The words coming out of King’s mouth blur into nonsense as my eyes lock on Cassandra walking out the front door of Nero’s house.
She’s…
I swallow.
God, she is fucking perfect.
And she looks like mine.
She skips down the steps and comes to a stop next to me in the driveway.
“Well?” She holds her arms out and turns in a circle. “What do you think?”
“I think I want to find a way to fuck you while you wear that.”
Cassandra snorts, then slaps a hand over her mouth as her gaze darts over to the three Alliance men.
I trace my finger across the neckline of her shirt.
“You ready to go, Hans—I mean Cassie?” Dom smiles at his joke as he stops beside us.
I know he’s trying to be funny, but I’m not the least bit offended.
Then Cassandra grins at Dom and says, “I’m ready.”
I find myself suddenly wanting to punch the man.
Wisely, he steps back. “The vehicles are being brought around.”
I nod, then turn back to Cassandra, taking her in from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.
I’m the one who bought everything and gave her the backpack with the clothing after breakfast, but even my fantasies didn’t do her justice.
On her feet are black combat boots, laced up her ankles, just like mine. Tucked into them are black tactical pants, just like mine, with extra pockets going down the outside of her hips and thighs, drawing my eyes to her luscious curves. And tucked into her pants is a tight black shirt, just like mine. Only hers is the long-sleeved version. It’s lightweight, so it won’t be too uncomfortable when we land in the Texas heat. And the material hopefully feels like a nice bit of compression against the spot where I implanted her tracking device. The anesthesia would’ve worn off sometime while we were sleeping, and I saw the start of a small bruise earlier. I reach out and gently brush my fingers down the inside of her arm.
I don’t ever want to be the cause of her pain.
I don’t want her to feel any at all.
Cassandra presses her palms to my stomach. “You okay?”
I slide my hand up until I’m gripping the back of her neck. “I’m worried that bringing you with is the wrong choice.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not staying here without you. No offense to any of these people, but I’d be so worried about you that I wouldn’t be able to breathe. Please don’t ask me to stay.”
With my hand on her neck, I pull her to my chest, then wrap my arms around her. “I won’t.”
I can’t.
She might be closer to danger by coming with me, but if something happened to her here while I was down in Dallas, I wouldn’t be able to breathe either.
Karmine was able to confirm that Gabriel Marcoux spent the night at his house in Texas, and she picked up chatter about a large sale taking place tonight in the city.
It could be real. Could be nothing. Could be a setup.
But we’re going.
We’re bringing men.
And I have a shipment of weapons meeting us at the airfield when we land.
