Page 58 of Abandoned Oaths

Fuck. I shouldn’t be noticing that about him. Or any of them.

I was getting too comfortable being around them all the time. I couldn’t forget this was a mission. They were my teammates. Colleagues. Not playthings for me to stare at, or wonder how their hands would feel running over my hips and thighs.

Ahhhh.

No more.

I needed to get laid.

That was the problem.

Not that I got a ton of action. I was too busy to worry about it, and when the desire struck, I took care of it myself with a little help from my favorite toys.

Here? I had no privacy to do that.

Maybe . . . if I was really quiet . . . in the shower.

No.

We were all shifters with heightened senses. I couldn’t risk that. Just the thought of them hearing made my face burn.

“Emilia?” Javier stared.

“Yeah?”

“I asked if that was okay.”

Apparently, I missed part of the conversation. “Sorry, what?”

“The yacht is here, so you need to change and head down.”

Right. Work. I had a job to do. “Yeah, sorry.”

I passed Cruz, praying he couldn’t smell my arousal, and hurried to grab a bikini and coverup before changing in my bathroom.

Simmer down, girl.

The last thing I wanted was for them to see me as anything less than a kick-ass woman. Hormones could fuck right off.

After changing, I took Javier’s advice and pulled my hair back into two Dutch braids before heading out to the living room.

Derek was waiting in a black polo tucked into a pair of black slacks.

“Still on duty?” I asked as I tied the belt of my crocheted wrap at my waist.

He nodded once, not looking pleased about it.

“At least you get a yacht uniform.” I tried to get him to smile, but he was too busy glaring at the hardwood.

“Ready?” Cruz waited by the door, the only one of us somewhat excited.

“Sure.” I waved to Marco and Javier before heading to the elevator.

The yacht was not what I expected, not that I’d had much time to think about it. It was at least double the length and had two or three levels more than the boats I’d seen putting around the marina.

“It’s huge.” I stared up at the top level, at least twenty feet above the dock.

“You’re rich,” Derek shot back.

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