Page 9 of Covert (Ruthless Love #2)

Chapter seven

Nikki

" Y ou haven't fucked them yet?"

I choke on a strangled gasp.

"What?!" I cough out a sputtered exclamation while I rearrange my tongue and saliva in my mouth.

Penny stares at me from behind her glasses, incredulously.

"The three hotties you work with. You haven't slept with them?"

We're at the library, after hours, at book club, chatting about the MC Why Choose Leana picked for us this week. She thinks she's funny. And apparently, she's told the rest of the book club about Beckett, Axel, and Maddox.

"No!" I exclaim after taking a sip of water from my bottle.

"Why not? Leana showed me pictures, and I stalked their Instagram. They're freaking gorgeous. I bet the big one would throw you around like a rag doll." I love Penny, but the sprite of a woman is a little unhinged. She fans herself with the book.

I'm protective of Beckett, so her thinking about him like that has my hackles raised.

It's been a week since Diesel's party, and I've just gotten into the groove at work. Sure, I think they're hot, and Axel's a shameless flirt, but I'm not going to cross that line with them. They're my bosses, and I need this job.

I keep telling myself that, but every time Axel turns his trucker cap backward and gives me that look, my arguments get a little flimsier .

Every time I catch Beckett watching me, every time I see Maddox's nostrils flare when I'm around, the hussy in the back of my mind goes 'what if?'

I shake my head. It's a harmless attraction. We're attractive people who have to see each other all the time because of a workplace forced proximity. That's it. We're red-blooded, sexual creatures. Our hormones are high. It doesn't help that I read smut all day. I should probably stop that.

But I have enough self-control to resist them. Maybe.

I glare at Penny and count the reasons on my fingers.

"One, Beckett doesn't like to be touched, so I'm being respectful of his trauma.

Two, I work with them. It would be so awkward to work together after I know what their 'O' face looks like.

Three, say we got together and they got jealous, and one of them quit.

They're friends, I can't come between that.

Four, I'm sort of kind of involved with someone else. "

Leana plops down on the floor next to me, bumping my shoulder with hers. "Yeah, her hot MC boyfriend," she wiggles her eyebrows at me. "Taken him for a ride yet?"

My cheeks heat. No, I have not "taken him for a ride", but I've come to the image of him a lot.

He's been texting me, and it's sweet as hell.

'Good morning, Beautiful's’, and 'good night baby girls', and random pictures throughout the day.

He took a picture of a wildflower, but the text said it wasn't prettier than me.

He's laying it on thick and corny, and each text pulls my heart towards his a little bit more.

He's so unapologetically himself, and knows what he wants and isn't afraid to go after it. I'm equally envious and proud of him.

I reply with eye-roll emojis and gifs, but each day it's getting harder to keep him at a distance, mentally and emotionally.

I haven't had the heart to turn him down over text.

I keep telling myself I'll do it the next time I see him in person.

But if I'm really honest with myself, it's because I don't want to.

I like the attention. I like his thoughtfulness.

And maybe his own authenticity and honesty make me wonder what my life would be like if I could be as authentic and honest as he is.

Letting myself run away with the fantasy has embedded itself in my heart, and if I reject him, even softly, that little part of my heart will break. And I just don't have it in me yet.

Penny won't let it go, though. She holds up her own hand and counts on her fingers.

"One, even a man can be trained. Two, you work with them, so you could easily have quickies during the day.

Three, it's called why choose, and they'll only get jealous if you don't have the talk beforehand about expectations. Four, refer back to three."

My cheeks heat even more. I imagine all three of them, naked and surrounding me, and I lose my breath. Holy shit. I'd never recover. I'd die, right then and there, and they'd be blamed for my death.

Leana laughs, tilting her head to the ceiling.

"She's imagining it," she tells Penny. She leans toward me and whispers in my ear.

"Imagine getting all that dick. Dick all day, baby girl.

" My pussy clenches around nothing. She knows that's Diesel's pet name for me.

She demanded a debrief on the way home after the party, and I'm unable to tell her anything but the truth.

At least when it comes to Diesel. I need a third perspective.

