Page 42 of Sawyer

“Yes.” Sawyer looks back at the three of us, finding that we’ve blocked the rest of the room from seeing her. A little wrinkle in her brow forms before she shakes her head and turns back to the receptionist. “They are my bodyguards.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” Denise makes the badges, not flinching at Sawyer’s statement. “Identification please.”

One by one, we pull out our IDs and hand them over.

“Really, that’s it? Just like that?” Sawyer asks, the bewilderment flashing across her face smoothing out every line.

“Sawyer.” Denise pauses. “You are the only reporter who constantly gets death threats. Did you think I wouldn’t believe you need bodyguards?” the older woman scoffs at a surprised Sawyer.

Once more, Rumor glances at me with a raised brow and his arms crossed. He looks deadly and ready to rip into anyone who comes close to us.

Denise spreads three visitor badges on the counter before us, along with our IDs. “I wouldn’t mind a little extra protection myself.” The woman shoots her shot and winks at me. “Have lunch plans?”

“Thanks, ma’am, but we’re spoken for.” I give her a wink back and focus my gaze on Sawyer, letting Denise know just whom I’m talking about.

Her jaw drops to the floor, and Sawyer’s cheeks turn a bright shade of red.

“Thanks, Denise.” She snatches the badges and tosses them at us as she leads us to the elevators. “Incorrigible.”

“Sawyer.” Sin saunters to an open elevator and spins around to lean against the wall. He waits until we are all inside and the doors close before finishing his thought. “Do you have any time off?”

This is it. This is what is going to set her off. But Sawyer surprises us by sighing and turning to face Sin. She steps close to him but remains a breath away. “Why?” One word, but it’s full of so much.

Desire. Calculation. Humor.

“Just wondering if your boss will allow you to suck my dick for an extended time.”

I can’t decide if this is the best or worst assignment ever.

“Sin,” Rumor scolds, about to knock into him, but I hold him back. I have a feeling our little fire starter is about to destroy Sin.

Sawyer presses her body into his and ever so gently presses her lips against his. Sin’s eyes flutter shut, and his hands grip her hips. Their arousal scents the air—limes and vetiver. It’s an odd combination, but it creeps into my flesh and yanks my scent out, adding mint to the mix.

Fluttering her eyes as though she’s holding in her own desire, she bites his lip and pierces the skin. Iron tinges the air before Sawyer laps at the blood. “You can’t handle my mouth sucking your cock.” She spins around just in time for the elevator doors to open.

“Sawyer!” A beta stands at the opening. The newsroom bustles behind him, and the scent of ink flows into the elevator to drown out our desire. “Who is this?” he asks in a strained voice.

Sawyer steps out, and we follow.

Towering over the small beta, I eye him. The fragrance of apples leaks into the air with a sour note. It hits the back of my tongue, making me want to gag, and it takes control not to let him see that.

Outwardly, he looks innocent, innocuous, and unassuming. Wearing khaki pants, a blue striped shirt, and thick, red-rimmed glasses, he looks like he belongs in a lab and not here in a newsroom.

“Freddy,” Sawyer greets him warmly, though she doesn’t get closer to him than three feet, choosing instead to remain back here with us.

“Did you get my messages?” he asks while still eyeing us.

“I did.” Sawyer glances at Sin over her shoulder. He steps close to her, nearly plastering himself to her back. He’s also wearing her lipstick with pride, something this beta doesn’t miss. “This is Rumor. I believe you know him.” Rumor doesn’t give Freddy a hand to shake, instead standing with his arms crossed and looking imposing. “Behind me is Sin, but I believe you know him as Councilman Heir Apparent Pearson.” Sin doesn’t move either. “And this is Bryn.”

I offer my hand to the nervous beta. My palm engulfs his as I give him my formal name. “Bryn Calloway, special forces. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Freddy Owens.” His hand is clammy in mine, sticky and sweaty. His fear sours the space between us, and he keeps glancing at Sawyer. “Why are you here?”

“I just told you.” I give him a smile that is anything but hospitable. “Special forces. We are Sawyer’s bodyguards.”

I hear her groan, and it’s only then I realize the entire newsroom has gone quiet.

“Sawyer, get your ass in here!” A booming voice rolls over the crowd, and everyone scatters, going back to work.

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