Page 8 of Covert
Nikki's reading porn.
Nikki reads porn all day.
Has she been sitting here, getting all worked up and horny, every day? Just feet from where I work?
Holy shit, and what does she do when she gets home?
An image of Nikki on her back, chest heaving as she gets herself off, makes my mouth go impossibly dry.
She almost snags it from me, so I raise it higher. She's a short little thing, and I secretly love feeling her squirm against me.
"Give me that back!" she shouts, in a petulant protest.
"He finger-fucks me against my bedroom door until I come, screaming his name..." I read aloud, loud enough for the guys to hear me, too.
Nikki finally stops squirming. Beckett and Maddox both look up from their empty stations. Maddox was eating ramen, and his chopsticks paused midway to his mouth, mouth agape.
"Nikki's been reading porn all day."
She balls her little hands into fists at her side before raising one hand out flat, waiting for me to give her the Kindle back. I'm tempted to go on, but I don't want to seriously offend her; I just want to tease her a little. Steal a little of her attention.
"It's called smut, and I'm not embarrassed. Everyone loves sex. Why wouldn't they want to read about it?"
She looks me dead in the eye. She says she's not embarrassed, but the pink on her neck and cheeks says otherwise.
I give her a long, heated stare, daring her to look away first, as I place the Kindle back in her waiting hand.
I drop my voice, both in pitch and tone. "Good to know," I say lowly, stepping in closer to her.
She grips the Kindle and spins away from me, but when she does, a flash of silver on the back of her neck catches my attention.
She regains her seat on the stool, and I take the opportunity to learn more about her.
I sweep the rest of her long, black hair to the side of her neck and confirm what I thought I saw. An ugly, vertical scar, right in the center of her neck.
I trace my thumb down it, which causes her to shiver. Her hand slaps mine out of the way to cover the scar, and she turns to look up at me. Instead of lust or anger, her features are tight with fear.
"What happened here?" I ask, raising my other hand to trace it again. Except she doesn't move her hand, so I end up sweeping the back of her knuckles instead.
"Please," she whispers, a tinge of desperation in her voice. "Please don't ask that."
My brow pulls together in confusion. What could have possibly caused that scar? What could she possibly be hiding? Did someone else do that to her? It's raised, jagged, and messy. It doesn't look like she got the stitches it likely needed. Was she stabbed? In a caraccident? What kind of accident would happen just to the back of her neck? Did she do it to herself?
The confusion grips my mind and steals all of my restless energy. She's a question I need to figure out. An enigma. This beautiful, innocent, apparently sexual woman with a past we know nothing about.
Nikki Smith has just become my newest target.
Chapter five
Diesel
Ifollow Scar's broad back into Ruthless Ink for my appointment. I try not to let pride overwhelm me, but I've put in long, thankless hours for years to earn my MC patch.
The Sinners and Saints have been my family for the past three years. I'd gotten to know Scar when he'd come into my old man's shop just to shoot the shit. I don't think my old man was ever a member, but Scar and he were friends. So, when my dad suddenly passed from a stroke, I knew the only place I wanted to go was there. To become a full-blood member.
I remember watching in awe as Scar and a few of the S&S crew would come by, and I'd watch them from behind an old mustang. They were happy together. They laughed, drank beer, and smoked cigarettes, and I remember growing up thinking they were just the coolest people on Earth. Seeing the camaraderie they had was what I wanted as I got older. That sense of belonging and family.
So, I cleaned up vomit from the clubhouse carpet after parties, drove to three different AutoZones to find a part in stock, stayed up for twenty-four-hour shifts as a guard, and did every thankless job a proby like me needed to do to prove my loyalty.
