Ty
“Ty, relax.” Ivy poked the tiny black straw between her deep red lips and drew the colorful drink into her mouth. “We’re in a building with at least fifty soldiers. If Ben was going to show himself, this wouldn’t be the place.”
“It’s not just Ben I’m worried about,” I glared at the guy who came up to gawk at Ivy’s outfit, “and though I appreciate you wearing jeans, this scrap of fabric you call a top doesn’t make my life any easier.” I allowed my gaze to roam over her sheer black halter top. It barely covered her breasts, and only a little fabric found its way down her back into her tight-as-sin black jeans. “And with those high heels, you look like you’re heading to a Maxim magazine shoot.”
“Why do men always get protective when we ladies dress sexy? I can handle myself, but I’m ju
