Sugar (The Henchmen MC 12)

After her shift on Monday, she had come into the library, propped herself on my desk, and demanded information.

The only reason I didn't kick her out was that she came bearing coffee. And I had not been sleeping well. Dreams had been shocking me awake. Then I was generally too pissed at myself for having sexy dreams about him that I couldn't calm myself back down enough for sleep.

He was messing with my sleep.

Which meant I was getting bags under my eyes that no amount of makeup could cover.

He was fucking with my look.

And that, well, was a damn castration-worthy offense.

So it was good I didn't come across him.

Yet here he was.

Cock intact.

At my work.

Just breathing up all my air.

Making it impossible to focus.

Why?

That was a good question.

Sure, it made sense that he maybe pulled the short straw and got saddled with babysitting at the library when all of them would likely prefer spending time at the salon, or wherever else all the women worked. At least at Kennedy's they could bullshit and hit on the women who came in.

Unless their interest ran toward the casket-robbing, they were shit out of luck here.

Lo's people always seemed to accept the duty with their usual steadfast silent diligence, nothing ever seeming to shake those people. Cyrus, being who he was, always managed to charm the old folks, get on with me, enjoy his shift. Once, I caught him reading something. He had, oddly, freaked and told me not to tell Reese, that it was a surprise. And outside of him, I had really only seen Cash around who very much got on here as well as Cy did.

So it was legit that he had been forced to pull the library shift today. But he should have left when Reese did. That was the job. Protecting Reese. From what or who, I had no idea. But the job was over as soon as Cy took her home.

Yet here he was.

Reading.

Not saying anything.

Just being there.

I don't know what finally did it, why I couldn't keep my mouth shut anymore.

I wasn't even aware I was going to say anything until I heard my voice echo across the quiet space.

"Leave."

To his credit - likely thanks to a lifetime being an outlaw - he didn't start at the sudden sound. In fact, it was like the impact of the word didn't get to him until a full moment later when he flagged his page with a slip of paper that was at the edge of the desk. His body uncurled slowly before he turned completely to me, head tipped to one side with that cocky, confident swagger he wore so well.

"I checked the hours on the way in. I am free to stay here until nine p.m."

"Right. Because you have suddenly become such a bookworm."

Ugh.

It was one thing to be sarcastic and crazy and maybe a bit abrasive at times. It was another to be snippy and bitchy.

No one liked snippy and bitchy.

I didn't like snippy and bitchy.

Why he was bringing it out of me, that was the mystery.

Except, to be honest, it really wasn't. There was no mystery. I was snippy and bitchy because I wanted more of this man. And I never wanted more of a man. That wasn't how I operated. They were interchangeable, good for, well, a good time. That was all. For everything else, I had my sister, the Mallicks, the Rivers, Jamie, Savvy, Ronnie, and a dozen or so other friends. They gave me everything I needed. The love, the fun, the support, the heartfelt conversations, the willingness to be on my arm to go to movies, events, anything.

All that was leftover for men was sex.

Just how I liked it.

Why, then, was this man, this man I hardly knew from Adam, this man who was just hot and sexy, and a really good lay... suddenly making me want weird things?

Like to know what he thought about the book in his hand, a favorite of mine.

Like to figure out what music he liked.

Like wondering if he would watch bloody TV shows with me and eat Chinese food.

Ugh.

What was wrong with me?

"What are you reading?" I asked, seeming unable to keep the question to myself even though I already know, clearly just wanting to engage him.

He moved a few steps closer, turning the book cover-side out, revealing one I had put on the staff recommends shelf just a few days ago. It had a tame enough cover and title to fool the daytime librarians, so they didn't pull it immediately like they did when I put racier stuff there.

I squashed down a strange jumpy feeling in my chest at the idea of him picking that one. Of all the choices there.

"And what do you think of it?"

"You recommended this one, right?" he asked, lips tipped up slightly at one side.