Cash (The Henchmen MC 2)

I didn't particularly have a problem with manwhores. If women want you and are happily giving of themselves to you, well, why wouldn't you indulge? He was youngish, he was hot, he was single. I didn't care how many women he dipped his wick into.

That being said, he wasn't getting near me.

He was hot. I was affected. That didn't mean I was stupid.

I had a few years on Cash. I'd been around the block. I knew my fair share of manwhores. I knew there was nothing there but hot sex and sore feelings to be had with men like him. Sure, at times, a woman needed some hot sex. The problem was, I was never the kind of woman who didn't sit up and think 'what if' and 'if only' when she woke up in a man's bed.

So, yeah, my body was practically electric when he was close enough to catch his smile or his laugh... but the fact of the matter was... it was never gonna fucking happen.

“Careful, beautiful, that sounds an awful lot like a challenge,” he said his voice rumbling low and seductive and it ran through my system like a current.

“Consider it whatever you want, handsome, but let me tell you right now,” I said, having to force myself to keep eye contact when his lips were giving me that devilish grin of his, “you will lose.”

“Aw, Lo...” he started when the oven dinged loudly, making us both start and having me take two steps back before I even realized what I was doing.

“I need a big strong man to help me pull this ham out of the oven,” Summer breezed in, giving me a knowing smile as she moved past me.

“Big, strong man, huh? Sounds like someone is calling my name,” Cash said, turning to her, and I watched as his eyes softened.

Then we had dinner. It was strained at best at the beginning, with Summer trying to banter awkwardly and Cash or myself trying to jump in to save her. By the time coffee and dessert was served, things had gotten a little looser with Cash and Reign and, occasionally, Wolf, telling old war stories about the trouble they got into as kids. It was dinner conversation liberally dotted with 'fucks' and 'shits' and 'pussies', but at least it felt more natural.

Reign sat back in his chair, his arm going around the back of Summer's as his attention turned to her. I wasn't sure how she could stand to be the recipient of his intense brand of attention. I felt like squirming and his head was completely turned from me.

“So we did this asinine dinner party, babe,” he said to her casually, his tone teasing. “And we never have to do it again, yeah?” he asked, sounding close to laughing as her cheeks heated slightly. She knew as well as the rest of us what a disaster the whole night was.

Then she did the oddest thing, she turned completely in her chair, leaning past Reign and looking over the sink in the kitchen. My gaze followed hers to find her looking at the clock.

She worried her lower lip with her teeth for a second before sitting back and giving Reign a sweet smile. “Right,” she agreed.

What the hell was that?

“Heading out,” Wolf said, standing suddenly, his insane height making me suddenly feel like a little girl as I twisted my neck to look up at him. “Summer, good food,” he said, giving her a tight-lipped smile. His gaze drifted over Richard who got a chin raise, then to me, who got a, “Woman,” then finally to Cash and Reign. “Church.” With that, he took his burly mountain-man-biker self across the house and out the front door.

His truck rumbled to life as I checked my phone to see if Janie texted me. She usually did, but sometimes if the plans were really concrete, she didn't bother; so I thanked Reign and Summer, asked if I could help with the cleanup, then made my way outside when I was shooed out of the kitchen.

It was cool outside and I instantly regretted the choice to go without a jacket as I stood in Reign's driveway, brows knitted, because Janie and the van were nowhere in sight. It wasn't like her. She always showed up on time, usually early. I reached into my pocket, hitting her number and listening to the ring.

“'s Janie, leave a message.”

“Shit,” I groaned, ending the call and hitting it again. Three more times. On the fourth, I shook the phone on a growl. “God damn it.”

“Janie flaked on you?” Cash asked from behind me, making me jump. He shouldn't have been able to sneak up on me. I was being careless.

“She's probably just running late.”

“Probably,” he agreed, moving to stand next to me in his annoyingly warm looking black leather jacket. He raised his arms up over his head, arching his back slightly on a groaning stretch that made his tee inch up from the waistband of his jeans and expose a delicious three inches of his tight abs that I found myself not able to look away from. I heard his low chuckle and realized he caught me staring. “Like what you see, honey?”

Oh, good Christ, with the endearments. Was there anything hotter than a guy who used them so readily and with such great variety?

“Eh,” I said, shrugging a shoulder as I made pointed eye contact.

He looked down at me, his eyes smiling at me like he knew I was bullshitting him and weighing if he was going to call me on it or not. Apparently he thought better of it because the next thing I knew, his hand moved out and his finger stroked down my bare goosebumped arm, giving me a shiver for an entirely different reason. “Little cold to be standing out here waiting on a ride,” he observed, his thumb and forefinger snagging the edge of my t-shirt sleeve for a second before pulling away.

I pulled in a slow breath, hoping it would do something to slow my heart slamming in my chest. “I'll be fine,” I said, feigning casualness when there was a very (and I mean very) persistent pulsating between my thighs.