Cash (The Henchmen MC Book 2)(7)

By: Jessica Gadziala



“'s Janie, leave a message.”

“Shit,” I groaned, ending the call and hitting it again. Three more times. On the fourth, I shook the phone on a growl. “God damn it.”

“Janie flaked on you?” Cash asked from behind me, making me jump. He shouldn't have been able to sneak up on me. I was being careless.

“She's probably just running late.”

“Probably,” he agreed, moving to stand next to me in his annoyingly warm looking black leather jacket. He raised his arms up over his head, arching his back slightly on a groaning stretch that made his tee inch up from the waistband of his jeans and expose a delicious three inches of his tight abs that I found myself not able to look away from. I heard his low chuckle and realized he caught me staring. “Like what you see, honey?”

Oh, good Christ, with the endearments. Was there anything hotter than a guy who used them so readily and with such great variety?

“Eh,” I said, shrugging a shoulder as I made pointed eye contact.

He looked down at me, his eyes smiling at me like he knew I was bullshitting him and weighing if he was going to call me on it or not. Apparently he thought better of it because the next thing I knew, his hand moved out and his finger stroked down my bare goosebumped arm, giving me a shiver for an entirely different reason. “Little cold to be standing out here waiting on a ride,” he observed, his thumb and forefinger snagging the edge of my t-shirt sleeve for a second before pulling away.

I pulled in a slow breath, hoping it would do something to slow my heart slamming in my chest. “I'll be fine,” I said, feigning casualness when there was a very (and I mean very) persistent pulsating between my thighs.

“Lo,” Cash said, his tone taking on a serious edge that made me turn my gaze back to him, brows drawn together. “I get that you're all independent and can handle your own shit, but what point could you be making by standing here in the cold?” he asked, and well, he had a point. “Ask me for a ride, Lo.”

Of course the jerk couldn't just offer me a ride. No, he wanted me to have to ask for it.

I looked down at my phone, still nothing from Janie. I was starting to not only be frustrated, but get genuinely worried. Janie never didn't call or text back. I needed to get back to Hailstorm to see if anyone had heard from her.

I sighed, tucking my phone into my pocket. “Fine. Can you give me a ride?”

“Not gonna say please?” he asked, lips twitching.

“Forget it,” I growled, moving past him to go back toward the house. I'd rather hitch a ride from Summer or Reign than deal with his nonsense.

“Lo, baby, rein in the fucking pride and get on my bike,” he said, sounding every bit as exasperated as I felt.

I turned back to see him already moving down the driveway toward his bike, the gravel crunching under his big boots. I watched his lean, strong body move as he swaggered (god it was so sexy) toward his bike, swinging his leg over, then finally looking up toward me, still standing dumbly on the front steps.

“Oh, fuck it,” I murmured to myself, feeling a chill run through my body as I made my way toward his bike, putting a little extra oomph in my walk because he was staring me down.

“Don't have any helmets, darling,” he said, tilting his head slightly when I got around him. “You're gonna have to trust me,” he said, then the light hit his eyes again, a light I didn't trust, “and hold on tight.”

Oh, shit.

I was totally going to have to hold on.

“Fine,” I said, swinging a leg over the side of the bike and climbing onto the back, holding my body away from his as long as possible.

He chuckled and turned over the bike, then waited. My guess was he was waiting for me to hold on. When I didn't, he let the bike jerk forward until my arms flew out and grabbed the sides of his jacket. “How 'bout this, babe?” he asked, reaching for my hands and pulling them around his front and under (yes under) his tee, settling my freezing hands against his hot skin. I felt myself jolt at the contact, trying to pull away. “Relax,” he murmured in such a low, soothing way that I automatically did. He released my hands and zipped up his jacket to further seal in the warmth. His hands moved to the handlebars and the bike burst into motion.

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