“You were in a cell together for nine months and none of you even considered trying to learn?” They both stay silent, looking properly chastised as they avoid meeting my gaze. I turn back to Jagger. “I’m going to learn, we all are. Teach me something now?”
His eyes bore into mine, and his hands clench at his sides, like he’s trying to hold himself back.Is he upset?Suddenly, he lunges for me, making me squeak out in surprise as he pushes me to my back and lies over me without crushing me with his full weight.
“Ja—” I start to say his name, but I’m cut off when his lips press to mine.
Holy mother of muffins! He's kissing me!
The shock lasts for only a few seconds before his mouth starts to move. His lips seem to explore mine slowly, and eventually, I try to match the movement, having no idea what I’m doing. His tongue traces the seam of my mouth, and I part my lips for him. His tongue presses in, massagingmine, and I moan, my arms and legs encircling him to keep him close.
I’ve never felt anything like this before. I thought looking at him made my core tingle… That’s not even close to what I’m feeling right now. I grow wetter as my entire body starts to yearn for him, like I can’t get close enough. I try to thrust my hips up against him, but he pulls back, unhooking my hands and legs from him as he stares down at me with an unreadable look on his face.
I pant heavily, regret forming in my gut as he starts to stand up. “Did I do something wrong?” I whisper in concern.
Suddenly, hands wrench him back, and Sly slides in front of me like a wall, silent and furious, his gaze a blade pointed straight at Jagger.
Jagger rights himself and stands up tall, staring back at Sly as I watch them both with wide eyes.
“What’s happening?” I whisper, unsure what’s going on.
“Sly’s mad that he touched you,” Pete says from my side. Had he been there that whole time? Did he watch me kiss Jagger?
“No,” Sly seethes, not taking his eyes off Jagger. “I’m mad that he forced that on you, that he didn’t give you the choice, something he’s madeveryclear is extremely important.”
“If it makes you feel any better, Sly,” I say, pushing myself up to a sitting position. “I wanted him to do it.”
“It doesn’t matter; he should have asked.”
“And how was he supposed to do that? Type it out on the phone?”
“Yes.”
“Sly?” I ask, making him turn to face me. “Are you really upset with him?”
“Yes. I would have ended him already, were it not for my reluctance to cause you pain.”
My heart softens, knowing he cares about me so strongly. My eyes catch on the exposed skin at the top of his neck and, for the first time, I realize he’s changed. He’s wearing black dress pants and a matching black button-up dress shirt, rolled up to his elbows, exposing black-and-white tattoos on his right forearm. His black hair is pushed back, staying in place somehow as he looks down at me. Suddenly, I forgot what we were even talking about.
“You look so different,” I say, my eyes traveling down to his matching dress shoes. “I love it.”
“Wren,” he says in warning. “We’re not done with this conversation.”
“What conversation?” I ask, noticing how his biceps bulge, pushing the shirt to its limits.
“The one where I remind you that you don’t have to accept anything from us, just because you think you have to.”
I push to my feet and step closer to him. Exuding a strength I don’t yet feel, I boldly run my hand up his chest. The hair poking out at the top intrigues me enough for me to run my fingers through it.
“Does it bother you when I touch you like this?” I whisper, delighted in how much I like having my hands on him.
“No. You can touch me anywhere you want.”
“How is that any different from what Jagger did?”
“We don’t know your limits yet.”
“And I don’t know yours.”
“But we’re men, and you’re…”
