“Just don’t slam my sister up against my front door again.” Tom glares at me in clear warning. “I may only be the legal counsel, but I still know some bad dudes. You’ll be dead by morning.”
“Do those bad dudes happen to work for me?” I smirk at him.
It’s an unwelcome reminder for Tom whose smile quickly drops. He refocuses on Ember with a look that would kill any person weaker than our formidable girl.
“Speaking of…the guys? Which guys? What relationships? What the fuck?”
Ah, that one didn’t skip straight over his head, then. I sink backwards into the sofa to nurse my beer while Ember reddens and splutters away. This should be fun to watch.
CHAPTER 24
EMBER
NOTHING MATTERS – THE LAST DINNER PARTY
Walking backto Warner’s SUV, I feel lighter than I have in a long time. It doesn’t make sense. Not with the monumental task that lies ahead or Tom’s warning about the legality of working with Gunnar Slaughter ringing in our ears.
But fuck it.
My hand is wrapped up in Warner’s dry palm, and I don’t feel any fear. He proudly stood in front of Tom to bare all. We both did. Despite the awkwardness, I know my brother will come around. Tom would never cut Warner out of his life, and I think he finally realises that.
“We’re due at HQ to go over travel arrangements with the directors.” Warner clicks the key fob to unlock his car. “Hudson’s been questioning Gunnar all day to get the full picture of what we’re walking into.”
“And?” I prompt.
“It doesn’t sound good, Em. Nolan Madden has a decent crew behind him now. He’s ready for a fight. If Gael’s already there… we could be up against significant firepower.”
“Madden’s been off the grid since you cleaned house when Blaine was arrested. How has he amassed any amount of followers since then?”
“Power and influence.” Warner opens my door for me. “His two languages.”
“Well, it’s high time we learned to speak them too.”
Waiting for him to climb in after me, I check our group chat for messages. The others are all together, making preparations with the Intelligence department and Falcon Team. Despite our differences, Archer, Oscar and Kyle have all agreed to join the op.
Warner stares ahead at the road as we wind out of Marylebone and head across the city towards Sabre HQ. With each passing mile, the countdown to our departure grows ever closer. Not even the promise of the private jet can make the four hour flight sound any more appealing.
When I squirm in my seat for the fifth time, Warner reaches a hand over the console to clasp my thigh. “Breathe.”
“How can you be so calm?”
“We need to keep our heads clear if we’re going to pull this off.”
Fingers curling, he attempts to soothe me with gentle strokes. It has the opposite effect. Everywhere he touches starts to tingle, skin prickling beneath thick denim, making my heart race.
I let my eyes close while shifting into his hand, encouraging him to move higher up my inner thigh. Between the cool leather seat cupping my body and his fingers digging deeper into my leg, nervous anticipation melts into a pressing need for any form of relief.
He shifts behind the wheel, knuckles clenched tight. That doesn’t stop his nails from scraping over the seam of my jeans, right above where my core is waking up. Each slow tease makes heat swirl inside me, filling my extremities with trickling warmth.
“You okay, love?”
“Yes,” I reply breathily. “Can you pull over?”
“We’re in the middle of the city, Em.”
“Then hurry up and drive faster.”
Warner chuckles under his breath, now rubbing circles against my denim-covered crotch. The friction is electrifying. I can feel the pressure on my clit, but it’s held back by layers of fabric that I’m longing for him to tear off.
