SIX
Sugar
What the fuck was that?
See, I'd known a lot of women in my life. Carnally. I'd fucked them in the clubhouse and scooted them out after. I'd screwed them in their places, rushing out as soon as we'd finished.
But I had never been fucking kicked out.
My brain wasn't exactly working right as I walked bare-ass naked out of her bedroom and through her apartment to shrug into my clothes, looking around at the pile of books on her coffee table and the flower pillo- no, those weren't flowers. They were cocks. On her pillows.
Fucking strange ass, interesting, unique woman.
As I slipped my cut back over my tee, I took a deep breath, reaching to lock the door before I pulled it closed.
It wasn't until I was back on my bike that the reality really settled down on me.
I just literally got kicked out of bed.
After giving the woman three orgasms that absolutely surpassed her expectations.
And she had gone from soft and open to closed down and prickly in a matter of minutes.
I had no goddamn idea what to even think of that as I turned over my bike and drove back to the compound, finding Virgin, Roderick, and Adler hanging out in the common area sharing some beers. Beers I made a bee-line for.
"Not bad," Adler said, glancing at the clock. "No waiting until she fell asleep and sneaking out?"
My head shook, my brain a little too overwhelmed to think better of admitting the truth. "She kicked me out after we fucked."
There was a second of confused silence before they broke out in smiles and, in Virgin's case, a deep, rich laugh at my expense. What were buddies for but to laugh at you when you were down?
"No shit," Adler said, still grinning. "What'd ya do wrong?"
"Not a fuckin' thing," I said, dropping down into the empty space beside Roderick.
"In my experience, women don't kick ya out on yer arse if ya do everything right," he told me, smirking. "I know this since I've never done anything wrong," he added.
"Who was it?" Adler asked.
"This mermaid-haired, tattoo-covered chick," Virgin supplied for me. "His whipped ass waited hours for her to come out of the bar so he could take her home."
"The hearse chick?" Adler guessed.
"That'd be her."
"Yer pride a little bruised, huh?" he asked, enjoying my situation. "She probably just had an itch to scratch. These days, it's not just clubwhores who don't want commitment."
"I don't want commitment either," I rushed to say.
"Oh, we're talking my language," Lo's voice said, appearing from nowhere, wearing her usual olive-green utility pants and a tan tank top that did nothing to hide her tits that any woman would be jealous of. Her long blonde hair was pulled back, a smile lighting up her eyes. "Has it finally happened?" she asked, dropping down on the arm of Adler's chair. "Has someone caught his eye?"
"And then kicked him out of bed," Roderick supplied.
"No shit," she said, smile curving higher. "Who is it? A girl who can resist a Henchmen. She must be something special."
"Think her name is Peyton," Virgin supplied, shrugging when I shot him a look.
Lo's smile froze then slowly fell. "Peyton?" she asked, tone suddenly serious. "Does she have a nose piercing, colored hair, and tattoos?"
"Yeah," I supplied, curious at her change in mood.
"The librarian who works with Reese?"
"Again, yeah."
"Peyton Reid," she said, exhaling out her breath slowly. "You do know who her sister is married to, right?"
Of course I did, but Adler spoke up before I could say anything.
"'Spose ya tell us all?" Adler asked. The nosey bastard.
"Eli Mallick," she supplied, giving me a pointed look. "And she's tight with the Rivers brothers too."
"Rivers," Adler parroted. "As in Kingston Rivers?" he asked. Adler knew a lot about all the people worth knowing in Navesink Bank. Not because he had been around long. In fact, he was newer than all of us. But because, unlike men like Virgin and me, he hadn't set out to be a biker, to prospect at the compound. No, he had chosen to shop around, see where he might want to settle down. So he knew about Sawyer and his investigator firm. He knew about Quin and his fixer firm. About the Mallicks and their loansharking and enforcing. About Hailstorm and, well, all their activities. And he knew about Kingston Rivers, a name I had only maybe heard once, and couldn't remember why.
