Page 22 of Sire

“I’m going to work, and you need a phone.”

Her face falls. “Okay, um. I can save up for one as quickly as I can and?—”

“Fuck,” I mutter, turning around again. “Hang on.”

Stupidity is an affliction, and I have the virus around her. Usually, I’m ten steps ahead in any game, but around Wren’s naked body in a bath towel, I want to drop to my knees and rip that towel open, losing the rest of my mind and mouth in her pussy.

Fishing through my nightstand’s drawer, I grab a white box. There’s enough charge on this new phone for me to enter my number, Jace’s, and who else? Axel? No, he gives off dickish vibes when really, he’s a giant kitten.

So, who?

Nash! He’s a dad. Alena, his daughter, is twenty-something. If Wren’s in trouble, Nash will know what to do because I feel like a stallion and Wren’s the filly in heat, brought into my barn stall to breed. Only my body works around her, not my brain.

“Here.” I hand her the device.

“An iPhone?” Her eyes widen like it’s Christmas. “And it’snew?”

“I put my number and Jace’s in there. Also, Nash. He’s one of us. Call us if you need anything while I’m gone.”

She considers the gleaming gift before her narrowing stare meets mine. “A new iPhone? And you just happen to have one in your bedroom?”

“Yeah.”

“How many do you keep?”

“Too many for you to ask about.”

“Do you have guns?”

“Do you like living?”

While I was loading contacts in her new phone, she put on my dress shirt. I know some pills make a man’s dick hard for hours, but I’m hoping there’s one that makes you flaccid for days because Wren’s tawny skin in my white shirt is the goddamn sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. And I belong to a fetish factory in Atlanta. I’ve seen everything.

“So, you have burner phones, guns, and probably bags of cash lying around.” She crosses her arms. “Do you have an extra AR I can use?”

“First, don’t burn that phone. Apple has enough of my money. Second, I’ll leave you a hundred dollars a day. Let me know if you need more. And third, who taught you how to shoot an AR?”

Her voice lilts. “YouTube?”

“Wren.”

“What? They even have videos teaching you how to sneeze.”

I raise a brow.

She raises hers.

“Do you know how to use a Glock?”

Her eyes light up. “Yes.”

“Can you do it without turning my sheetrock into Swiss cheese?”

“Run a zig-zag pattern and I’ll show you.”

Goddamn, she’s hot when she’s a smartass.

“Alright. I’ll leave you a phone, a gun, and some cash. Try not to start a drug empire while I’m gone.”