Thank you for your letter. Once again, hearing from you has brought light to my darkness.
You asked me why I left the Marines. I’llwarn you, it’s not a good story. The memories from my time enlisted fill my nightmares. I much prefer when my dreams are filled with you, instead.
It started when we got called into a small town overseas. Insurgents had swept through the night before and left half the place burning. The whole town was strangely silent at first as we walked through the smoke-filled streets.
The people came out slowly, like ghosts. Kids covered in dirt, barefoot, women holding them tight. Every door was broken, every man we saw looked hollowed out. I remember one boy standing tall in front of his mother. He was maybe ten years old, clutching a stick like it was a rifle. His hands were shaking so hard he couldn’t hold it steady.
I felt an uncontrollable guilt at that moment. One that told me this ten-year-old boy had more honor than I did. Here he was, protecting his mother with nothing but a stick while I’d failed mine.
That night, I knew I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life patching holes in places that weren’t mine. I wanted to come home. To take what I’d learned and use it where it mattered most by cleaning up my old neighborhood.
That’s why I carry a compass on my skin. It reminds me where I’ve been, and what I’m fighting for.
When I returned, Jason didn’t feel like a fitting name anymore. I felt like I needed a name with sharper edges, that’s how I came to be called Jagger. A new name for a new man. I worked on cleaning up my old neighborhood for four years before I was caught, as you already know.
My tiny flame, what I wouldn’t give to get out of here and hold you just once. To steal you away from your pretty box and show you everything this world has to offer.
I wonder if we weren’t trapped in our cages, where we’d enjoy spending time together. A beach where we could watch the waves lap at the shore? A park where we could watch birds flying freely and children playing. Or an overlook somewhere, staring down at a forest of green?
Just promise me something. If you ever hear of a man called Conte Noir, you run the other way. Stay far away from him.
I wish I could be there with you, to wrap you in my arms and keep you safe.
Take care, tiny flame.
Yours always,
Jagger
“Yours always,” I whisper, rememberingthe way he signed off most of his letters. A finger tilts my chin up so I’m looking at him as his brow furrows in question.
“That’s how you signed off your letters—yours always,” I say softly before licking my lips with an unspoken question on the tip of my tongue. His eyes soften, and he nods. “Did you mean it?” I whisper, even quieter this time, afraid to ask but wanting to know the answer.
He nods as he grips my hand and places my palm on his chest, over his heart. He doesn’t need to say anything; I can see the way he feels about me shining through his eyes.
“That’s so romantic,” I say with a sigh.
“Fucking hell, he didn’t even read the book!” Dex curses, making me pull away from Jagger and turn to see him standing between the beds, scowling down at Jagger.
“What book—” I cut myself off, my mind going blank when I get my first good look at him.
The only thing he’s wearing is a pair of tight boxers that don’t do a good job of hiding his large bulge.
Dios mio!He’s… HUGE.
My eyes widen as they move to his tree-trunk thighs, ripped with muscles. I swallow the lump in my throat as my eyes travel up and up.
He’s definitely the biggest of all of them; his shoulders are as broad as the door frame, and he’s covered in tattoos from his neck to his boxers. Beautiful swirls of color cover his skin. His arms are also fully colored, making him look like a real work of art. Somehow, he looks gorgeous and delicious.Is that weird?
“I’d give anything to know what you’re thinking right now,” Dex says in a much calmer tone. My eyes flick up to his, and I see amusement and what I think is heatshining back at me.
Remembering that I’m supposed to be trying to share my thoughts more and stop keeping everything internal, I admit, “I was wondering what you taste like.” Licking my lips, I add, “Is that normal?” My eyes skate over his body again. The bulge in his pants moves, and a small whimper escapes me.
He starts to take a step toward me, his hand raising to reach for me, but he’s interrupted. “Showers free, Dex,” Sly says as he moves around the bed with just a towel slung around his waist.
“Party pooper,” Dex mumbles. He looks back at me and gives me a wink before hurrying off to the bathroom.
My attention immediately shifts to Sly. I’d seen his chest last night when I slept on it, but seeing him standing here now, in nothing but a towel… It does things to me I don’t understand. In fact, I’ve been feeling that low clench of attraction all morning, and it was only getting worse the more skin I saw. Dex might have been the tallest, but Sly was only an inch behind him.
