Get Your Sexy On

by Kimberky Kaye Terry

  her, in his arms.

  Taking a deep breath, Sienna felt that small bit she·d been withholding from him release.

  With it, came the knowledge that Mac would never abuse her in the way she·d come to expect from

  men. With that, came a

  burgeoning belief that she could completely trust him.

  Í do,µ she agreed simply, before closing her eyes.

  They both released sighs of contentment, and Sienna drifted off into a peaceful sleep, Mac·s strong

  arms wrapped securely around her.

  31

  ´T his is cake. I can get in and out, bugs placed, in less than an hour.µ

  ´Time is short. How soon can you get in there?µ Mac asked, peering at the assortment of gadgets and

  various electronic bugs strewn over the makeshift office he·d set up in Sienna·s kitchen.

  Jake Runninghorse·s solemn face was thoughtful, his dark, watchful eyes squinted.

  ´Tonight,µ he

  answered succinctly, and turned back to his work, carefully examining each piece.

  Sienna had returned to work, despite Mac·s insistence that she stay at home and call in sick for the

  week. He·d told her in no uncertain terms that he didn·t want her to leave his sight, didn·t want to chance

  Marks paying her another visit.

  She·d then told him in no uncertain terms that she was a grown woman and able to take care of

  herself.

  So much for laying down the law.

  After a heated debate, he·d allowed her to go. Unknown to her, he·d asked Kyle to follow her and

  hang out around the school until she got off at three o·clock.

  There was always a way around a stubborn

  woman, he thought. He·d

  suffered through Kyle·s mocking laughter that she had him whipped.

  He could handle being whipped, As long as my woman is safe from harm.

  His mental wording gave him pause. My woman.

  Mac wasn·t sure how true that was. Didn·t know how much either she or he wanted it to be true.

  ´What about Sienna? What sort of bug can you place on her so that we can be in

  communication with

  her on the yacht?µ

  Śimple. Have her wear this.µ

  Runninghorse carefully opened a leather pouch and tipped out one

  diamond earring. He placed it in the palm of Mac·s outstretched hand.

  Ńice,µ Mac complimented, ´but how is this going to protect her?µ He turned the earring over in his

  hand. It had a diamond chip on both ends of a small, thin bar.

  Óther than it looking kinda strange, it·s

  pretty. She·ll love it.µ

  ´Pretty it may be, my friend, but it also serves a dual purpose. It has a micro²fiber-optic chip embedded within the diamond that serves as a communication device.µ

  ´Why not give her a bug she can wear inside her ear? Wouldn·t anyone be able to hear the communication if they·re within earshot if she wore this one?µ

  Mac asked in doubt. Ánd

  where·s the other

  one?µ

  Í see you know nothing about fashion. Or your woman.µ

  Runninghorse took the earring from Mac.

  ´What the hell is that supposed to mean?µ Mac didn·t like the man implying that he knew more about

  Sienna than Mac did.

  ´Take it easy. I make it a point to notice minute details. It·s in my nature.µ

  Mac grunted, but let it go. The man was a genius with spy-ware and COMMO. He needed

  Runninghorse on his side, to ensure not only the success of the mission, but also Sienna·s safety.

  Í believe Sienna has her tragus pierced, right?µ

  ´Her what?µ

  Runninghorse flicked at the small cartilage projecting immediately in front of his ear canal to

  demonstrate.

  Óh yeah, that tragus,µ Mac mumbled.

  He recalled that Sienna had both ears pierced, and also wore a small ring above her ear, in her³what

  he now knew was called³

  tragus.

  ´How did you know she wore that kind of ring?µ Mac asked.

  Í probably know more about her than you do,µ Runninghorse answered, carefully placing the earring

  back in the pouch before turning his unreadable gaze toward Mac.

  Again, Mac felt unreasonable anger at his suggestion that he knew Sienna better than he did, but let

  it go. Runninghorse was doing him a favor, simply repaying an old debt.

  Ít·s what I do for all my cases.

  This one is no different.µ He gave the slight amendment, amusement

  lurking in his eyes at Mac·s obvious irritation.

  Áll she needs to do is wear the ring like she normally does her other one, both ends pick up sound,

  and she can communicate into it as well by speaking in a low voice. It·ll pick up everything.

  This is all she

  needs to do,µ he said, and gave Mac a quick tutorial on how to work the device.

  ´Good enough. I·ll show her how it works, and how to wear it.µ

  Mac glanced over at the small clock mounted on the wall.

  ´We·ve got an hour or so before she·ll be

  home. You·ll be gone by then.µ

  He plopped back down in the seat he·d vacated and rebooted his computer.

  Í·ll need to meet her.µ

  Mac looked away from his

  monitor and back toward

  Runninghorse. ´Why·s that?µ

  Again, Runninghorse·s dark eyes mirrored his humor, although his face remained bland. ´You and Kyle

  will be parked outside in the van,µ he began, reminding Mac of the plan that he and his partner would be

  outside, waiting, a small distance away. Í will be on board, and a few of my men, among the crew. Sienna

  needs to know what I look like. I prefer she meet me, a photo won·t do. She needs to know I·m one of the

  good guys.µ

  Mac acknowledged the truth of his words, forcing his irrational anger to the side.

