Page 19 of Covert
I decide one drink can't hurt.
I lock the front doors and then the back before I take my drink from her. I can sleep on the couch when everyone goes home.
Walking to my car, in the dark, while drunk, sounds like it's inviting trouble.
Leana introduces me to the other girls, who shake my hand and seem friendly enough. I sip my Champagne, but can't seem to relax.My eyes shift around the room, to the doors, to the windows. When my eyes scan the room again and I find Beckett watching me, he quirks a brow, in question. I leave the little huddle I'm barely listening to to lean against the wall with him, keeping a respectable distance between us.
"I don't drink, and I don't go to parties, so I'm feeling..." I say as a way of explaining.
He nods and sips his glass.
"You drink?"
"Sprite," he replies, watching the other men playing poker. That makes sense. Being drunk means being vulnerable and opening yourself to being taken advantage of again. We're a lot alike that way.
"Will you watch over me? Make sure I get home okay, or at least lock up if I pass out on the couch?"
The look he gives me is equally surprised and touched. I just inadvertently told him I trust him enough to be drunk around him. I nod with understanding. "I trust you, Beckett. I told you that already."
I sip my Champagne.
"I still don't understand why," he says in response, and I feel my heart ache. This poor man. One stupid, selfish person's agenda and it's fucked up his entire life. We're both just surviving our pasts, not thriving, and I hate the world a little bit because of it. But he doesn't believe me because he hasn't seen it. I haven't proven to him that I trust him. I stand so that I'm facing him and lock eyes with his whiskey brown ones, downing my Champagne as quickly as the bubbles will allow. His eyes widen as he watches me.
A tiny burp escapes me as I finish my glass and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
"Another, Leana," I say, holding my cup out towards the bottle, but never breaking eye contact with Beckett. "If I can walk, you'll walk me home. If I can't, you'll lock the doors on your way out. That way, you don't have to touch me if I pass out, okay?"
Leana woops and fills my cup again. I drink another, staring into Beckett's. As I drink, he shakes his head, smiling like I'm a silly little girl. But the more we stare into each other's eyes, the more they change. They crinkle at the corner at first, but then they melt into sweetness, before hardening and heating. Just his stare alone turns me on. Would he stare into my eyes when he fucks into me slowly? He'd cage me with his arms. I'd wrap my legs around his back, pulling him into me to fuck me harder. My breathing picks up at the same time I start to feel fuzzy from the drink.
I let it wash over me like a blanket, finally quieting some of my anxiety about not being in control. The entire time, Beckett watches me. His eyes drop to my chest, still covered in my oversized sweater, before coming back up to my eyes and narrowing. God, can he tell how turned on I am? What I'm imagining? I hide my face behind my cup, finally breaking eye contact before I combust. My chest is still heaving, and I'm burning up.
He gently takes my cup from me, fingers gripping the rim. "I've got you," he says simply, as he nods toward an empty spot on the floor where Leana is calling me to dance. Two of the other girls are already dancing while Leana hooks her phone up to the Bluetooth.
I pull off my sweater, now too hot, and toss it onto the arm of the couch.
The music changes from rock to something sultry and sexy. The mood in the room changes instantly, too. They've moved the table tothe side to make more room for dancing. Maddox and Axel sit on the couch, both manspreading and looking fucking delicious. Their eyes hold something like a challenge, but my head is too fuzzy to interpret what they're challenging.
Leana holds my hands and raises them above our heads, and I lose myself to the music. I don't dance. I like the music at the shop just fine, but my flip phone doesn't do music, so it's not like I dance in my apartment. But as the alcohol hits my blood and drowns out the noise, I let my hips sway to the sexy rhythm. I feel sexy. And horny. I want to go home to my vibrator. Or climb Beckett like a tree. I bet he would throw me around. Bend me in all sorts of positions. Or be sweet about it and slow.
Maddox would be the one to throw me around. Maybe Axel. I bet Maddox would hate fuck like no one's business. Diesel would be sweet about it, but I bet he has a filthy mouth.
The image of the four of them, naked and surrounding me, is the last thought I can remember before I black out.
***
"Baby girl? Baby girl, are you okay?" Diesel's voice pulls me from unconsciousness as something caresses my cheek.
I groan. My eyelids aren't even open yet, and I can tell there's too much light coming in from the windows. Alarm bells go off in my brain, but I don't know what they mean.
Diesel's not dangerous.
An ice pick splits my skull when I try to move, so I groan again.
And then it hits me.
My eyes fly open and take a moment to focus.
"How did you get in?" I ask, my voice deathly low.
