Page 100 of Fire for Effect

“About what?”

“I don’t care that Kristin and VD fucked. I don’t feel anything about it anymore.” I felt his fingers massaging the back of my neck, sending a warm relaxation into the base of my skull. “It doesn’t bother me now. I’m happy exactly where I am.”

I stumbled on liberating the label from the bottle but got back to work. How many would I need to make a string of lights for the little fire pit I had?

“I’m happy coming home to you,” Kai said, leaning into me, and placing a large palm over my hand, stopping me from completing my task.

A pounding knock on the door had us all on high alert. Sierra pulled a pistol from her designer bag. I held the gun from my lower back. Griff pulled his out of an ankle holster.

He went to the door and gave us one look. We gave him a nod, letting him know we were ready.

“Don’t fucking shoot, it’s just me!” Noam’s voice came through the flimsy door. “Brett doesn’t want you to kill his men, so he’s sending me in as a sacrifice.”

We all relaxed, placing our weapons on safe, before Griff opened the door.

Noam was there, looking a little more disheveled than before. “Fucking tiring. That’s what Brett Bradley is. The man is a fucking piece of wor—”

He cut off mid-word when he saw Sierra.

His eyes widened, and languidly glided down her body, as she pulled back her shoulders, placing her elbows on the backrest, thrusting her breasts out, and showing off her figure. She liked his attention.

“Well, hello,” she said, with all the sex appeal of a true femme fatale.

Her painted, red lips pulled back in a smile so fake, it was practically plastic.

“Hello,” Noam said, clearing his throat. “I didn’t know there was a third in this arrangement.”

He played with the salt and pepper stubble on his roughened beard.

“Yes,” she said with a crystal laugh. “We’re Sister Wives.”

Noam blinked, and he looked at me as if I had grown a second head.

“She’s joking,” I said, coming to my feet and grabbing my bag. I wanted to stand up and introduce them, but I knew better than to introduce a man to a spy without knowing what name she should use.

“We’re all going to have a nice sleepover in your safe house, I take it?” Sierra had gone from that rushed, energetic movement to slow, sensual grace. Her body was always angled perfectly, with her waist cinched in, and her face that perfect combination of mystery and amusement. “Will you be my escort?”

Noam cleared his throat and nodded.

“Follow me, young lady.” He extended a hand to Sierra.

I almost snorted, because it was very, very clear that Noam was now trying not to look at her like she was sex on a stick.

Outside was an SUV, black, no markings, with government plates.

“Fancy,” Sierra said, as she slid in, holding Noam’s hand.

“She’s trouble,” Griff said, coming in beside me. “We got thrown into a Serbian Prison on an ill-fated mission, and by the end of it, she had made the guards fall in love with her so much that they were dying to help her escape.”

“If I had her legs, I’d weaponize it too,” I jabbed Griff in the ribs, placing my head on his shoulder.

He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close. “I like yours better.”

He leaned down and kissed me.

“You better,” I said against his lips.

Noam drove the SUV, which made me wonder how the hell he got government plates. Was it his? Was it Brett’s? I had no idea.

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