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He watched me with that damn look for what felt like a solid minute.
"Wow," he said, nodding. "Alright."
With that, he climbed out of my bed, reaching out to stroke Hannibal's head before walking out of my room.
Then, after a short pause as he dragged on his clothes, out of my life.
It absolutely should not have, but undeniably did make a pang move through me.
A pang I was choosing to ignore as I put my book away, knowing there was no way I would be able to concentrate on it, let alone enjoy it.
Reaching for my phone, I scrolled for Jamie instead.
"I'm home and safe."
"What's wrong?" she asked with her superhuman ability to pick up on even the most subtle changes in my voice.
"You know how no guy has ever gotten under my skin?"
"Oh, for god's sake," she said, sounding like she was both groaning and laughing at the same time. "Please tell me it was the bartender and not the biker."
"When have I ever been the one to make things easy?"
"So how did you handle it?"
"I handled it," I said, tone definitive.
And so I did.
Or so I thought I did.SIXSugarWhat 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.
