Cash (The Henchmen MC 2)

My eyes went right to the bed where a girl was sitting cross-legged, a little busted up looking herself- white gauze wrapped up her arm, a bunch of scrapes down the side of one of her cheeks. Her long dark hair was pulled into a low ponytail and she was dressed in one of Wolf's white tees which, given that he was practically a giant and she was a tiny slip of a thing, completely swallowed up her body down to her knees.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Because she wasn't just any skirt.

She was Lo's fucking little protege.

She was the smart-as-a-whip, loud-mouthed, badass, tactical genius covered in ink with walls high enough around her to make Lo's walls look like a kid's playpen.

Janie.

Wolf moved inside, but left the door open and I took it as a none too subtle invitation for me to leave at any time.

“Well well well,” I smiled, too amused for any of our good. “Look at this little development...”

“Cash,” Wolf's deep voice warned, but I completely ignored it.

“She's not your usual type, man,” I said, nodding at her. “But, hell, if you can put up with that smart mouth,” I winked at Janie. I was fucking with her. I liked me a woman with a smart mouth, but she was always fun to get a rise out of, and that was just what I was getting as she moved herself up onto her knees on the center of the bed and glared at me.

“The operative word there being 'smart',” she started, moving toward the end of the bed and hopping off. “I know. It's a foreign concept to someone who barely has two brain cells to rub together and when he does, all they do is scream out 'pussy, pussy, pussy', but some of us actually have...”

“Retract the claws, kitten,” I laughed, winking at her as I chucked her chin. “I was messing with you.”

“Oh,” she said, immediately deflating and I wouldn't be wrong to say she looked a little disappointed to miss out on a fight. She took a breath and looked up at me with those big blues of hers. “Why is Lo staying with you?”

“I dunno. Why you staying with Wolf?” I countered, worried about the tongue-lashing Lo would give me if I shared her secret. Yeah, me, worried about a chick. What the fuck was happening? Her chin lifted defiantly and she stayed silent. And, as always, so did Wolf. “You alright, kid?” I asked, reaching out to touch the bandage. It was the barest of brushes over the gauze, but she shrieked and wrenched away. “The fuck...”

“Time to go,” Wolf said, moving to step between me and Janie and it was clear that, for the first time, Wolf was standing against one of his brothers.

I bit into the inside of my cheek, rocking back on my heels for a second, trying to figure out if I should press the issue or not. In the end, it really wasn't my place, it was Reign's place and, frankly, when it came to chastising a man we had known our entire lives, yeah, I'd much rather my brother be the one to handle that shit.

“Alright,” I said, putting my hands up and moving back a few steps. “But pick up your fucking phone and call Reign or you're gonna have a group of Henchmen up here asking questions and airing your laundry. Janie, kitten,” I said, leaning past Wolf's body so I could see her (and it didn't escape me that she was watching Wolf's back with her brows drawn together in utter confusion). “Take care of that arm. I'll see you around.”

I took the descent much more slowly than I had the ascent and, for once, it had nothing to do with the uneven footing. Or maybe everything to do with it, but in a much more figurative way.

It wasn't that I'd never had woman trouble before. But it had been a different kind of trouble. It was always: 'how do I get this woman into bed' trouble, or 'how do I break it to this woman that she ain't gonna be my old lady' trouble, or even 'how do I get this chick to stop slashing the tires on my bike' trouble.

I had never liked a woman just as intensely as I disliked her before. What the fuck did that say about me, that I could be so attracted to someone who did shit I thought was inexcusable? Yes, she was a challenge. Yes, that was always like fuckin' catnip to me. Still, it didn't make sense.

Maybe it was just desire. I could be that base and simple at times. If the woman was hot enough, I was willing to jump through hoops and look past a lot of crazy shit to get a taste of her.

And, having had a taste of Lo, well let's just say I wanted more. I wanted it all. I wanted to know what she felt like writhing beneath me. I wanted to know what my name sounded like being gasped from her lips as she came. I wanted to know how it felt to have her lips wrapped around my cock. I wanted to know if she was as wild and wanton as I imagined her to be. Did she dirty talk? Was she open to different positions? Could I get her to the point of no return, where she was willing to say, cry, beg for me to give her release? Could I get underneath her walls and peek at the woman underneath?

“Jesus Christ,” I groaned, getting to the car, shaking my head at my reflection in the windows.

I needed to figure out what her problem was, fix it for her, and get her the hell out of my life before there was no turning back.TwelveLoI heard the car a few hours later while I was elbow deep in cooking ingredients. To my surprise, and utter delight, Cash actually didn't have a bachelor's fridge (meaning full of meat and leftover takeout and wholly devoid of essentials like butter, eggs, or garlic). He was stocked to the gills and I couldn't help but wonder about him moving around his kitchen with the practiced ease he seemed to handle everything in his life, making meals.