Chapter 12 #3
A grin split her face. “Wimp? Of all the names I could call you, that wouldn’t be one of them.”
He groaned and rested his hip against the wall. “I’d like to hear what your choices would be.”
She scrunched her lips and squinted. “Well, you can be an ass sometimes.”
He shrugged. That was fitting.
“And . . . funny.”
“Keep going.”
“A smart-ass.”
“You already said ass.”
The elevator dinged.
“You do have a nice one.”
Heat struck his abdomen. Not at the thought of his own ass, but hers.
Sex with Serena so far had been about filling an urgent need.
Not the leisurely roam of her body that he wanted to embark on.
Starting with her luscious cheeks, so nicely packaged in the tight yoga pants.
He dragged his knuckles over her hip and around the landscape he sought.
“I hope that’s not the only part of my anatomy that impressed you today. ”
Her laugh bounced off the walls of the elevator and she pushed away from him. She led him into the hallway and bobbed her eyebrows. “A lady never tells.”
Milo threw his head back and laughed. “Does a lady also scream ‘Harder, Milo’?” He leaned close to her as he spoke but didn’t lower his voice.
A red sandstorm rose from her chest and darkened her cheeks. She pinched her lips together, but the hint of a smile played on them. She stopped at Peyton’s door and rapped her knuckles on the wood. Shuffles sounded from inside.
“I could always try to be more ladylike, but then we probably wouldn’t end up in bed together.”
His smile fell. Desire scorched up his back. “I love the noises you make when I—”
“Hey, come on in,” Peyton said, as she opened the door.
She wore a long-sleeved black shirt. Her thumbs peeked through cutouts in her sleeves.
Her gaze flicked from Serena to Milo and her eyebrows crawled together with interest. She backed away from the door and they entered. Milo shut it behind him.
“Where’s Brock?”
“He’ll be here soon.”
Peyton made a face and led the way to the kitchen table. “Can the dude ever be on time?”
Serena kicked off her shoes and reached for the briefcase Milo carried over his shoulder. “He knows this is important. Let’s get started.”
Serena watched as Peyton sat and set her hands on the table.
A stab of gratitude hit her as she looked at the people—old friends with a fortress of differences and history—who had come together to save one of their own.
It was also a stark reminder of how terrified and alone she’d felt after the men attacked her.
Only days before, she’d had no one to call, no one on her side, no one to fight for her.
She closed her eyes and prayed that it all wouldn’t be for nothing.
Sitting next to Peyton, she pulled the papers from the briefcase.
She forced down the fury of pain that wanted to seize her body and tapped her finger on the plans.
“There’s three rottweilers, two guards, and three staff who reside on the property.
To avoid the cameras and hopefully the dogs, we’ve decided to go in through the balcony. ”
Peyton’s sharp gaze followed Serena’s finger, and she compressed her lips.
“We need people on the ground, so Milo and I will get inside while you and Brock keep a lookout.”
“I’d prefer to be inside,” Peyton said.
Serena couldn’t blame her. No one wanted to be on watch duty—it was always more thrilling to be in the thick of the action. “I know, but we need you on the ground. You’re one of the best shots.”
Peyton worked her lips into a purse and then nodded reluctantly. “Fine. When do we leave?”
Milo flipped his wrist over. “It’s 10:00 p.m. We’ll need to leave within the hour so we can get started at a decent time. Our deadline is 1:00 a.m.”
“I have earbuds. I’m sure you guys already have some, but I’m going to grab my stash of supplies in case something goes wrong.” She headed toward her bedroom.
Serena smiled, remembering Peyton’s tendency to be overprepared. On more than one occasion, her extras had come in handy.
Ding dong
Serena bounded from her chair but Milo snatched her arm.
“I’ll get it,” he said, loudly enough for Peyton to hear from her bedroom. Serena followed him to the door and waited while he checked the peephole before opening it.
Brock entered, and his gaze landed on her first. “Any news?”
She shook her head.
“Well, no news is good news. Let’s get to work.”
“Look who decided to grace us with his presence,” Peyton called from the hallway. “Hi, Brock.”
Brock took one of the kitchen chairs, spun it around, and straddled it. “Hey, Priss. Long time no see.”
A spark sprang to Peyton’s eyes at the nickname and Serena coughed to distract her.
Peyton moved toward the table and clapped Brock on the back. “Glad to have you.” A beat passed. “Dani will be too.” Despite their intention, Peyton’s words lacked conviction.
“Let’s go over the plans one last time,” Peyton said. Milo and Brock groaned.
“We’ve been over it a dozen times at Milo’s,” Brock said.
Peyton shrugged. “Not all of us together.” She winked when Milo rolled his eyes. “C’mon, guys. I ordered food.”