her plane ticket yesterday. If he’s tracking her like we know he is, then he knows she’s already back here,” Flynn continues.
“Your plan falls apart because she didn’t go home or use her name for a hotel room last night. He doesn’t know she’s here. Don’t you think he’ll be suspicious if two nights later she finally pops up on a manifest somewhere?” I sigh, rubbing my hands over my face, willing my eyes to stop feeling like sandpaper. “He’s too smart for that.”
“He’s desperate,” Finn says. “He won’t be able to resist checking up on any leads.”
“And what keeps him from sending some gun-toting thug like the fucking Russians did with Deacon and Anna a couple of months ago, huh? It’s too fucking dangerous.”
“For who?” Jude snaps. “She’ll be here with you. Not to point out the obvious, but this is what we fucking do, Wren. It’s literally just another day.”
“It’s not just another day. She’s not just another client.”
I pace the length of the kitchen, talking myself out of destroying my personal space. Plus, I don’t want Whitney to wake up in the middle of all of this.
“She is,” Flynn snaps. “She is another client, and I realize you’re close to this and right in the fucking middle of it, but so was Anna. Who was also another fucking client, and you know that we’d give our lives for any fucking one of them. We make that commitment when we sign that contract. That’s why we make sure they’re fucking worth it before we start. We would’ve died for Anna in South America or the Maldives, just like we’d die for Whitney in some shitty hotel on the other side of town if that’s the way it ends up.”
“I want to be there,” I concede, unable to look Flynn in the eyes as he seethes beside me.
“Absolutely not.”
“No way, dude.”
“Fuck no.”
They all chorus their own responses, but they boil down to a resounding no.
“I’m a part of this,” I argue.
“You’ve done your part,” Ignacio says, his fingers tapping on the closed cover of my laptop.
“Let us do ours,” Flynn adds.
“I can’t. I need to be—”
“Wren?”
We all spin around, and suddenly my mind is no longer on arguing to play a part in taking down Jones at a seedy hotel room. All I can focus on is Whitney standing at the end of the hall, hair in tangles around her shoulders. She has an adorable crease on her face and an embarrassed smile on her face. I watch her throat swallow, figuring out that she called my name before she discovered all the guys standing around me.
“Nice pussy,” Ignacio says.
Flynn groans, and Jude chuckles.
My eyes dart to the apex of her thighs, but she’s wearing sleep shorts. They’re not indecent, but the tank top barely holding her tits is another story.
Simon is a happy boy this morning, purring and circling around her legs like he’s finally forgiven her for torturing him for several days.
“I love ginger pussy,” Finn interjects.
Everyone cackles, and even Flynn cracks a smile. I know they’re testing me. They probably took bets and planned this shit out to see who could make me lose my shit first.
“Clothes, Whitney. You’ll wait for me in your room.”
Her eyes widen.
“Oh shit,” Jude mutters. “Hide the knives. Wren’s about to get cut.”
But he’s mistaken because the fire burning in her eyes isn’t anger.
“Yes, Sir,” she whispers before she turns around to leave.
The guys all look at me while I watch her plump ass sway down the hallway.
I bite the inside of my cheek to hide my laugh when I turn around to face them again. Jaws are hanging open. Finn is rubbing his eyes like he didn’t just experience what happened.
“Holy shit.”
“Did that just happen?”
“What the actual fuck, man?”
“You said you had no game,” Brooks mutters, his brows creased.
“Yes, sir?” Flynn murmurs, his head shaking a little like he’s utterly confused.
“She’s kinky?” Gaige whispers, more awe than question in his voice. “You lucky fuck.”
“You’re kinky?” Flynn questions, still not coming to terms with what just happened. “I thought computer guys blew their loads the second they saw real tits in person.”
I would step around the counter to punch the guy in the dick, but my cock’s still hard from the little show we all just witnessed.
We haven’t discussed many things, the Yes, Sir response being one of them. It’s not really my thing, or at least I didn’t think it was until those breathy words came out of her mouth.