“The boss is gonna want blood. How much ye want to bet on it?”
He leaned in and brushed a kiss to my jaw, far enough back that the touch was more intimate than a simple peck on the cheek. “Nothing because you’re right. I just don’t think he’ll want us to do stupid shit.”
My mouth went dry and my cock shocked the hell out of me by nosing awake at top speed while he used the towel to wipe down his chest. He tilted his head back and licked his lips.
“What’s going through your brain? You need to get dressed,” he said.
“Do we have time for—”
“No.” He snorted.
“Uh, fecking hell. Fine.”
Aspen’s laughter gave me goose bumps. I sorted through the clothing hanging in front of me—the house staff had been busy to get my things out of the bags so fast—and stopped on something I wouldn’t normally wear. “It don’t feel right to kill a man without a suit on,” I grumbled, tugging out a short-sleeved tropical shirt that had me grinning. I pulled it on. Palm fronds and parrots covered the black background. I did up the buttons quickly, then grabbed black suit trousers. Aspen went to the dresser and tossed me a pair of boxers. I rushed to slide them on before stepping into the trousers.
“You’re going to wear that shirt?” Aspen asked. He snagged a tan suit and white shirt out of the closet.
“Aye, why not?” I shrugged. “Covers me. Boss ain’t around to see it. I won’t be upset if it gets ruined is the main thing.”
He rested his hand on the back of my neck and squeezed, and I leaned in his direction for a kiss, but he let me go to rush through getting dressed.
“You’re not pissed off we’re here anymore?” He finished buttoning his shirt.
I held very still as he came over and kissed my forehead. His lips tickled across my skin and made me feel strange inside in a good way, like when I was fucking Vail at the club or had Fallon pinned to a wall—it just set everything inside me on fire.
“Nah, this is gonna be epic,” I said, then planted my mouth over his. He nipped at my lip, and I growled. Feck, did he want to fuck me since I’d already been in his arse? The thought had me running a hand down his chest.
“I tried to text ya!” Jamie barreled through the door we hadn’t closed the whole way and sprinted into our room, eyes shiny and a bit too wide. “Corbin is in contact with a local bloke. We know where the shooters are. They moored their boat at a dock, and we can be there in twenty if we hurry. They’re not rushing away because there’s a spring break party going on at a small bar there, and they stopped for drinks. The morons.”
“Our phones are fecked,” I said. “Water, remember? We were shot at?”
Jamie pointed at me and nodded as he ran out again. “Be ready to go in five minutes!” he called over his shoulder.
Aspen and I hustled. We both ended up in a pair of boots that didn’t really go with our clothes because our other shoes were wet.
“We need guns,” Aspen said on the way out of the room.
“I wish I’d been able to bring me own. It don’t feel right killing people with borrowed weapons.” I shook my head in disgust. “Never know if they’ve been maintained right or if they pull when ye fire them.”
“You’re a good shot,” he said, in that same soothing tone he sometimes used with Vail.
“I want me own gun to blow someone’s head off.” I grinned at him when he turned to glance at me with his eyebrows raised.
“You don’t know that you’ll get the chance to kill anyone. The longer we take, the less likely it is.”
“Don’t nag. I’m coming,” I said as we hustled downstairs together. I wasn’t sure what he thought he was doing, but he smacked my arse, then left me in the dust on the staircase.
“Och! What the hell!” I chuckled and chased after him.
In the foyer, Jamie had opened a heavy-duty gray trunk of weapons and was going through them while humming, reminding me a bit of Rowen in the kitchen getting ready to cook one of his favorite meals. He’d changed into jeans and a simple black T-shirt, and for once, he had his hair tucked up under a black cap. I shivered a little as he held up a hand grenade and tossed it, and when he noticed me looking at him, he winked. Jamie was a laid-back bloke and sometimes I forgot he’d earned the position he was in.
“Toys, fellas. Take your pick. Be my guest.”
“Ya don’t need that,” Corbin said, snatching the grenade out of Jamie’s hand before he could put it in his pocket. He set it back in the trunk.
“Ya don’t know that,” Jamie said, and he snuck the explosive back out after Corbin removed two handguns. He stuck the grenade in his pocket and the shell made a ridiculous bulge.
“Let’s get these wee feckers,” I said, snagging out a Desert Eagle. “This is a magnificent weapon.” The gold hand cannon gleamed in the overhead light, and I held it out with a pleased hum. “I don’t think I have a holster for it, though. Is there one in there?”
