Cyrus (The Henchmen MC 9)

"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.