Virgin (The Henchmen MC 16)

The soft bone structure.

The light eyes.

The full, bright red lips.

An image of that mouth wrapped around my cock shot through my head, her head tipped up, eyes open, watching me as she sucked me deep. My cock stiffened a bit at the idea.

But it wasn't just the looks. Though let's face it, that was undoubtedly a factor.

No.

There was something in her eyes. Something weighted. Something dark, guarded, but somehow certain. Confident.

A soft and a hard place at the same time, that was what she was.

And that was some intriguing shit, now, wasn't it?

I nodded my chin at Cam, a silent thanks, placing my hand on the table, getting ready to stand. When a man moved into the picture, sliding in front of her, taking up all the space between her and the bar. Close. Too close for a random pickup.

With a sigh, I eased back into my chair, reaching for my beer.

No one could say I was the most moral of men. I'd been in heroin and cocaine dealing MCs. I'd been an enforcer, beating the shit out of people solely for the paycheck. I'd taken up the generous offers of an unknown number of clubwhores. I sold guns to other undesirables.

But I didn't fuck around with women who had men. At least not if I knew they had men. Sometimes shit happened, and drama was inevitable, but I wasn't about to set my sights on a woman who already had a man.

Cam's hand slammed down on the table, drawing my attention to where he was rolling his eyes at me. Like he was in on something I had missed.

Curious, my gaze slid across the bar again, looking for what I might have missed.

The woman had her gaze trained on the door.

And the man - oh.

I half turned back to Cam, seeing his smirk, feeling one of my own pulling at my lips.

Because the man I thought was her man was flirting with a man to his side, stroking his hand down his tie suggestively.

And, on closer inspection, they had the same eyes.

Brother, not boyfriend.

I drained my drink, getting to my feet, making my way across the bar.

"Oh, well, boo, no one has to kno..." the man's voice trailed off, clearly picking up on a bi vibe from the man who outwardly seemed straight as his gaze fell on me. "Well, look at this fine ass mother fucker," he exclaimed, leaning back against the bar, a hand going to his heart. "Don't worry, Denzel," he added, shaking his head. "I know you aren't here for me. Bitch, stop looking at the door. This fine piece of man meat wants to chat your pretty ass up. Thaddeus," he told me, reaching out his free hand. The other was still holding the tie of the curious man to his side.

"Virgin."

His brow raised at that. "A nickname, I hope. Not a declaration. Because, no offense, but my little sis deserves a man who knows how to slide her on into home, not some fumbling first timer."

"Road name," I clarified, making his eyes move over to the leather cut over my black tee.

"Oh, shit. He rides a bike. Are you listening to me?" he demanded, snapping at his sister who turned back, brows furrowed, apparently lost in her own head.

"Not at all actually."

"She's a work in progress," Thaddeus explained, excusing his sister for her lack of sociability. "Girl, this is Virgin," he explained, making the woman's gaze finally move to me for the first time.

Maybe she was good at distant and hard.

But there was no mistaking the way her lips parted, the way her eyes roamed over my face. The way she had to work at keeping them from roving lower.

"This is my sister, Freddie," Thaddeus went on when she said nothing. "Fred, this is where you say hi to the nice man."

Her gaze cut to him, eyes rolling a bit. But she was the sort who placated her big brother, so she looked back at me with a simple, "Hi."

"Not in the mood, huh?" I asked, shrugging a shoulder.

"Well..." she started to let me down.

"Um, hell the fuck yes, she's in the mood. Need I remind you of your rather impressive dry spell that..."

"Thad!" Freddie hissed, eyes going round. And, if I wasn't mistaken, her cheeks got a little bit red too. Blushing, now that I hadn't expected.

"Dry spell, huh?" I asked, watching as her gaze tentatively moved back to me, not quite making eye contact, making me wonder about my earlier assessment of her confidence. "I could help you with that."

"Really, I just came here to..."

"Stop being a cock-block to your big brother, see some new faces, get hit on by hot bikers..." Thad reminded her. "Listen, honey child, when a man with that Shamar Moore smile and that Channing Tatum body wants to buy your pretty ass a drink, you let them buy you a drink. And you let your brother talk to this gentlemen right here about whose place we are going to be hooking up at tonight," he said, giving the guy's tie a tug. "Go on with your cloistered self," he added when his sister didn't seem like she was going to budge, placing a hand between her shoulder blades and shoving her forward, making her stumble off heels it seemed like she wasn't accustomed to and into my chest.