Kurt was reviewing the convoy routes Cassandra had marked when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He glanced up, and every coherent thought he'd had promptly fucked off.
Emma descended into the lounge, and she looked like she'd walked straight out of a dream designed to ruin men.
Her black hair, usually tied back in a practical ponytail, fell loose around her shoulders in soft waves.
She wore a fitted black gown that hugged every curve with a plunging neckline that showed just enough to make imagination run wild. A high slit ran up her thigh, revealing smooth tan skin and the leather holster strapped there.
When she descended down the stairs in movements that made the already fitted gown tighten even more, Kurt forgot how to breathe.
Rook looked up from the map spread across the table, his expression unchanging. "Big plans today."
It wasn't a question.
