Skirt (Ruthless Kings MC #5) - K.L. Savage Page 0,22
is about to come down from above the door and chop my head off or something for being an outsider. “I ain’t going to bite, Dawson.”
“Dawn,” I dare to correct him. These bikers, while they scare the hell out of me, they did save me, which means I owe them more than friendship. I owe them my life.
“Dawn,” he says instead. “Skirt, go inform Doc—”
“No!” I panic and reach for Skirt’s hand, and I grab onto it like the lifeline it is. He’s the first man I saw when I woke up, he’s the man I punched in the face because I was scared and he didn’t hit me back; he’s the man who carried me because my body was weak. “No, please.” I swallow the spit gathering in my mouth to coat my dry throat. “Can he stay? He’s … he’s the only one I’m not afraid of,” I admit, and Skirt’s hand tightens around mine. I know my bravado was big earlier, but I’m on high alert being here.
Reaper has crow’s feet around his eyes, from either smiling or squinting. I’m going to go with squinting. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to smile. Either way, the crow’s feet soften when I tell him the truth, and he nods. “Of course. Skirt, come in,” Reaper says.
I tug on Skirt’s arm, and he stumbles over the threshold, giving Reaper a chance to shut the door. I don’t want to tell him that his office smells like cum either. He probably knows, and he’s probably proud of it. I’d bet he knows Skirt and I listened in on him getting his cock sucked. I can’t believe I told Skirt it was hot listening to a guy getting off. I’ve never been so bold before. Skirt makes me nervous, so I said what I thought he’d want to hear, but then he blushed like a damn virgin. I wonder if I overstepped.
Then again, a man like Skirt has to be used to getting his cock blown with all the women around here dressed in nothing but their skin.
“Take a seat,” Reaper says, but it sounds more like an order.
And if there is one thing I know how to do, it’s to do what I’m told. I sit right away, and Skirt stands behind me. I crane my head to the side and look up at him. He has a thick red beard that looks well-groomed and his red lashes fan over the tops of his cheeks as he stares down at me. “Sit. You heard the man,” I say.
“I’m going to have to stand.” Skirt brings his fist up to his mouth and coughs.
Reaper chuckles and laces his fingers behind his head. “And why is that?” He leans back in the chair and plops his boots on the desk to get comfortable, then his eyes pinch as he stares at the black leather. He unhooks his hands from behind his head, licks his thumb, and polishes a spot on the tip of his boot.
“Uh, no reason. I just feel like standing.” Skirt’s cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink, and for a badass biker, he sure does get bashful. I think it’s cute. He has this charm that I can’t put my finger on and these good looks that remind my soul what it’s like to lust after someone again. I really like the kilt too.
Two words: easy access.
“Skirt here had to avoid hitting you when you passed out in the road, and he swerved off the road. His bike crashed into a rock and he flew over the handlebars and landed on a cactus.” Reaper starts laughing halfway through his explanation, and I can understand why it’s funny. I want to laugh, but he got hurt because of me, and that isn’t humorous at all.
“Skirt, I’m so sorry. I never wanted that to happen.”
“It’s okay, Lips. The needles didn’t hurt that bad coming out.”
“Whatever. You wanted numbing cream.” Reaper throws Skirt under the bus.
“Ye have needles close to yer ball sack and ye let me know how ye want to handle it.” Skirt crosses his arms over his chest, pouting. “And my arse is sore, okay? It’s just a little tender. A hundred cactus spikes will do that to someone.”
“I’m so sorry.” I reach around and lay my hand on his ass cheek and gasp when I realize what I just did. I thought I was reaching for his arm to comfort him, but I went in right