Page 12 of The Soldier

But as I said, I’m still enjoying our games, so I deadpan reply with, “That’s my gun darlin’.”

It’s not.

Her cheeks flame.

How is it possible for a woman to get even more sexy the angrier she gets? She’s like a wild little wolf.

I’ll soon find out if she has a limit, because I’m pretty sure I have the timing right when I release her and step away.

Yup, right on cue.

Savannah walks out of the restroom. “Hey, Trina.”

My little wolf glances between me and the movie star, smoke pouring out her ears.

Do. Not. Laugh.

“Ready to go or do you want to wait for Ryder?” I ask, but the man himself joins us.

“Party in the hallway. Smooth,” Ryder says, looping an arm around his wife.

Trina glares at me, speechless.

When Ryder and Savannah make their way down the hall, I lean into her hair. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you think I was waiting for you, little wolf?”

I pat her bottom and stride ahead to protect my charge.

“Sorry about that.” I toss over my shoulder. At the end of the hall, I glance around, and Trina is still standing in the same place with her hands on her hips.

I reach inside my jacket, pull out my weapon and check the magazine. Then slam it back with the palm of my hand and return it to my holster just under my arm.

She’s smart. She’ll work it out.

Meanwhile, I wonder if my little wolf bites playfully or enjoys it rough.

CHAPTER THREE

TRINA

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That did not just happen. Fury is slicing through my veins, and I need to get it out of my system.

I pace the hallway for a few minutes, pulling my phone in and out of my small purse muttering to myself.

I swear if Jason Momoa sees me looking like an insane asylum escapee, I will kill Marshall.

If it’s Henry Cavill, I will kill him slowly.

And why the hell did he call me little wolf?

I must’ve missed Savannah by seconds when I exited the stall, otherwise I clearly would’ve put two and two together. Finding Marshall standing outside the restrooms did make me leap to an assumption. I was wrong.

Fine.

But I wasn’t wrong about his erection.

That’s my gun.

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