision. Life was dangerous. Every single day, you took your life into your own - and other people's - hands. You had a one-hundred percent chance of getting in a car accident in your lifetime. There was a one in six-thousand chance of falling to your death by no other cause than clumsiness. One in sixty-five thousand died from bee, wasp, or hornet stings. One in forty-two thousand got crushed to death.

  Life was full of things that meant you harm.

  I could wake up after too-little sleep, trip over my feet, and ram my head into the side of my kitchen counter, bleeding to death on my kitchen floor. I could get mowed over crossing the street. I could choke on a freaking vitamin.

  If, as a whole, my chances of death for just existing were, you know, one-hundred freaking percent, and there was no telling when that peaceful - or bloody - end might befall me, then why would I rule out dating Cyrus because of the small possibility of being dragged into biker business?

  For all the time leading up to any danger that might come my way, I would at least be orgasm-contented, and soul-deep happy.

  How many people could say that?

  And who, when they had that kind of joy in their lives, would push it away for some vague 'possibility' or something bad happening?

  Exactly.

  No one.

  So I was going to think about it, sure, but I knew what conclusion I would come to.

  Cyrus was worth it.

  Case closed.

  "The compound is, ah, crowded," I told Enzo, trying not to think about the sex all the people inside had absolutely overheard. "And I like being home. So I think, for the most part, we will be there and not the compound. Though, I am not making any promises."

  "I couldn't expect you to," he agreed, rocking back on his heels as he watched me. "Ree, you seem happy," he said, sounding almost somehow sad about that.

  "I am happy," I agreed, not understanding his tone.

  "I don't think I ever realized how rarely I saw you happy, Ree, until now, seeing it."

  "I wasn't unhappy," I added quickly, getting it finally. "I was... content." And I was. There was no lying about that. I was perfectly content to spend the rest of my life in new worlds, talking to my fish, visiting my family, eating my ice cream. I would have been just fine if that was my destiny. It was just that fate had other plans for me, and they were just a teensy bit more fulfilling.

  "I like this look on you, kid," he said, touching my cheek.

  "I like it on you too, E," I said, smiling up at him.

  Enzo, unlike Paine, had been tortured by his decision to be a gang leader, knowing how hard his mom had tried to keep him off the streets when she was alive. It made him darker, colder, obsessive-compulsive, and deeply disappointed in himself. It wasn't until he moved to the city to become a private investigator, and u
ntil he fell in love with Espen, that the darkness faded, his coldness warmed, his sense of self-worth improved. He was truly happy for the first time as well. It was one of the best sights I had ever seen.

  "Hope he continues to deserve you," he said, leaning in to kiss my temple. "I'll see you Sunday, Ree."

  With that, he was turning, and making his way back to his obnoxious, expensive car, then turning back to the city.

  Me, well, I dealt with another hour of Barb before she went home for the day, then said hello to the other nighttime librarian that only worked super part time - meaning, the nights I couldn't - and whom the other librarians weren't a fan of because she had tattoos all up her arms and neck and had mermaid-colored hair.

  Peyton, she was called.

  It was, as she told me upon meeting me, the 'most boring caucasian name possible' and she seemed to rebel against the fact that, to go along with it, she was blonde-haired and blue-eyed, and stupidly pretty.

  "It's amazing how long someone can go on living with a stick up their ass like that. You'd think it would do some serious damage by now," she said as she moved behind the desk, giving me a smile as she whipped out a six-by-nine huge hunk of a book.

  Peyton liked indie.

  And Peyton refused to read blurbs.

  She never had any idea what she was getting herself into.

  I kind of liked that about her.

  She told me that she got into library science because while the future wasn't exactly secure, she would be paid in the meantime to read. And, since she worked night shifts, that was true.

  "She's mad at me for taking off like that."

  "Right, because it affected her at all. I took the shifts. Scared the little old biddies in here on Saturday morning. Thought there was some new satanic cult in town, I swear. So," she said, looking at me hard for a second with a smile, "you look freshly fucked. Is he hot? Please tell me he's hot."

  "He's hot," I agreed, grabbing my bag, and slinging it over my shoulder as I reached for my keys. "And he's waiting for me."

  "Shit. Go!" she said, eyes mock-big. "You can't keep good dick waiting. Go get yours," she said, giving me a saucy eyebrow wiggle before I walked off.

  I felt my belly fluttering - and maybe other parts doing something similar - as I parked in my spot, seeing one of the SUVs from The Henchmen compound parked beside it.

  I found Cyrus waiting outside my door with about six bags from the grocery store lined up.

  I don't know where the urge came from, sure it wasn't something that I had ever done with a man before, but I flew at him, arms around his neck, lips slamming into his, everything in me desperate to be close, to feel him again. Maybe, to reassure me that he was a part of my life. Because it was still new, it was still feeling a bit like a dream, like a fairytale come to life.

  It was good to have the reality check every once in a while. Especially when that reality check meant Cy's arms going around me, sliding down my back, sinking into my ass, lifting me, then slamming me back against my apartment door as he ravaged my mouth with his lips, tongue, and teeth. Until we were both struggling for breath. Until it was about to get truly indecent right there in the hall if I didn't unlock the door and move it inside.

  Cy let me do that, reaching for the bags, then coming in with me, moving into the kitchen to spread out the bags. "Got ice cream," he explained with a smile. "Don't worry. I'm coming over there to fuck you as soon as I put it away."

  That, well, it almost made my knees give out.

  I watched, almost in a daze, as he put the multiple little containers of what looked like good quality gelato into the freezer, then turned to look at me, eyes raking over me like he was seeing me for the first time.

