Just as I was about to pull Marina back into my arms for another round—her lips already parting in anticipation, her fingers tracing lazy circles on my chest—the sharp wail of a siren pierced the air.
The sound was jarring, unnatural, cutting through the heavy silence of the room like a knife. Marina's eyes flickered with annoyance, but she didn't hesitate. She slid off my lap with a fluid grace, her body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure.
"Looks like someone's eager to ruin our fun," she murmured, her voice laced with amusement rather than concern. She reached for her dress, the fabric slipping over her curves like a second skin. "Get dressed, Jack. We wouldn't want to keep them waiting."
I didn't argue. The urgency in the siren's cry was unmistakable, and the last thing I needed was to give anyone—especially the law—a reason to linger. I pulled on my clothes quickly, my mind already racing through the possibilities.
