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“Do as she tells you or you’ll deal with us.” Bishop vibrates with deadly smooth malice.
Another pussy flutter shakes the dust downstairs.
Feral Bishop. Not even a priest could resist.
Elyse goes glaze-eyed.
Before she can think about adding some quality to her himbo harem, or I can body slam her for the thought, Bridget lifts a hand. “Leave the restraints. We’ll procure an upgraded set.”
“Yes, Commander.” Elyse hurls the cuffs with a snitty glare.
I catch, ignore a phantom jolt, then pass the hot potatoes to Dutch. “Destroy these.”
“Anything for you,” he says dreamily.
I’m even more convinced I’m sleeping when metal squeals. The cuffs that made me miserable for years crumble like dry cheese in Dutch’s palms.
“We’re done here,” I say a little too roughly. “Unless you have something else to add?”
Bridget glares at the audacity of my existence. I brace as her lips part.
This’ll be good.
“I have something to say first.” Jin drapes an arm across my shoulders.
I’m too focused on holding back my pheromones to flinch, but some rogue instinct tilts my head, and the traitor who’s temporarily driving my body presses my cheek to his bare chest.
Warm static numbs my face. I fight the insane urge to mark my territory by licking the smooth path between his pecs.
Not yours, Sol.
Never yours.
“I don’t know why you came after her, and I don’t fucking care to find out.” Jin’s touch shields me from the pressure of his voice, but the SAS picked the wrong side. His dark, heavy dominance sinks their shoes into the dirt. “She’s ours. You understand what that means?”
“We’ll fight,” Reese says.
“We’ll win,” Bishop adds.
Dutch tosses the manacles he just dismantled, scattering scrap metal around their toes. “So fuck off and leave us the hell alone.”
My chest does a back-and-forth squeeze like a drunk accordion. Supported, surrounded, buzzing and overwhelmed, I can’t decide if I’m a liar, a cheat, or the luckiest bitch in the world.
“We’re leaving.” And if Bridget doesn’t get out of my way, I’ll launch the pheromone nukes.
No more playing good girl.
“Let’s go home.” Jin steers me to walk away, but not even his protective warmth can shield the laser-beam glares following our retreat.
My spine jangles.
That hate isn’t going anywhere.
Bridget is only letting us walk so she can investigate the guys’ identities before she makes her move.
We reach the car alive and un-shot.
A temporary escape.