  "Bet my life that those panties are soaked already."

  "I'm not wearing any," I admitted without thinking.

  But then his smile went wicked. "Oh, no?" he asked, stalking over toward me.

  Before I could even know his intention, his hands were ripping my pants down to my ankles as he dropped down, and his tongue was licking up my wet slit.

  My hand slammed down on his head as my other tried to grab for the mail table beside me, upsetting a small stack of books that toppled to the floor as his tongue worked my clit. His hand whispered up my thigh, two fingers plunging deep inside me, then retreating, allowing a different finger inside, then out again. Then he thrust the original two in deep as his third finger started doing circles around my ass, pressing in just the slightest bit, seeming to look for any sort of resistance in me to the idea.

  There were two things I knew.

  One, I had never let anyone play with my ass.

  And two, so many women swore it was a life-changing experience.

  Being that I trusted Cy and he had already exposed me to things I hadn't been sure I would be into, I was going to let myself see if it was one of those experiences for me as well.

  Seeming to sense my acquiescence, his finger pressed fully inside, the sensation strange, but somehow wholly welcome at the same time.

  All his fingers stayed still inside me as he worked my clit for a long couple of minutes, making the pressure build, creating the deep, primal need for his fingers to move.

  His head angled up, his tongue still out and working my clit, as his fingers in my sex and ass started thrusting lazily.

  And, yeah, that was pretty much all I needed to know that those ladies were right. It was life-changing. The desire became stronger, more intense, the triple-zone contact making my brain seem to completely shut off as my body just took over, just accepted, just begged for more, begged for it all.

  "Good?" he asked, releasing my clit to watch me.

  "Y...yeah," I gasped, thighs shaking, body needing release more than ever before.

  "Mmm," he mumbled, taking his feet as he started thrusting harder, faster, as his lips met the skin of my neck. "You gonna let me fuck your ass, baby? Think of how much better my cock would feel."

  Even as he said the words, my sex tightened hard around him, showing him just how much I did, in fact, want that.

  "I'm gonna need the words," he declared as I just kept trying to find my breath.

  "Yes," I gasped, face falling into his neck as his fingers got more and more insistent.

  His other arm went around my lower back, turning me, and mostly-lifting me off my feet as he walked us back toward the kitchen, pressing me back against the island as his arm released me to dig through the bags.

  "Went to more than the food store," he declared as he produced a box of condoms and a clear bottle of lube.

  I had never used lube before, never having had the, ah, need for it. It sounded decidedly unsexy, but that being said, the need inside for release was becoming almost painful, so my hands were reaching out for the waistband of his pants, undoing the button and zip to free his cock, stroking the hard, hot length for a moment until he pulled away. I lost his fingers too as he nipped the edge of a condom and rolled it on.

  "Turn for me, Ree," he demanded softly.

  I had to press my thighs together as I did to stem the desire. But then Cy was pressing my upper body flat against the island

  "Nice fucking view, baby," he said softly as I heard a cap pop, then felt cool liquid pour where he needed it, the sensation foreign, yet somehow unexpectedly erotic at the same time as I felt his cock press against, then penetrate my pussy, making me let out a groan, having been sure I wasn't going to get that.

  As soon as he was buried to the hilt, I could feel his finger working the lube around then into me as his finger penetrated again, working in circles as he started fucking me, fast but gentle, just trying to drive me up to oblivion.

  My hands were spread to the sides of the counter, holding on as he drove me right to the edge before pulling out his cock and finger, as I felt his cock drifting upward, pressing against me, feeling impossibly big.

  "Breathe, bunny," he demanded as I felt him start to apply pressure.

  I sucked in air, my chest a
little shaky.

  And as soon as I did, he started to press inside me.

  There was a pinch, a sensation of discomfort at first, that seemed to drift as soon as it started, a feeling that somehow had me getting even wetter, seeming to enjoy the invasion, the reality of him being the first, of him filling me somewhere no one else ever had before.

  "Ree?" Cy's voice called, sounding winded, strained. "Hey," he said when I couldn't seem to muster a response still, too overwhelmed with the newness, with the realization of how good it felt. His arm slid under my breasts, pulling me backward against his chest, making his cock shift slightly. A moan escaped me as my head fell back on his shoulder. "Scared me," he admitted, turning his head to kiss my cheek. "Feels good?" he asked, hand sinking into my hip.

  "Yeah," I whimpered, thighs aching I was pressing them together so hard.

  "Want more?" he asked, one hand drifting down my belly to start working my clit.

  More.

  All.

  I wanted whatever he could give me.

  A nod was all I could manage.

  Luckily, it was all Cyrus needed.

  His cock pressed deeper, always pausing to let me adjust before he gave me more, until he was buried to the hilt.

  My butt ground back against him, knowing how badly I needed the motion, not needing softness, needing release.

  "Cyrus, please," I begged.

  "Please what?" he asked, voice teasing. "Just once, Ree. I need to hear it from you just once."

  I knew what he was asking, and why he was asking it. Because I never used those words, because he wanted to be the one to get me to.

  And because it was him, I actually felt comfortable enough to.

  "Please fuck me."

  "There it is," he said, the approval sending a fluttering through my belly. "Good girl," he added as he dropped his hips, then immediately slammed back inside me.

  There was no exploring, no gentle introduction.

  We were both too far gone for that.

  His thumb moved to my clit as two fingers pressed inside my pussy, and his cock fucked my ass, each thrust making my whole upper body jerk. His free hand moved up to slide under my shirt, slipping into the cup of my bra, and squeezing my breast, rolling my nipple.