Page 7 of Covert
"Now you can have eyes in the back of your head."
Nikki simply smiles at me. I swallow again and rub the ache in my chest. Fuck, this is hard.
She seems to see the struggle on my face. She steps closer, careful not to touch me, and her little ankle bracelet jingles. Tears prick my eyelids at the sound.
"You have PTSD, Beckett, from something very traumatic that happened to you. But that doesn't mean you need to punish yourself, too. I just wanted to make life a little easier for you," she says quietly, for my ears only.
I clear my throat again and nod. "Thank you." I wish I could say my voice didn't crack, but it did. She looks at my arm like she wants to touch it, but flexes and balls her hand instead.
Fuck, this woman.
Chapter four
Axel
The new girl is cute as hell.
I liked the way she held her breath as she took me in. I like how her body betrayed what she was thinking.
Baby girl wants me, alright.
I'll give her a week to settle in. She seems like the flighty type.
The things she did for Beckett were thoughtful; I know how much they meant to him. Maddox felt like an asshole that those things had never occurred to him, and that we know Beckett likes to suffer in silence. But we should have done more for him.
Her little ankle bracelet makes me smile whenever I hear it, like Pavlov's dog. And I can see how the way Beckett looks at her has changed. The first few days, it was with trepidation and nervousness; now he watches her with longing and pain. And I wish I could take it all away for him. But I can't fix his trauma response any more than I can make her love him back. Because I'm pretty sure he's already in love with her.
Me? I'm in lust.
I watch her routine. I watch her work. I know Maddox mentioned after the first day how he doesn't expect her to last, but I keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn't feel uncomfortable with any of the clientele, and that she doesn't screw anything up. If she does, I can fix it before Maddox finds out.
At night, I hack into the shop's computer and verify that the accounting is correct and the inventory is good. So far, she's taken to the job like a pro.
She's friendly with everyone who walks in and seems comfortable, even with the drug dealers and strippers. She finds something to complement them, no matter who they are, and they seem to adore her for it.
I wouldn't mind keeping her around. I love being able to look up from my work and catch a glimpse of her leg from around the half-wall. I love how her breath catches every time she's near me. I love making her squirm. Her pale skin blushes pink and red every time I've caught her checking me out, or when I maintain eye contact with her for longer than appropriate.
And she's a nice distraction from what I do at night.
I need to work her up to the idea of letting me in.
We've been open for an hour, and I've done a butterfly tattoo on an ankle and a skull tattoo on the shoulder of a wannabe gangbanger.
Nothing crazy, but nothing exciting either. I get that these types of tattoos pay the bills, but I'm itching to get into something challenging. Something creative.
My restless energy begs me to do something foolish. It begs me to fuck with Nikki just a little more than I normally would.
With an hour before my next appointment, I sneak up to the half-wall. Nikki has her back to me, facing the door in case anyone comes in. She's sitting on the stool with her legs crossed, Kindle in her lap, bottom lip snug beneath her teeth.
I snag the Kindle from her lap, just to see what she's reading, and to get a rise out of her. What? It's how I flirt.
"Hey!" she protests, jumping to her feet and grabbing for the E-reader.
He licks my wet slit before circling his tongue around my clit.
I choke on my own saliva. She reaches around me, but I spin to keep my back to her. She presses her chest into my back as she reaches around the other side.
Porn.