Someone to tell me it's a bad idea, but all she's been doing is shipping us hard.

I'm flushed with embarrassment and barely restrained need. My vibrator will be getting an extra workout tonight, and I'm almost afraid of the images the four of them will conjure up for my mental spank bank .

Leana graciously takes the attention off of me, though, as she leads us through the questions and favorite parts of this week's book.

It's not lost on me why people love MC smut.

A rugged bad boy who is soft just for you?

Yes, please. One who has women available to him all the time but chooses to stay faithful to you?

Diesel and I haven't had that talk yet, but the idea of him with Candy, or any of the other girls, has me feeling a little green.

I take out my phone and flip it open. These little Nokia Razrs are hard to find anymore, but this one only has one hinge and is still working great. Typing on it is a pain in the ass, though.

Me: Thanking of you

His response is immediate.

Diesel: Always thinking of you. When can I see you again?

I bite my lip nervously. I want to see him again, but I can't bring him to my apartment. My thumbs hover over the keyboard as I debate what to say.

But before I come up with an answer, he texts again.

Diesel: There's a party this weekend. Can I pick you up? Friday at eight?

I nod, even though he can't see me. That would work. He could pick me up in front of my apartment, or he could drive me to and from.

Me: Can Leana come?" I feel like she's my safety person. I'd feel better when she's there.

Diesel: Of course! Does she have her own ride, or should I bring the truck?

Leana looks over my shoulder and reads the convo, and I let her.

"Oh, I can totally drive myself, so you get the chance to be his sexy little backpack."

"But doesn't that mean..." I blanche. At least in MC romance novels, the MMC putting a woman on the back of his bike is not just a convenient mode of transportation; it's a statement —a public claiming.

I imagine us rolling up to the party with me on the back of his bike.

It'd be a statement, letting everyone else know that I belong to him and not to mess with me.

I bite my thumbnail, hesitating. I like him, and he likes me, and he wants more, but this isn't just about sex. If it were just casual sex, I wouldn't be overthinking this so much. This is so much more, and the way he's acting like I'm already his, and like he's already mine.

And maybe a part of my heart wants him to be mine. To pick only me. To see only me. Do I want to be claimed? Protected?

My small, battered heart says 'yes'.

I've never belonged to anyone. I've never been publicly seen with anyone; I've never had a boyfriend, or even had more than a one-night stand. And God, I ache for it. To belong somewhere, to someone, even if it's only for a short amount of time. I've been a nomad for ten years, and I'm tired.

But can I let him in? Be vulnerable, and risk falling for him? What happens when I have to leave? Will it break my heart? Break his? It's not just mine that I have to be careful with, but his, too.

And he already seems half gone for me. He told me as much next to his cabin.

I whimper, torn apart by fear and longing and desire and exhaustion.

Before I can decide on a reply, Leana takes the phone from my hands and types a reply for me. And I let her because it's easier when it's out of my hands.

"There," she says triumphantly before lowering her voice with sympathy. "You're your own worst enemy, Nik. You're not living, you're existing. Let go every once in a while and have fun. "

I know she's right, but what's the alternative?

"In fact! The boys are throwing a small party at the shop tonight and you're going."

"What?" I blanch again.

Leana doesn't take 'no' for an answer, and an hour later we're in the shop.

Music with a deep base is playing over the speakers, the place smells like pot and cigarettes, and there are bottles and cans of beer everywhere.

Beckett's posted up in the corner because there are a handful of other women here, and his eyes widen as they see us approach through the back door.

Axel and Maddox's eyes follow suit. Axel's grin turns downright dirty, and Maddox winces. He still doesn't like me.

I'll only stay for an hour. I'll appease Leana that I am living and not just surviving, but I don't have to chat with anyone. Or at least, that's my plan until Leana breaks into the mini fridge and pulls out a bottle of chilled champagne.

She pops it open and pours us two. I wave her off. "I don't drink."

"You drink tonight. You're among friends. I promise nothing will happen to you." Her tone is sympathetic, and I know her peer pressure is coming from a place of worry and love for me.

I bite my lip as I debate with myself.

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.