Page 35 of Sherwood
“Why do you want to know?” he asked after a minute. He wouldn’t look at me, even when I looked over at him, and it suddenly felt like my ribs had contracted inward on themselves, like there wasn’t enough room for my lungs to pull in the air they needed. So I held Marian a little tighter, like I could possess her thoughts by sheer proximity, like she could possess mine in return. Like she could crowd out the lingering memories of anyone else—specifically the memories of a certain half-British spy.
“I don’t have a reason other than curiosity,” she finally answered, her voice soft. “When I think of you two together, I’m jealous and curious and…and I don’t know. Greedy for both of you. Greedy to know everything about you, even if it’s about how you loved each other before now.”
The wordlovedwas like a gunshot in a closed room, a lethal crack through the air, leaving blood and plaster dust in its wake, and I closed my eyes when I heard it.
Loved. Yes. I’d loved him.
If I was being honest, I loved him still.
Rafe had frozen next to me—even his hands on Marian’s arm were utterly motionless—
and just when I thought he would say nothing, when I thought the moment would die the death it should have died before it was even born into being, he spoke.
“Yes, Marian,” answered the wolf finally. “I miss them.”
I looked at him and he looked at me.
“The warlike parts,” he said, his gaze not leaving mine. “The wrong parts. I miss them all.”
His eyes were hooded, his long lashes draping his eyes in shadows upon shadows, and I’d forgotten what it felt like to have all that lupine attention on me, all that dangerous hunger settled onme. It made me want to growl and bite, to take and chase.
Not to warn him off, but to provoke him into growling and biting back.
“I miss them too,” I said in a low voice.
“But you left,” said Rafe.
I drew in a shaky breath. “Well, I’m back now.”
He was closer now—or maybe it was me who was closer, maybe it had been me who’d pressed in, who’d sought the ghosts of his exhales on my lips. Maybe it had been me, and maybe leaving had never mattered, because leaving only changed where you were, not who you were, not whom you loved, and maybe it was some kind of sick fate that I’d end up right here with Marian and Rafe. Feeling Marian in my arms and Rafe’s breath against my lips.
Now it was him who drew in the shaky inhale, and then it was our mouths brushing once, twice, before finally connecting in a searing slash of want. Rafe couldn’t even kiss without reconnaissance, but I couldn’t be mad about it, not when his lips were as warm as his kiss was demanding. I met him back, matching demand for demand, until he relented and let me push my tongue between his lips.
He groaned as I did so, and Marian was twisting in my lap, and Rafe’s fingers were in her hair and also fisting in my leather jacket at the same time. The stroke of his tongue against mine was like gasoline in my blood, accelerant on a bonfire, and his scent was all around me, crisp paper and hard metal.
A rough hand shoved itself down the front of my pants, finding my clit with unerring accuracy—and Marian’s soft mouth was all over my neck as her hand joined Rafe’s—and he was hauling her closer—and for a single tangled and panting moment, everything was perfect.
Perfect.
It didn’t matter that Rafe was a dominant, that we could only kiss and grab and fuck as some sort of twisted battle of wills, because Marian was between us, absorbing pinches and squeezes and bites with delighted sighs. It didn’t matter that Marian was never supposed to want this, because she’d already proven that she did want it, and she’d wanted it enough to find it without me. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t supposed to be here, that I shouldn’t be with them at all, much less crossing all the boundaries there were to cross, because the only thing that could ever matter was this filthy and long-denied kiss.
The only thing that could ever, ever matter was the three of us: the thief, the maiden, and the wolf.
It took me far too long to become aware of Jovanna speaking into my earpiece—her low voice had been drowned out by the gasps and groans and the feeling of Marian softly, but with admirable expertise, edging me toward a massive release.
“Lox,” Jove was saying in my ear. “Lox, did you hear that last part? Zhang isthere. He’s there at The Knot. He’s at the bar, and Will says there’re three cars in the parking lot that are coming back with cloned registrations. Which means you need to get the fuck out of there.Now.”
It only took two heartbeats for Jovanna’s words to process. One heartbeat to hear. Another heartbeat to understand.
I’ve been set up.
Jovanna had been right all along—tonight was a trap and I’d swallowed the bait whole. In front of a crowd no less.
I shoved myself back, getting myself off the bed in a few fast, sharp movements. Both Rafe and Marian blinked at me with pupil-blown eyes, their lips wet and swollen, both of them visibly and obscenely aroused.
I was shaking, and to my eternal shame, it was only half from the fury and adrenaline of realizing I was about to be captured.
The other half was utter longing to be back on that bed.