"Kingston, yes. And Nixon. And Atlas. And Rush... Rivers," Lo supplied with a nod. "Who, in case all of you were wondering at all, had been armed robbers before settling down with their new businesses."
Shit.
I could sure pick them.
Of all the girls in town, I went home with one hooked up with enforcers and armed robbers.
Sounded about right.
"It was casual," I said, shrugging, not sure why there was a pit in my stomach about it.
"Yeah. That might be your saving grace," Lo agreed, hopping up. "I know you're new and don't know the Mallicks and Rivers well, but let me tell ya, they are protective of their women. And Peyton is theirs now. They know she's a crazy ass, so they let her have her fun, don't step in much. But if they heard she was getting dragged around by the heart by a Henchmen, you'd be hearing it."
"No worries. She kicked him out of bed," Roderick supplied happily.
To that, Lo didn't even bother trying to hold in her laugh. "Only seen her once or twice, but I have a feeling I'd like her."
"She's a fucking trip," I agreed.
"He couldn't keep his eyes off her at Kennedy's today," Lo's guy from Hailstorm supplied, surprising all of us because they never engaged in our normal conversations.
"Don't need your help," I shot back at him, only making him smile.
"When he wasn't looking at his phone, he was watching her talk to Benny."
"I liked you better silent," I told him, making him chuckle as he moved back outside. "Don't," I told Lo, shaking my head.
"Don't what? Whatever could you mean?" she asked, feigning innocence, a show she didn't put on well.
"It's not what you're thinkin'," I insisted as I reached for another beer. "She was hot. You look at hot chicks. That's it."
"Except then you waited hours for her to come out of the bar," Roderick piped back in. "Been on the town with you countless times, man. You strike out, you move onto the next hot chick. They've always been interchangeable to you."
The thing was, he wasn't wrong.
One hot girl was as good as the next hot girl when it came down to sex. All that mattered was willingness and acceptance of a one-night thing. I had never worked for it. I had never needed to, first of all. But no man could go through life without being turned down a time or two. Even me. And on those rare occasions, I just moved on.
I didn't wait outside like some motherfuckin' lovesick teenager.
So, really, I deserved the ribbing.
I tipped back my beer, shaking my head.
"She asked if going over all the potholes on my bike causes brain damage," I admitted, figuring it was always better to participate in your own ridicule than to sit there and let them know it was getting to you. "Then she told me that she had a woman to see get decapitated, and my breathing on her would ruin it."
"The fuck?" Virgin asked, brows drawing low.
But Lo just laughed. "Reese said Peyton reads really twisted shit. Serial killers. Rape fantasy. Snuff erotica. She sneaks them onto the 'Staff Recommends' section at night, leading all the little old men and ladies to complain the next day. She gets off on that kinda thing."
"What?" I asked when as soon as she finished speaking, her eyes started twinkling.
"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all."
"Why is it I don't fuckin' believe you?" I asked, small-eyeing her.
All I got in response was a sly smile that didn't make sense at the time.
Or the next day.
It was Monday morning when I finally understood the look.
Because one of her guys came up to me in the kitchen, telling me that Lo needed him.
And that I needed to head over to the library to keep an eye on Reese.
Where I was informed I only had to watch her until four when Cy would show up to take her home... because Peyton was coming in for her shift.
Fuckin' Lo.
Wouldn't be happy until she paired everyone up.
But this one time, yeah, she was going to fail.
"What, are you trying to kill me, Ree?" Peyton's voice called a while later as I was sitting just around the bend from the front desk, a stipulation Reese made, not wanting scary outlaw bikers or paramilitary people scaring off the kids and old folks at the reception desk. I had one of Peyton's recommended books in my hands, casually reading it when I could hear Reese talking, so I knew everything was fine.
Lo was right; it was fucked up shit.
I'd been involved with a lot of twisted shit in my life, but even my fuckin' stomach was rolling reading this crap.
