Something thuds on the floor, probably the gun. Sienna’s arms loop around my neck, holding tightly as she returns the kiss. Our tongues battle for supremacy. But then, she suddenly stops and leans away.
“Put me down.”
I loosen my hold, letting her slowly slide down my body.
“Remember—not a foot inside my room,” she says, then bends to collect the gun off the floor and sashays out of the kitchen.
When Sienna is out of view, I turn toward my men, who are on the other side of the kitchen, watching and looking confused.
“Back to work,” I snap.
They put their guns into their holsters and hurry out, passing Keva where she stands in the doorway with her hands on her hips.
“It’s official,” she declares. “You two were made for each other.”
Sienna
I lay the gun inside the nightstand
