She turned her head, refusing to look at him.
Noah couldn’t believe this; what the hell was going on with her?
“Do you have anything else you want to say?” Her tone was calm, but the colour on her cheeks was high. She was upset, or anxious, or something, she just didn’t know how to let it out.
He leaned in close. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I can tell you what I tell all the cleanskins—if you think getting a tattoo is gonna make you a different person, you’re wrong. Taking one off is the exact same thing.”
Nicole kept her eyes on the screen. “Maybe that’s what you tell the cleanskins, but you know as well as I do that sometimes tattoos are more than just tattoos.”
“So what does that mean? You want to get rid of your family history? Where you came from?”
She said nothing.
He touched her shoulder, found her skin was ice cold. “Your sisters know what you’re planning, Nikki?”
“No.” Her voice was wavering. “But it’s not up to them. I don’t like it anymore. I don’t want to be that girl anymore.”
“What girl?”
She blinked, shedding two fat tears. Her eyes were so blue today, he was surprised the water was clear. He’d expected it to be sapphire.
“Nikki, talk to me.”
She shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand. You’re exactly like them. Sam and Tabby and Dad and everyone else that comes in here.”
He couldn’t help smiling a little at that. “I thought you’d know better than anyone that I’m not like everyone else that comes in here.”
Her ruby mouth curved upward. “Maybe notexactlylike everyone else.”
“Not even close. But seriously, are you okay? You’re a ball of nerves right now, baby.”
The endearment slipped out without his conscious choice, but it didn’t feel wrong. Neither did the fact she turned and wrapped her arms around him. It felt like pulling on a hoodie on a cold morning, like the first cigarette of the day. He rubbed his hand along her back, trying to warm her.
“Noah?”
“Yeah,” he said, sure she was ready to talk. But when she pulled away, she was looking at him differently, her pupils wide, her lips parted like a gift.
“I want you to touch me. Right now.”
If it was anywhere but Edgar’s office, with anyone but Nicole, he’d have fucking gone for it, but it didn’t feel right. “Bad idea.”
“You’re not supposed to care about that.”
She could have meant his attitude in bed, but the twist in her mouth said she meant The Rangers, his history, his reputation as a piece of shit bikie. He thought of Shredder and shook his head. “Don’t put me in that box, Nicole. You don’t like it and neither do I.”
She brushed a hand over his chest, her citrusy perfume tickling his nose. “You must like it a little bit, you dirty talked me about it last night.”
The memories sent a throb running down the length of his cock. “You’re upset.”
“So?” She leaned in, her lips promising oblivion and bright red after-effects. “I want to do it again, rougher this time.”
“No, you don’t.”
Her hand slid around his waist, sending sparks up his back. “I do. I need you, Noah.”
And he was done for. The idea of her needing him was so electric it might have been a stimulant released into his arm. Outside, Sam’s music pounded, Chvrches with tattoo machines thrumming beneath it. His choice felt like no choice at all. He bent his head and kissed her. Her mouth was cool and eager. He tasted her lipstick and it made his dick hard. “Nikki.”
Her hands slid down his stomach, tugging at the button on his jeans. “Yes?”