Sugar (The Henchmen MC 12)

"Because he is different?" she suggested. "Sometimes, it just comes down to that. The right person at the right time."

"He's not the right person," I objected immediately. "And this is certainly not the right time."

"When will it be the right time, babe?"

I snorted into my wine. "Never."

"Funny thing about life, it doesn't give a shit about what we want. Or when we want it."

If that wasn't the truth.

"We're just screwing around," I insisted.

"For now," she said.

"For always. Until it gets old."

"What if it doesn't get old?"

"It has to. It always does."

"Does it?" she asked. "Do I get old? Does Savvy? Your sister? The Mallicks? Rivers? Sometimes, people come and stick. And you don't get sick of them. And sometimes those people are people you also happen to enjoy fucking."

The scary thing was... a part of me agreed with her.

"All I'm saying is this... don't sabotage something because you're scared."

With that, she turned and walked off to my bedroom before I could say I wasn't scared.

Because we both knew that would be a lie.

I was scared.

But when he showed up after work the next day, I had baked macaroni waiting for him. And chocolate cake. Which we ate... while watching my movie choice. He had handed me the remote with the stipulation that he would have veto power. Which he used six times until we settled on the first Bourne movie.

Then he made good on his promises for orgasms.

After which, he pulled me to his side, his hand stroking up my spine. Which I liked. More than I should have.

Until he got a text that made him go stiff from head to toe, and then practically trip over himself on the way out.

We hadn't made a plan for the next night.

Which I found myself immeasurably grumpy about.

So much so that Jamie called in Savvs for reinforcement.

We drank and watched reruns of Two Broke Girls while eating black raspberry ice cream.

Savvs passed out on Jamie's shoulder around midnight. And just as I was starting to feel my eyes get heavy too, there was a knock at the door.

Jamie immediately went to stand, eyes a little worried.

"I got it. Don't wake her," I said, jumping up, going toward the door.

"Baby, open up," Sugar's voice called, sounding a bit tired, strained, not like himself.

I won't lie, my heart flew up a bit at hearing his voice.

My hands went for the locks, pulling at them almost a little frantically.

Then there he was, looking as worn-out as his voice sounded.

"I don't have your number," he informed me, looking over my shoulder at my friends. "Couldn't call ahead to see if you were in."

"Is that your sly way of asking for my digits?" I asked, smiling as I moved out of the way. "Just don't wake up Savvs. She's grumpy when she doesn't get enough sleep."

"Got it," he agreed, waving at Jamie who gave him a chin-jerk as we made our way across the apartment to my room.

"You alright?" I asked, closing my door, watching as he walked over to my nightstand, reached for my charger, and plugged his phone in.

"Long day," he said, shaking his head. "Help me forget it."

So then I did, the best way I could.

Naked.

With my mouth.

Then the rest of my body.

"What are you doing?" Sugar asked when I hopped up after, grabbing his cell, pulling it off my charger, and putting mine on.

"Establishing dominance," I said, then yelped as hands snagged my hips, dragging me back toward the bed where I landed on my belly. Over his lap.

His palm came down on my ass with a slap that echoed so hard back at us from the walls that I was sure Jamie could hear it back in the living room.

"Oh, it's on, motherfucker," I declared as the sting took over my asscheek and I turned my head, biting into his thigh muscle.

The growling noise he made sent a thrill through me.

It lasted a split second before his hand curled into my hair, yanking me up by it.

"No fair," I hissed as I went up on my hands and knees, then just my knees when he kept pulling. "You don't have any hair to pull."

"Sucks for you," he said, smirking as his hand let up slightly.

"You seem better," I observed. His hand released my hair, going to the back of my neck and massaging the sting.

"You got that effect, I guess."

"You... guess? I must not be on top of my game."

"Baby, don't," he demanded, shaking his head at me, smile gone.

"Don't what?"

"Fish for compliments. You're better than that, and you fuckin' know it."

"I wasn't doing that."

Was I?

Shit.

I think I was.

He was right; I didn't do things like that.

In general, I didn't need it. I was confident, sure of who I was as a person, as a woman, as a lover. I didn't need men to pat me on the back and tell me I did a good job.