Sugar (The Henchmen MC 12)

It wasn't long until my body was ready for it, for him to fuck me harder, faster, drive me up to the very edge.

Seeming to feel me teetering there, his thumb moved to my clit as his two fingers thrust inside me, turning, and raking relentlessly over my G-spot.

And that was it.

I saw white as the orgasm barreled through my system, seeming to bounce off of each point of contact at the same time, making my legs give out, making my moans become almost painful cries as he just kept fucking me with his fingers and cock, dragging it out until I was completely spent, a boneless thing draped over the counter.

Only then did he plant deep and come.

Afterward, he folded forward, his front pressing into my back, his arms braced beside me, his head in my neck.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he hissed, sounding as awestruck as I was feeling.

That was cheesy, that word.

Awestruck.

But there was no other word to describe it.

"You alright?" he asked several long minutes later when I still hadn't spoken, still hadn't been able to get any of my limbs to follow orders and start working again. "Too much?" he asked when all I managed was some unintelligible rumbling sound.

"No," I managed after a long second.

"No, you're not alright?" he asked, lifting up slightly, voice dipped in concern. "Or no, it wasn't too much?" he asked, getting fully onto his feet, slowly pulling his cock out of me, then reaching down, dragging me up, turning me, pushing me back against the counter to look at me. His gray eyes, yeah, they had the same concern as his voice.

That, well, that was new for me.

The concern.

The guys giving a shit.

Aside from the Rivers and Mallicks, of course.

But that was different.

This? This was new. Foreign.

And good.

God, it felt so good to know someone gave a shit.

"Yes, it was too much. But in a good way," I added when he almost look stricken for a second. "My legs are Jell-O," I added, making him smile.

"Think they can hold you up for a minute while I deal with this," he said, not gesturing, but I knew he meant the condom.

"They will do their best," I agreed, but grabbed the counter just in case as he moved away.

He walked back a moment later, stopping in front of me, stooping down to snag my pants and panties.

He looked up at me then.

Eyes warm.

Smile warm.

Everything warm.

And it did something to me in kind.

It made a slow-moving warm feeling move across my chest.

And I knew then.

I was in so, so much trouble.

"Where's my reward?" he asked when my pants were back in place.

"Your reward?"

"Better have smuggled it out for me. 'Cause I can't take back that orgasm," he said, eyes twinkling.

The cannoli.

"Please, like I would forget something as important as food," I said, smiling as I moved past him, going into the fridge to get the plate of two of them out.

"Go on," he said a moment later, catching me watching him eat.

"Go ahead, what?"

"I know your ass wants to make some blowjob jokes right now," he said, already knowing me too well.

So then I did.

Until I ran out of them.

And the food was gone.

When Savea came out of her room a while later, making a bleary-eyed trip to the bathroom, not even seeming to notice us, we finally realized the night was over.

So Sugar did his chin-snag rough goodbye kiss thing.

And was gone.

I was just climbing into bed after wiping down the kitchen area when my phone beeped on my nightstand.

"Seven."

Like I could forget.TWELVESugar"Another night?" Adler asked when I walked into the clubhouse. "With the mermaid," he added when I closed the door. "She better know what ya two got going on. Unless," he said, looking at me for a long minute. "Ya don't know what ya got going on either."

"Don't," I demanded, shaking my head as I went for the bar.

"Don't what? Say the truth?" he asked, smirking at my discomfort. "Ya have never been a one-woman man. Least since I've known ya. If ya didn't expect some ribbing over this, ya was sadly mistaken."

"We're just... hanging out," I supplied, not even believing it myself.

"Yeah? Every night? Heard ya tell Virgin she cooked for ya too."

"What, did Lo sic you on me?"

"Not sure I get the appeal of the same fuck night after night, but I imagine I could get behind a woman who cooks. Never had a home-cooked meal until Ross got shacked up with Addy. Ever been to a real, American, home-cooked Thanksgiving? It makes a man think he could give all the skirt-chasing up if she knows how to make mashed potatoes and stuffing from scratch."

I'd once had Easter dinner with my mother. But never one of the big holidays. Christmas or Thanksgiving. And, let's face it, not a single man in any of the compounds I had ever been in had any skill at cooking - Repo aside, though he never made us holiday meals. My father once made me boxed mashed potatoes and Stovetop stuffing. It was about the only reference I had when it came to those traditional side dishes.