"What?" Reese asked, her milk-and-honey voice sounding innocent. But, unlike Lo, it wasn't an act. She just was sweet that way.
"Denver," Peyton said with a sigh, slamming something down on the desk.
"It's a great book!" Reese insisted.
"Yeah yeah yeah. Great."
"Just because no one was brutally murdered in it doesn't mean it wasn't good."
"Ree, you sweet, awful thing you... do you have any idea what it is like to read sex scenes like that without having someone to take care of you afterward? I buzzed through a set of freaking batteries over that book, and I still feel like I can't function. We both know that after a man like Denver, you don't want Mr. Good Vibrations; you want the weight and touch of a man."
"You've never had trouble finding someone to get into your bed," Reese said, voice hushed.
"Ugh, don't get me started," Peyton said dramatically.
"What?"
"There's this gu... never mind," she said, cutting herself off. And Reese was too nice to call her on it. "No relationship books for me. Throw all the medieval torture my way, please. Oh, lookie. Your hot beard just walked in."
"He has a name. And, you know, a body," Reese said, sounding amused.
"Yeah, but who cares about his name and his body with a beard like that?"
"Peyton, honey, how have you been?" Cy asked, catching sight of me in his peripheral, then turning his head, brows drawn together. "Why are you pulling this shift?" he asked, and I knew my hiding spot was just found out. No more eavesdropping for me.
I stood, closing the book with my finger in it to keep my place, and moved out from the curve in the wall.
"Were you there the whole time?" Peyton snapped, voice accusing. Like I had been hiding from her. And, in a way, I had.
"Yep."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Peyton asked, looking over at Reese who looked lost.
"Someone is always here lately. You know that."
"Yeah, Cy. Or one of those yummy military guys. Not him."
"Uh-oh," Cy said, looking between both of us with a wicked smirk. "Are you two having a lover's spat?"
"We're not lovers," Peyton insisted, just a bit too quickly. Seeming to sense that herself, she shot Cy a grin. "Lovers implies lovemaking. And I think we both would agree that I am not a lovemaking kind of girl. I'm a fucking kind of girl."
"Peyton!" Reese shushed her with big eyes, jerking her head over toward where two women were perusing the new additions section.
"What? Oh, them?" she asked, turning to look at them. "Sharen, Alicia," she greeted the women who turned with smiles. "How did those rabbits work out for you? Better than the bullets?"
Anyone who knew a goddamn thing about such matters knew they weren't discussing bunnies or guns.
Nope.
They were talking about vibrators.
"Peyton," Reese said again, voice smaller. "You're going to get yourself fired one of these days."
"Replaced by whom? No one else would work my shift for the peanuts they throw at me. So they pretend to look the other way and talk about me behind my back. It all shakes out. So you're all heading out?" she asked, looking pointedly at me before settling on Cyrus.
"Yeah, gotta get my woman home. I believe she has a hot date with a... Marquis."
"Viscount," Reese corrected, then shot me a shy look.
"Have fun," she told Peyton, then looked at Cyrus. "I know you will once she gets to the good parts," she added as Cy slung his arm around Reese's shoulders. "And you're still here because..." she said after the couple moved out the automatic doors.
"Sh," I said, leaning back against the wall. "I'm reading," I said, pulling the book back open again.
Why?
I had no fucking idea.
I should have been taking my ass back to the compound and getting some sleep since Roan was going to tap me to relieve him for the watch shift around four in the morning.
But I didn't want to go home and sleep.
For reasons I was choosing not to analyze.
Though there was no denying - not even to myself - that it had every-fucking-thing to do with the mermaid behind the counter pretending like she wasn't noticing me, but her eyes drifted over every few minutes as she shuffled papers and checked out books and told a group of kids to take it into the teen room, that she was the only one around here allowed to drop f-bombs and talk about casual sex.
It wasn't until about an hour later that she finally snapped.
"Leave."