Sugar (The Henchmen MC 12)

It was the crazy - but sexy as fuck - way she dressed.

Her confidence.

Her whacked sense of humor.

Her clear love of her friends, and her willingness to stand up for them when one got shit on.

Her ink, hair, piercings which screamed 'fuck off' to conventional ideas of beauty.

Her just... her-ness.

Her.

Fuck.

I was just digging it.

And that, yeah, that was some fucked up shit, man.

I didn't forget I invited her. I had, at times, been counting down the days. Today just so happened to be full of my old life shit, and I had lost track of time.

But here we were, closing in at ten.

And she was walking in the door.

Only half-clothed.

Looking like fucking sin.

No wonder Lo's guy was grinnin' at me.

"Fuck me," Adler hissed, looking almost pained as he did an up-down.

Peyton's gaze had been immediately on me, all dark and promising, but at the sound, her eyes slid to Adler, her lips tipping up, her eyes going all sultry on a dime. I almost felt bad for the fuck. Because I knew what was going to come out of her mouth before it even did, and what effect it would have on him.

Meaning a hard-on in a split second.

I would know.

I had had that look on me more than a few times.

"Hmm," she said, letting the sound rumble through her. "Maybe someday," she said, moving toward him, patting her hand into his chest. "But, I regret to inform you, I am here for someone else."

"Who? I'll fight 'em for a chance at ya."

"You know," she said, smile moving around the room at everyone who was just barely managing to keep their tongues in. This woman seeped sex. "That might get me all revved up," she said, moving over to the chair, dropping her perfect ass down on the arm, raising an arm, and waving at me. "I'm here for Suga Suga. Take him down," she demanded. "Winner gets me."

"Already have you, baby," I told her, moving across the room toward her, snagging her chin, dragging her back onto her feet by it, then claiming her lips.

Not short and sweet either.

No.

I fucked her mouth with mine.

Right there in front of all of my brothers.

Until she fucking swayed into me.

I pulled away sometime later, watching as her eyes slow-blinked open like she couldn't focus. Her hand went to my chest, but her head swiveled back to Adler, all heavy-lidded and needy - from me. "Yeah, he has me," she said in that breathy, sex-soaked tone that made a groan move through the man.

"He proves disappointing," Adler said, not giving up that easily, "I'm here for ya."

It was bullshit, of course.

Once a woman - who was not a clubwhore - was claimed by one of us, unless the other had permission, she was off-limits.

"Good to know," she said, trailing a finger down my chest, then stomach, only stopping when she met my jeans, her eyes moving up to mine, clearly knowing what she was doing to me... and loving it. "But I think I'm going to play with this one for a while still," she said, and my cock stirred even more to life.

"Are you coming with us still?" Roderick asked, clearly ready to get going. Knowing him, he would start at Lenny's place before finishing at Chaz's where he could find a woman to take him home.

"Going? Where are we going?" she asked, eye-fucking the shit out of me.

"Bar," Virgin said, already halfway to the door. The poor fuck.

"It sounds like a tequila night. Do they have a bar to dance on?" she asked, making my brows knit. Seeing it, she smirked up at me. "I tend to dance on them when I've had too much tequila."

"I will build you a fuckin' bar just to see that," I told her, making her smile. And it lit up her face. Lit the fuck up.

"Just let me have that mental image for a second," she said, closing her eyes. "Okay. Got it in there."

"In where?"

"My spank bank," she declared, loud as she usually was, completely unconcerned about her audience. Hell, maybe even relishing it.

"Don't need a spank bank, baby," I told her as she turned, throwing my arm across her shoulders. "You got an itch, you call me. Got it?"

"Ohh, bossy," she murmured, but she was smiling. "Are we taking your bike again?"

"You want to take my bike again?" I asked as we stepped outside.

"Yes. That is always a yes. In fact, I want to be bent over that bike at some point. Oh, hey!" she declared suddenly, making Cash visibly jerk backward.

"No," he said, voice uncharacteristically firm, looking at me.

"No?" I asked, brows going together.

His eyes slid to Peyton. "What are you doing here?"

"Going drinking," she declared. It was casual. Yet... not. I didn't know her well enough to give the tone a name, but I would swear it was something akin to... a warning? Like she was daring him to tell her not to do something. Given that the woman clearly had a rebellious streak, I guess that made sense. "Want to come? We could have a shots-off."