“Thank God,” muttered Bryce.
I nodded my agreement before continuing. “So to me that means they weren’t trying to burn the place down.”
“Just the construction materials,” said Camden. “They were trying to stop us.”
“Or slow us down,” Bryce agreed.
I shrugged noncommittally. “Or maybe they were just trying to send us a message.”
Karissa seemed to consider all three possibilities before answering. “So what’s the message?”
“Fuck if I know.”
“Maybe the message itself is ‘fuck you?’” Bryce theorized cheerily. He continued smiling until Camden shot him a dirty look.
“So… got any enemies?” Karissa coughed.
She asked the question professionally, but with the slightest hint of something more. Almost exactly like Peter Falk, on the old television series Columbo.
“Not that we know of,” I replied.
“Not that you know of?” she repeated. “That sounds pretty specific.”
“Well if I didn’t know about them,” I snapped, “how I could I even tell you?”
She backed off, and I felt suddenly guilty. She was only trying to help.
“Sorry,” I apologized. “It’s just… well…”
“You’re on edge,” she finished for me. “Totally understandable.”
“What about cameras?” Bryce suddenly blurted. “Did we have any cameras on the worksite?
“No,” Karissa said sadly. “They weren’t in the budget.”
“Well they are now,” Camden sneered.
We stood in silence for a few moments, surveying the damage. The burned pallet would be unusable, but that was the least of our problems.
“Hey,” I asked abruptly, turning on Karissa. “Where the hell did you get that fire extinguisher?”
Her shoulders raised in a shrug. “The trunk of my car.”
Camden chuckled. Bryce swore something under his breath.
“You carry a fire extinguisher like that in the back of your car?”
Now she laughed, and the little black smudge on her chin laughed with her.
“You guys are forgetting something.”
Reaching down, she tore a long strip of fabric off the bottom of her ruined dress. By the time she was finished, it looked almost like a miniskirt after all.
“I used to be a police officer. Remember?”
Thirty-Two
KARISSA
An hour later we were sprawled out in the living room, physically exhausted. We’d run a full perimeter of the property — twice. Inspected every other pallet and pile of construction material littered around the building site, front and back.
“I’ll get on the camera thing in the morning,” I said, lounging across the couch in my filthy torn dress. “Oscar knows a guy.”
We were all filthy, really. Roderick was covered in dirt and sweat, ditto for Bryce. Camden’s soot-covered chest still glistened with it. All three guys’ shirts were open to mid-chest.
It really was kinda hot, though.
“Who would’ve lit our supplies on fire,” Bryce asked for the third time. “And not the place itself?”
The bottle of wine we were passing around dangled from the end of my hand. By now it was nearly empty.
“Someone who wanted to hurt you but not cripple you,” I replied.
It was a good thing. It was a bad thing. Right now though, my brain was too scrambled to try and make sense of it.
“We’ll figure it out tomorrow,” said Camden. “The three of us will sit down and—”
“Ahem.”
“Sorry,” he smiled back at me. “The four of us will sit down and put our heads together.”
He reached for the wine, and my eyes fixed on the thick, corded muscles of his extended arm. The soot had settled in the hollows between the striations. They made his biceps stick out magnificently. His triceps and shoulders, too. Eventually I passed it to him.
“Other than that it was a pretty good night,” Bryce said trying to be cheerful. “Right?”
“Well yeah,” Camden snickered. “It sure was.”
“I’m not likely to forget the night you asked me to be your girlfriend,” I jumped in with a chuckle. “If you look at it that way, I guess that makes this our anniversary.”
Roderick nodded. “Guess so.”
“So… are we celebrating?” I asked coyly.
Camden finished off the last of the wine, then raised the bottle high. “I thought this was celebrating.”
“You know what I mean.”
The guys exchanged glances. Sitting in one of the antique chairs they’d dragged in from the parlor, Bryce sat up a little.
“Are you saying—”
“I’m asking if the three of you plan to finish what you started,” I purred, bending one of my knees. The jagged hem of my ‘dress’ rode up so high on my thighs it was practically a belt again.
All three of them were speechless. And that’s because they were staring at my thighs.
“I mean, right now I’m still just a fuckbuddy,” I shrugged. “A friend with benefits.”
I sat up and swung my long legs to the floor. From their own couches the guys remained frozen, but their eyes followed my every move. I felt like a hypnotist, working a stage.
“I’m not really your girlfriend until you make me your girlfriend,” I said, layering the words with sugary sweetness. Then I stood up and rolled the scant fabric of my tiny thong down my legs. I didn’t stop until it was around my ankles.
“So… make me your girlfriend.”
Bryce and Camden shot upright almost instantly. There was lust in their eyes.
“You know we’re dirty, right?” asked Roderick. He looked down at his own ruined clothes. “Really dirty.”
“So?” I posed, hooking a finger into the corner of my mouth. I stepped out of my panties and kicked them away. “What’s wrong with dirty?”
They still hadn’t moved, so I made the move for them. Dropping to my knees, I turned my backside on Roderick and Bryce. Then I crawled over to Camden, slowly and sensually, before nudging my way between his legs.
“You sit back and relax.”
I splayed one palm over his hot, soot-smudged chest and pushed him backward. As he settled into the couch again I unzipped him and took his pants down.
“Maybe I’ll just make you my boyfriends,” I teased, nuzzling the thick knot straining against his boxer-briefs. “One by one…”
I opened my mouth and bit down gently on the warm, fabric-covered outline of his cock. Camden’s breath caught in his throat.
“… by one.”
Thirty-Three
KARISSA
A quick yank of Camden’s boxers
