Page 10 of Nines's Time

MEADOW

Gavril left this morning to go back home after making sure that I was going to be okay. He assured me that if anything happens, he’s only a phone call away. The man also told me that if I need anything and I couldn’t get him, then I was to go to the Devil’s Riot MC.

I promised him that I would, but I know there’s no way in hell I can do that. I all but embarrassed myself in front of them when I ran away as I did. I could barely look at Sniper without being reminded . . . I shake my head, shoving that thought back as far as I can. I don’t need anyone to help me. I can take care of myself.

I decided after Gavril left to take a day to simply do nothing. Normally, I would be working on one of my designs or at the boutique. Today I’m not doing any of that. I spend time binging on Netflix, watchingNCIS. I absolutely love Gibbs and Tony. Oh, and of course, Abby, she’s smart and brazen to dress however she wants and the tattoos. If I could, I’d be just like her, but I couldn’t do it. Not really.

After a while, I give myself a pedicure and open my Kindle app on my phone. I opened one of the new books I’d downloaded and started reading. As I get to one of the sex scenes, I find myself envisioning Nines doing what the couple in the book are doing to me. I clench my thighs together trying to add pressure between my legs where I need it most. I put the eReader down and close my eyes as I lean back against the cushions of my couch.

In my mind, it’s as if he’s standing right in front of me, giving me that sexy smirk. I run my hands down my body tweaking my nipples, leaving one hand to toy with them while I slip the other under the band of my shorts and panties. I gasp at how wet I am. I stroke a finger through my folds, enjoying the feel of them as I envision them being Nines’s. I lift my hips slightly off the couch, moaning as I dip a finger inside my entrance. But in my mind, it’s not mine. It’s Nines’s and he’s toying with me. Slow and easy. Teasing me until I’m begging for him to give me more. I add a second finger and wish I had a vibrator. Something thicker than my nimble fingers.

The orgasm that washes over me doesn’t take away the need for something else, but it helps marginally.

Pulling my fingers from under the band of my shorts, I get up and go into the kitchen to wash my hands. I’m surprised I allowed myself to do something so daring. I’ve never done anything like daydream about a man I don’t even know while touching myself. It’s not who I am, but I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it. Maybe I’ll do it again. Or better, I could order at least a bullet or something to make it even better.

Though I should probably not touch myself again thinking of a complete stranger. No matter how sexy he is.

I mean, technically, I can’t even call him a stranger because I know his name and that he’s a part of a club that I was told I could trust to protect me if I need them. As quickly as the thought pops into my head, I shake it away. I don’t need anyone to do anything for me. And I definitely don’t want my problems put on anyone else.

Drying my hands, I grab a snack and head back to the couch to binge moreNCISuntil I pass out. Tomorrow, I go back to work and, hopefully, I can forget about Nines and how good he looks. This shouldn’t be hard considering I most likely won’t see him again.

* * *

At the sound of the bell over the door ringing, I glance up from the seam of a dress I’m working on to see who’s entered my shop. My heart skips slightly at the sight of who my customers are. Well, I’m sure they’re not here as customers. That is I know one of them isn’t, and I don’t think the other would like anything I sell here. Then again, who knows. But I didn’t think Rain or Sniper are here to shop, not with the way Sniper is looking at me.

I drop the hem of the dress and stand, straightening the front of the chic top I put on this morning. “Can I help you?” I find myself asking as I swallow back my nerves not wanting to seem weak as I’m sure I did when I all but ran from this man in particular.

“Morning, Meadow,” Rain greets me with a warm smile. “The girls have told me so much about this shop, I decided I needed to see it for myself,” she says, glancing around. “Did you make most of these yourself?”

“Um, ugh, no,” I mumble and point toward the racks that contain my pieces. “These are the ones I’ve done myself. If there’s a certain one you’d be interested in and don’t see your size, I can always adjust or put an order in to make one for you. I try not to carry too many of the same things in my designs. I like to be unique in each of my pieces.”

“That’s fantastic.” Rain beams, grabbing hold of Sniper’s bicep, getting his attention. “I’m going to take a look.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Sniper says, smiling and bringing his gaze back to mine as Rain moves away to look at the clothes.

“If you need anything, just let me know,” I state, intending to go back to working on the dress, but Sniper’s voice stops me from moving.

“Your mom’s name is Libby, isn’t it?”

Ice flows through my veins at the name. A name I haven’t heard in a long time. A very, very long time.“I don’t know who that is,” I whisper quietly, lying through my teeth.

“You look just like her,” Sniper says, cocking a brow. “From the way you froze at her name, I’m sure you do know who I’m talking about.”

“Don’t push,” Rain mutters, rejoining her man and placing her hand on his arm. “Remember, I told you to be gentle and calm about this.”

“Did . . . did you know Libby?” I find myself asking before I can stop myself.

Both Rain and Sniper are looking at me now and I feel as if I’m under the microscope.

“Libby was a friend and my son’s aunt. I was with her sister, Linda, when they both disappeared around the same time.”

At the mention of Linda, I feel myself paling. I met her a few times and I know she was nothing more than a whore. My father’s favorite toy to play with when he wasn’t hurting me. I try to shake the memory, but it’s not easy. Not when this man stands in front of me seeming determined to bring up the past I’ve tried to forget about by running away.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” I admit, licking my bottom lip and nervously clenching and unclenching my hands at my sides.

“I just want to know what happened to Libby,” he says gruffly.

“She died,” I answered without thinking. “A long time ago.” I turn away from him and close my eyes as visions of the past make themselves known in my head. The strangled screams of Libby crying out in agonizing pain. The images of her laying there, eyes staring sightlessly up at the ceiling, as my father yelled and threw things because she wasn’t strong enough to do what he wanted. I shake my head at the utter defeat that I feel.

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