17 Chapter 17: Nikki

The moon allowed me to see each inked finger as it worked the strap below my jaw. It took effort to stare straight down my nose, but something intrigued me in the lines and colors that shaded his knuckles. My sight trailed to his hands and then his wrists, up his forearms to his biceps. The ink didn't stop where his shirt sleeve began. Every intricate nuance of artwork that covered his skin had been done with painstaking precision. Ryker was someone's masterpiece, and damn, I wanted to see the entire canvas.

He lifted the helmet from my head and hung it on the handlebars the way it had been at the club. This wasn't a great part of town, and I wondered how he kept someone from stealing it. He didn't give me the opportunity to ask before he grabbed my hand, wound his fingers through mine, and started walking toward the building in front of us.

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