Page 45 of Covert
I grip her hips with my hands while her hands cover mine, intertwining our fingers together. Her eyes find mine again, but they're hazy with lust. She slowly rocks her hips back and forth against me, eyes never leaving mine. She circles her hips to the left before circling them to the right. It's not frantic or fast. She's giving me everything. It's not just sex, it's intimacy, vulnerability, it's her baring her soul to me and giving me everything.
So, under the night sky, with the breeze of the river cooling our skin, we rock together, silently making promises, until our orgasm builds slowly, like a storm, until we crash together, holding each other, and promises of a future.
Chapter twenty-three
Beckett
The light tap on my door actually has me smiling. For two weeks, Nikki has snuck into my room for our "touching practice" as she likes to call them. I'm still not 100% comfortable with her touch, but now the chemical cocktail that has my heart racing is equal parts nerves and excitement. I'm obviously not ready to date, or lie a woman down beneath me, but we've had two weeks of touching and the sky hasn't fallen.
Each time she comes, she shares a little bit more about her past, and I'm starting to wonder if we really know anything at all about this woman. It sounds like she's lived 100 lifetimes in her twenty-five years.
She's got a depth to her that her beauty and her outfits hide. I want to probe, ask questions, get to know her better, but after she told us she'd leave if we pressed, I've bit my tongue. Yes, I want to know all about her past, and her life, and her family, but if I can't have that, I want to know about her present. I want to know her favorite foods, movies, and books. I want to know what her dreams are, what her fears are, what she thinks about us. We're a trio of broken misfits, but somehow she fits right in, filling our cracks and bringing us closer together.
But mostly, I want to know what she thinks about me. I know Axel and Maddox want her. Diesel fucking has her already. But what about me? Could she want me the way I want her? Could she see herself with someone like me? Could she want more with someone like me?
The way she comes to me every night, the patient way we touch in the dark, the sad and scary stories she tells me. It feels as if we're building something bigger than a friendship. I'm friends with Axel and Maddox, but in the stunted masculine way that doesn't let us go deeper than the surface.
And then Nikki comes in, fuzzy socks and all, and shares her deepest darkest secrets while we share small touches in the dark. It's incredible. It's something I never knew I needed. I'd resigned myself to dying anxious and alone.
But Nikki took one look at me, saw beyond my appearance, and decided I was worth the effort. What kind of woman does that? What kind of woman would waste her time with a monster like me, when she has dozens of other men she could be spending her time with that are less broken. Why put in this kind of effort if I may never be better?
But she comes in anyway, like she always does, sits on my bed facing me, and lays her palm out face up.
She's got a fire in her that isn't afraid of anything. And a softness that gives space to my demons. She's an incredible enigma that I just can't believe would spend time with me.
I watch her for a beat longer than normal, simply appreciating the woman in front of me.
She watches me back, patient as ever.
I place my palm in hers confidently. Sure, my heart's racing, but I'm pretty sure it's because of the woman in front of me. She looks fucking edible in a baggy sweater, skirt, and fuzzy socks. I want lazy Sunday mornings with her. I want to cook dinner with her every night. I want vacations, and holidays, and fights with her.
We'd argue over something stupid, because let's be real, there isn't anything I wouldn't do or give this woman. We'd argue over whether tiramisu or crème brûlée is better. She'd get all fiery and feisty at me. She'd threaten to kick my ass. I'd probably let her. And we'd end up cuddled up together on the couch, me compromising that whatever she loved is clearly the better dessert. If only because she loved it.
With a small bit of newfound confidence, I slide my palm up her wrist to clasp the inside of her arm. She lets out a tiny gasp at the contact and inches closer, giving me more access to the rest of her body.
We sit like this for a few beats, both of us working through whatever this is. Her eyes scan my face. She raises her hand to my face and pauses for my permission. I swallow, but nod. I feel safer with her than I have with anyone else for a while. Her tiny palm grazes my cheek, and her eyes follow the movement.
"God, you really are gorgeous, aren't you?"
No other woman has ever looked at me the way Nikki does. No other woman has looked at me like I'm anything other than a monster, capable of heinous acts of violence. I'm drunk on the trust and adoration this woman has given me.
My eyes dart to her lips. God, she's right there. She's inches from me. She's so close I can smell her shampoo. If I were a better man, I could pull her into my lap and kiss her. I could lay her down and kiss the breath out of her. I could make love to her until she saw stars. God, I would give anything to be that man. That man who could return the pleasure she's given me.
God, it's a bad idea. It's a terrible idea. What if she freaks out because I'm reading all this the wrong way? What if I freak out because it's too intimate?
I've thought about kissing her for months now. What she would feel like, what she would taste like, if she'd want me to kiss her at all.
I'm driving myself crazy, drowning in what-ifs. But she's RIGHT THERE, and she's looking at me like she wants to kiss me, but is holding back for my sake.
Groaning, I pull her into my lap. "Fuck it," I growl before I drag her face to mine and kiss her plump, soft lips. She gasps, but she's instantly kissing me back. She straddles me and I'm instantly hard. Her skirt's up around her waist, and I can feel how warm her core is.
She pulls back, saying breathlessly, "Wait. Stop."
I freeze.
Oh, fuck.
I fucked up.
