Page 48 of Haunted Hearts

I lift her, pressing her more firmly onto the counter, needing her closer—

And then I see him. Jack. Standing at the base of the steps.

Watching.

I don’t stop. I continue kissing her, touching her, letting him see exactly who she belongs to. My hand trails lower, dipping into her pants, feeling the heat between her thighs as I stare directly at him.

His eyes are dark. Hungry and possessive. He remembers. I know he does.

If it weren’t for the fact that he was wearing Jack’s body, I would already have him on his knees. I miss the violence of it. The control. The way he used to unravel under my hands. We shared everything once. Power. Blood. Bodies.

But not her. Never her.

I feel something ugly and territorial rise in my chest at the thought of Jack’s body touching her. He will never have her. He forfeited that a long time ago.

Alok, however… my cock throbs at the memory of him. Of us.

Despite myself, the image of all of us tangled together claws into my mind—Calli grinding against me, desperate and breathless. Alok watching and patiently waiting, ready to take what was his as well.

It makes me rabid.

I grind against her, unable to stop myself, needing the friction, needing to remind him. She unzips my pants, her fingers trembling slightly, and I feel my control slipping further. Then she sees him and her entire body stiffens. She pulls her shirt down quickly, covering herself.

“Holy fuck, Jack, why didn’t you say something?”

The way she says his name. Jack. Not Alok.

Heat builds in my chest, sharp and violent; she’s not angry, she’s fucking blushing.

Something inside me coils tighter. I look at him, and his expression doesn’t change, but I see it. He is angry, not at first glance, just under the surface, like it’s a fucking challenge. I adjust myself slowly, deliberately not breaking eye contact.

“What do you want?”

His gaze sharpens—he needs something.

“Got time to play some COD?” he asks, his tone casual, but his eyes speak directly to mine. It may be Jack’s face but I know that expression all too well, he wants me alone.

His timing was intentional. Fucking bastard.

Calli takes a sip of her coffee, pretending nothing happened. But her pulse is racing. The uneven rhythm faster than it should be.

I can hear it. And so can he.

His eyes flick between us, not missing the smallest shift in her breathing, not missing the way her fingers tighten slightly around the mug, not missing the way my body remains angled toward hers as if gravity itself refuses to release me from her.

Possession coils deep in my chest. Not his. Mine.

“Go ahead,” Calli says softly, her voice carefully neutral, as if she can force the moment to disappear simply by refusing to acknowledge it. “I’ve got some research to do with Gen anyway.” She lifts the mug again, but her hand isn’t as steady as she wants it to be; I can feel the tension in the air.

I follow Jack upstairs and into his room, the familiar creak of the floorboards beneath my feet grounding me in the present moment, barely containing the tension building beneath my skin. The moment we cross the threshold, I close the door behind us with enough force to rattle the frame, the sound echoing off the wall.

Alok turns slowly, already watching me, waiting to gauge my reaction.

“What the fuck was that?” I demand, stepping toward him, every muscle in my body tight with barely restrained fury.

“What?” he asks, his tone casual, but his eyes betray him. They drag over me deliberately, slowly, consuming every reaction, every weakness, every memory. He closes the distance between us, his movements unhurried, deliberate, as if he knows exactly how much control he still holds over me. The proximity makes my skin burn.

“I know you,” I say, my voice lower now, quieter, more dangerous. “And I don’t trust you with her. If you keep pushing this, she will find out.”