Page 103 of Nest of Thieves
“I’ve been watching a show.” A partial lie.
“Anything good?”
“It’s okay.” A full lie. Watching Jo is never boring, but she doesn’t need to know I spend every spare moment spying on her.
She pats the couch.
I sit and watch as she navigates to the game she’s been trying to learn. Vette hasn’t spanked her again, but occasionally, I catch her trying to figure it out.
“Level two, huh?”
She side-eyes me. “I’ll remind you, not so many days ago I died in a matter of seconds.”
“I’m not judging.” I cross my arms over my bare chest, catching the way her eyes dip down. Her lips part slightly, as if suddenly realizing I’m half-naked. She’s no better in her short shorts under the hoodie. Those thighs.
I clear my throat. “You’re about to be shot.”
“Fuck,” she mutters, smashing some buttons and turning toward the game.
A strange smile tugs at my lips as I sit beside her, content to watch her try again and again to beat the same level. She’s almost desperate to prove her worth, and that resonates with something inside of me. Deep down, I’m waiting for someone to say that I’m enough for them.
After a while of watching her, I grab my own controller and start up my TV and system, playing a mindless racing game until Jo’s jaw cracks with a yawn.
“Sleepy?”
“Yeah.” She frowns at the screen.
“You got to level three.”
“Only after dying fifty times.”
“Better than nothing, though, right?”
She sighs and shuts her stuff off. “I want to be the best.”
“Vette’s been playing that game for years.” I twist my joystick to avoid colliding with another car on the screen. “He’s an expert. You’re still a baby gamer.”
“I’m not a baby,” she grumbles.
I smirk as I cross the finish line. “Ready for bed?”
“Will you sleep with me?” she asks, eyes flicking away from my face.
Is she scared too or am I projecting?
“Of course.” I set my stuff aside and stand, extending a hand to help her up. Her fingers are soft, but there are a few calluses on her palm. A firm reminder that Jo is, in fact, not an innocent woman. She’s a criminal at heart. I lead her toward her door since I left my computer on; can’t have her discovering what I was watching when she woke.
She climbs into bed, and I lie down beside her, tucking her against my body. A relieved sigh fills the room, and she wraps her arm around me.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep alone again.”
I run my hand up her arm. “You won’t be alone when you’re with us.” And I mean it.
Her breathing slows and I relax my body, ignoring the hard-on in my pants. She’s been missing a lot of sleep, and I don’t want to take any more from her.
“I’m a little scared.” Her voice is so low, I almost miss the words.
“Of?”