  Í still think I need to get on board. I don·t feel good about waiting outside. Something could go down

  ³µ

  Í·ll be there. You trusted me enough in Afghanistan, you can trust me now.µ

  ´Yeah, well, that involved the Taliban. Not my woman.µ He made the statement a warning.

  ´Yes. And just like then, you can count on me now. I·m more than able to do my duty. I would do no

  less with your woman,µ

  Runninghorse countered.

  The two men stared at one another for long moments, memories of an earlier time³

  when they had

  no one but the small band of soldiers to rely on³flashed between them.

  With a nod, Mac silently gave Runninghorse his trust.

  The doorbell rang and Mac pushed away from the table. Í·ll get that,µ he said, walking toward the

  door. His hand went to his side, on his holster, ready. After looking through the peephole, he slowly opened

  the door.

  A uniformed man stood outside.

  ´Package for Sienna

  Featherstone. Sign here,

  please.µ The courier

  pushed a clipboard toward him.

  Mac took the clipboard, signed, and accepted the small box from the man. Grabbing his wallet, Mac

  withdrew two bills and handed them to the courier before he closed the door.

  He turned and wasn·t surprised when Runninghorse stood near the door, an expectant look on his

  face.

  Because there was no return address, Mac opened the box carefully and withdrew a velvet-covered

  jewelry box. He opened it and nestled inside was a delicate diamond choker.

  ´What is it?µ

  Śome kind of necklace.µ Both men walked back to the kitchen to examine the necklace.

>   Mac withdrew the necklace from the box and held it up to the bright lights of the kitchen, peering

  close at it.

  Ĺooks real. If not, a damn good knockoff,µ he commented.

  ´There·s a note.µ Runninghorse went to his satchel next to his equipment and withdrew a pair of

  rubber gloves and pulled them onto his long fingers. He lifted the note from the box and read it out loud:

  Make sure you wear this,

  Saturday.

  Ít probably came from Marks.µ

  Mac glanced over at the note, written on expensive-looking stationery.

  There was a gold embossed M in the corner. Ńo return address,µ

  Mac said, turning the package over,

  searching for clues.

  Ĺet me take this. Maybe I can lift a print from it.µ

  ´How will you do that?µ

  Í have a friend down at the local police station. I·ll use one of his techs and see what we can come

  up with.µ

  Runninghorse carefully took the note and folded it in a plastic bag before placing it in his tote.

  He

  turned back to Mac. Ĺet me look at the necklace again,µ he said, and held the necklace in his hand.

  He ran his fingers gently over the diamond-studded choker.

  His expression thoughtful, he traced his

  fingers over the link between each fourth diamond.

  ´What is it?µ Mac asked.

  ´The links have a sharp edge.µ

  Ánd?µ

  Íf pressed into the skin with the right pressure, they·d leave a mark. See this?µ He held the necklace

  up so Mac could see better, his gloved forefinger rubbing the underside of the link.

  ´Yeah.µ

  ´Feel it.µ

  Mac fingered the link, surprised that the delicate-looking link felt sharp against his skin.

  Ánd take a look at the clasp,µ

  Runninghorse continued, turning the necklace around.

  Ĺooks adjustable. Would fit any woman·s neck.µ

  ´Yes, that, and it can tighten easily, without breaking the chain.µ

  ´Hmmm. Yeah, I see that.µ

  Runninghorse ran his hands over the necklace once more before he deposited it back in Mac·s hands.

  Ás soon as you get her okay, I·d like to examine that, again, before she wears it.µ

  Ís there something you·re not telling me?µ

  Ńothing concrete, just a hunchµ

  was all Runninghorse said, his expression closed.

  Í·ll get it to you tomorrow. Just let me get Sienna·s permission.µ

  ´Good enough.µ

  ´Mac, could you give me a hand?µ Both men turned when Sienna·s voice called out.

  ´Damn, she·s home. I·ll be back, stay put,µ Mac said, ignoring Runninghorse·s lifted brow and amused

  expression.

  Mac strode from the room and reached Sienna, who was at the front door, carrying two filled paper

  bags.

  Ĺet me take these.µ He leaned down and delivered a kiss to her soft lips before he grabbed the bags

  from her.

  ´Thanks,µ she said, allowing him to take the grocery bags away.

  She adjusted her bag over her shoulder.

  Í have a friend here. He was in the service with Kyle and me.

  He·s going to help us out with the case.

  He·s in the kitchen.µ

  Óh? Is he going to follow me around all day like your other friend, your partner?µ she asked, and

  Mac felt a schoolboy desire to blush at being busted.

  Úh, yeah, well, about that«µ

  They entered the room, and Runninghorse was gathering the last of his equipment into his leather

  tote. He turned to face them, a smile stretching his lips wide.

  ´Hello, Ms. Featherstone, I·m Jake Runninghorse. It·s a pleasure to meet you.µ

  Runninghorse stuck his hand out to shake Sienna·s. Mac had never seen the man behave so friendly.

