Cyrus (The Henchmen MC 9)

"Good to know. So, you're willing to go there with me?"

Willing?

Willing wasn't the right word.

Ecstatic. Thrilled. Delighted. In-a-tizzy.

Those were more accurate.

My lips tipped up. "I guess we can give it a shot."

"Thank fuck. Alright. I'm gonna go now. Because, if I don't, I'm going to be going back on my 'take it slow' vow. Don't," he said when I went to open my mouth to say that maybe I was okay with that. "I only have so much willpower here, Ree," he said, hands moving down my shoulders to my hips, then slowly back up over my ribs, giving me another shiver. "You really were in a rush this morning, huh?" he asked oddly, making my brows draw together.

"Huh?"

"You forgot to put on a bra," he informed me, fingers tracing over the sides of my breasts through the thin material of my shirt.

Oh, God.

I did. I did forget the bra.

I never forgot a bra.

And it was chilly out.

"Had a hail of bullets all around us, and all I could focus on was the way these," he informed me, thumbs moving out to graze over my slightly hardened nipples, making them tweak all the more, "were pressing into my chest."

His gaze lifted, finding my eyes.

Even I could tell how full of desire they were, my sex clenching so hard it was actually painful with need for fulfillment.

"Tell me to leave," he demanded softly as his hands cupped under my breasts.

"Stay," I said instead, everything within me demanding it.

There was that rumbling, growling noise again.

But his hands slid away from my breasts, down my belly, and sank into my hips, giving them a firm squeeze.

"You're killing me, angel," he declared.

I took a breath, drawing in some strength along with my oxygen, knowing that tonight would be amazing, but so would taking it slow.

I was always a sucker for a slow burn.

In fiction.

Now I was just getting one in real life.

"Your brother is waiting for you," I managed to remember.

You know, his brother, who he called... because we had been shot at.

I was pretty sure that was what my mind was supposed to be focused on, not the kiss.

But, good lord, what a kiss!

"Guess I should be getting back to them, huh?" I felt myself nod, even though my heart wasn't truly in it. "Fine, if you insist," he said with a small smile as he released one of my hips, steering me with him to the door. "I want you to lock all these fuckers after I leave," he demanded, waving at my locks.

"I will."

"Okay. I will find and charge my cell. And I won't miss anything else, I promise."

With that, he reached behind my neck as his face lowered, pressing his lips to mine.

I was pretty sure he meant for it to be a two-second goodbye kiss, but as soon as his lips met mine, there was no stopping until we were both starved for air, until my lips were tingling, until I was almost swaying on my feet.

"Goodnight, angel," he said, tracing his finger down my nose, then going out the door, closing it quietly behind him.

As for me, well, I stood there numbly for a long second before his voice called through to me. "I don't hear the locks sliding. What if someone wants to come in and steal your beloved signed copy collection?"

His voice was teasing, and I felt my lips curve upward until my cheeks hurt as I moved forward to start sliding the locks.

"Good girl," he said, and I could hear his footsteps retreating.

I leaned back against my uber-locked door, grinning into my apartment.

My eyes drifted over to Knightley, bubbles coming out of his mouth as he opened it.

"I know. I'm sorry. Your poor, virgin eyes. Next time, we will take it into the bedroom."

Oh, good God, yes.

Cyrus.

In a bedroom.

With me.

Dreams, big, crazy, amazing, impossible dreams... they did come true.

Mine did.

I was no longer "just friends" with Cyrus.

My mind in a swoony, dreamy state, it was maybe the first night of my life when I didn't pick up a book at all. Not even to read a blurb. Nothing.

Because for the first time, real life was better than fiction.TENCyrusI needed to get my head on straight, I realized as I walked up the yard toward the clubhouse. All the bikes were in the lot. Meaning it was time for an emergency church session.

Reign had even left his grieving wife and children for it.

So you knew it was serious.

But shaking the thoughts of Reese was proving, ah, difficult at best.

Because shit just went down.

And it was something I wanted to be able to think about. Like her body pressed to mine, her nails digging into my back, her quiet whimpers as my lips claimed hers, as my tongue toyed with hers. The way her eyes were begging for more. Her breasts in my hands. Her invitation to stay.