Cash (The Henchmen MC 2)

I didn't ask what she meant. I didn't need to.

“You guys were trying to figure out who did it?”

“We did find out who did it,” I clarified.

“Is he still breathing?” Cash asked, obviously having a really low opinion of me.

“Sure. Breathing nice and easy in a jail cell for the next fifteen years. Though, if he ever gets out, well, I don't doubt Janie might pay him a little visit.”

“Janie?” Cash asked, looking almost guarded at the mention of her.

“She doesn't like when people pick on anyone or anything smaller than them.”

“Who the fuck does?” was his knee-jerk response, like he really meant it, like it bothered him too. God, could he get any more endearing?

“So, um, did you have any trouble at the storage place?” Christ, that was dumb. What was wrong with me? I was a grown ass woman, I didn't mumble and stumble to find decent conversation.

“What the fuck you have in that bag? Bricks?”

“Books,” I clarified immediately, more than a little surprised that he hadn't gone through it (and also extremely relieved). “You didn't look?”

“Of course not. So how long until dinner? Do I have long enough to run to the clubhouse and talk to my brother?”

“Sure.” I mean... it was stew. It would, well, stew for as long as needed.

“Do you still want me to talk to Reign about your situation?”

My eyes shot up to his. Of course I did. That was the deal, wasn't it? But, somehow, I found myself saying instead, “Do you mind keeping this between us for the time being?”

He nodded, chucked me under the chin like a ten year old, and took off, leaving me utterly confused, still completely turned on, and having no idea what to do about either of those things.

So I made stew, and then I ate stew alone when he didn't come back as quickly as he made it sound like he would, then I went through my bag and got one of my books and curled up on the couch to read. I didn't, however, change into my own clothes. And I didn't stop to think about why... because I was pretty sure I already knew the reason.

By the time nine o'clock rolled around, the words on the pages seemed like they were swimming in front of my tired eyes and I bookmarked my page with one of the television remotes and curled up on the couch to watch mindless TV.

I didn't plan on sleeping, but that was exactly what I did.I woke up sometime later to the feeling of someone lifting my legs, sliding under them, and then resting them on top of their jean-covered thighs. I didn't have to look to know it was Cash. No, instead, I kept my eyes closed, enjoying the feel of his warm hand on my bare skin as I pretended I was still asleep.

I heard the sound of his spoon scraping a bowl and knew he was eating. Then his weight shifted forward, his stomach pressing into my legs as he did so, to put his bowl on the coffee table.

I didn't know, however, that he had also picked up my book and pulled it open until his mouth opened to start reading, “'Declan ran his hand up her wet cleft...” My entire body jolted as my eyes flew open, mortification like nothing I had ever experienced before overwhelming my system.

I wasn't lying when I told Reign upon first meeting him that I was a sucker for a good love story. As such, I had a slight obsession with romance novels. And by 'slight obsession', I meant I devoured at least three a week... and they weren't the fade-to-black love scene kind. They were the down and dirty, explicit kind.

That was actually the reason I had decided to stop reading where I had: because the hero and heroine were just about to get it on for the first time and I wanted to be fully focused to be able to enjoy it.

And there was Cash, sitting on the couch next to me, my book in his hands with the half-naked man on the front, reading the sex scene.

Holy shit.

No. That could not be happening. No way in hell was the sexy as heck guy who went down on me the night before figuring out that I was a dirty little closet smut reader. No no no.

“Cash, give me that back,” I demanded, sitting up as fast as my ribs would allow and making a grab for the book.

Cash simply lifted it out of my reach, smiling way too devilishly. “Nuh-uh. This sounds interesting.” I reached for it again, but he swatted my hand again, holding the pages open with one hand and starting to read again. “'His tongue found the swollen, sensitive swell of her clit and started moving over it in slow, light circles until her hands fisted in the sheets and her hips were grinding up into him, begging for more...'”

I wanted to die. Right then and there, I wanted some undetectable blood clot to rush to my heart and just... end it because I simply could never face him again.

“Honey, relax,” his voice said and my gaze lifted to find him looking down at me, no teasing humor on his face like I had expected. If anything, there almost seemed to be... heat.

“Please give me my book back,” I tried, not caring how desperate my voice sounded. I was desperate.

“Do you like this book?”

Oh, hell. “Yes,” I admitted, shaking my head at myself.

“Then why are you so embarrassed?”

“Cash...”

“'Cassidy let out a low moan, reaching down to grab Declan's head, pulling him up her body and wrapping her legs around him...'”

“Please stop reading.”

“Are you getting hot, baby?” he asked, turning to look at me. My legs were pressed tightly together and I was more than a little shocked that I was able to be completely and utterly turned on and mortified at the same time. I had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with the fact that the sex scene was being read in the deep, smooth timbre of his voice. At my silence, he reached out, grabbed my hand and pulled it toward him. I had no idea what he was going to do until I felt my palm press up against the crotch of his jeans where, holy shit, he was hard and straining. “Who'd have thought a book could be as hot as porn?” he said, his lips quirked up.