Page 29 of Covert (Ruthless Love #2)

Chapter twenty-six

Nikki

T he next day, before we open the shop, they insist on taking me shopping for riding leathers.

They say if I'm going to ride with them, I need to be protected - dress for the slide, not the ride.

And I'll be honest, I'm not brave enough to ride just in my dresses and a cardigan.

But it does mean having to bring a bag with me and changing whenever I get to work. But I don't mind.

The thrill of the engine between my thighs, the freedom of the open road, the adrenaline of the speed, and feeling so completely in sync with another human being is addictive.

The store seems to be divided between two types of riders - those like Diesel and the MC club, old school Harley riders, and hobby riders, with leather jackets and vests, and leather pants with tassels.

The other side seems more designed for those who ride crotch rockets, with suits that closely resemble body armor.

Axel and Maddox picked their favorites for me to try on. I roll my eyes as I step out of the changing stall. The jacket alone costs more than $400. I can't afford this. And I'm wildly uncomfortable with the boys paying. But they said to ditch Betty, and it's honestly not a bad idea.

Whoever broke into my apartment could have watched me get into it when I called the boys in a panic and could identify me by her. It's better this way. I'll just need to figure out how to pay them back.

But money is the last thing on my mind when I see the boys' reaction.

Pink crawls up Beckett's neck to the top of his ears, and he blows out a slow, controlled breath.

I preen under the reaction. He's such a big, tough guy, and we've just cracked his intimacy issues, so his reaction feels like a win.

Maddox, sitting on one of the chairs near the changing area, lazily peruses my body with his eyes. They darken as he licks his lips. Axel actually covers himself with both hands and turns away from me.

"Jesus Christ, babe. Are you trying to kill me?" I smile. His riding leathers are tight. I'm sure there's not much room for an erection.

"I guess these are the ones, then?"

Maddox doesn't reply. He simply stands, tugs the tags off the clothes before stomping to the checkout counter and slamming them onto it, his credit card following after.

The guy behind the counter, an older man in his fifties, checks me out from head to foot. Only to have Beckett stand between us and cross his arms. I love that he feels confident enough to be territorial over me.

So, when they mount their bikes, I climb on the back of his instead.