  Mac placed the bags on the counter and moved to stand in front of Sienna.

  32

  S ienna tried to move Mac·s very large, unyielding body from her line of vision. ´Move!µ she hissed to no

  avail. This was becoming an ugly habit of his.

  Shoving as hard as she could, she finally gave up and simply reached around him and

  accepted Jake·s

  hand.

  She stared into the darkest, sexiest eyes she·d ever seen in a man.

  He and Mac were of the same height, both large men. But where Mac was heavily

  muscled, Jake was

  more streamlined, his lean body tightly muscled.

  Her appreciative gaze ran over him. He was dressed in similar clothing to Mac·s. Low-riding black

  jeans, hard-toed black boots, and a chest-hugging fitted black T-shirt.

  Although he was leaner than Mac, Sienna could visibly see the outline of his chest muscles behind the

  formfitting T-shirt. Her eyes trailed down his chest to his flat belly and narrow waist.

  His face had prominent

  cheekbones and a hawklike nose, which dominated his face, evidence of his

  Native American heritage. His deep-set eyes were sable brown and hinted at a tilt in the corners,

  surrounded by thick, dense lashes.

  A small smile kicked up the corners of his full lips, and Sienna blushed. There was something about

  him that affected her on a basic female level.

  Looking at him and the casual way his long body leaned

  against her counter³silently observing her as

  she looked him over³she

  experienced instant images of long nights of hot sex and tangled bodies.

  Startled, Sienna jerked her head in surprise when Mac spun around and snatched her

  against him, the

  look in his eyes territorial. One arm lay low on her waist, the other tunneled in the back of her head. He

  brought her mouth to his, fully kissing her.

  He slid his tongue inside the lower rim of her mouth, taking his time kissing her in slow, drugging

  caresses. Sienna wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Finally he released her, and Sienna stumbled back, bit her bottom lip, and held on to the kitchen

  counter to steady herself.

  She kept her smile from

  surfacing.

  Definitely territorial.

  Mac turned to the other man.

  ´Jake, this is Sienna,µ he finished the introduction.

  Ít·s nice to meet you, Mr.

  Runninghorse.µ

  Ńice to meet you, too, ma·am.

  Please call me Jake.µ

  Sienna grasped his hand.

  ´Jake.µ

  Í·ll leave Mac to fill you in on the details of the plan for Saturday.µ He released her hand after holding

  it long enough to get Mac·s blood boiling again.

  ´Why don·t I see you out, Runninghorse. I·ll be back in a sec, babe.µ Mac kissed her again; then he

  and Jake left the room.

  Sienna took a breath, inhaling deeply, before blowing out the breath of air slowly.

  That much testosterone in one room could be fatal to a woman, she thought. Fanning herself, she set about putting away the groceries.

  Í gather Runninghorse has your seal of approval?µ

  Sienna glanced over her

  shoulder when Mac entered the kitchen. She turned back to the pot in her

  hand, filled with water, and placed it on top of the stove, turning up the heat.

  She circled around to face him with a stirring spoon in one hand and the other hand resting on her

  hip.

  ´He seems to be nice enough. Is there a problem?µ

  His face appeared neutral, but she·d gotten to know him. His eyes gave away his true

  feelings.

  He was jealous as hell.

&nbs
p; Sienna hid her smirk.

  Ńo problem. Just want you to be comfortable around him. He·s going to play a vital role in how all of

  this goes down.µ

  As the water began to bubble in the pot, Sienna walked to the refrigerator and withdrew a package of

  chicken drumsticks. She

  reached up and drew down a skillet, pouring a generous amount of oil in the pan.

  After she seasoned the

  drumsticks, she opened a

  cabinet drawer and withdrew a package of pasta.

  Opening the package, she

  withdrew the long noodles and placed them in the boiling water.

  She jumped, nearly upsetting the pot, when Mac·s arms

  wrapped around her.

  ´Mac!µ

  He pulled her away from the stove, moving with her to the middle of the kitchen. Sienna turned within

  his embrace. His hooded eyes stared moodily down at her.

  ´What?µ she asked.

  Ńothing. Just this,µ he said, and covered her mouth with his.

  He pressed his lips against hers, his tongue licking at the seam of her lips, demanding entrance.

  With a sigh, Sienna opened her mouth and he pressed his slick, moist tongue deep inside. Their tongues circled, dueled, and lapped at each other before he withdrew.

  ´You·re mine, Sienna. Don·t get too familiar with Runninghorse.µ

  She raised a brow at his

  demanding tone³ignoring her reaction to his hot kisses, her chest still

  heaving from the quick

  caresses. ´What·s that supposed to mean?µ

  Ít means that I saw the way you were checking him out.

  Don·t let that happen again.µ

  Śince when did I give you permission to tell me who I could check out?µ

  ´The first time you gave me access to your body.µ

  Sienna licked her dry lips, staring into his face, trying to ascertain his mood, trying to figure out the

  message behind his words, beyond the words.

  ´When you gave me full entry into your life, your body, you gave me permission to take care of you. I