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“And now you’re using your simple gestures to manipulate me into kissing you.”
“No, I'm cashing in on my win.” His lips ghost my mouth. “But you want it, too, don’t you?” Softly, he sweeps his lips across mine, noses brushing.
The intoxicating scent of whiskey and his cologne entices me. If he weren’t so damn sexy, I’d have more willpower, but I’m weak to his beauty. It masks his malevolence and sucks me in.
Jagger cradles my head in the palm of his hand, slowly guiding my mouth to his. “Just fucking kiss me, Scar.”
So I do. Because Jagger won and I’m a girl of my word. I grab his shoulders and force the kiss deeper. It’s abrasive and rough, nothing sweet about it. Years of anguish spill into his mouth while he reciprocates the gesture.
The bitter taste of aged whiskey soaks my tongue as it laps at his.
He grips my hair and digs into my scalp, knotting it around his fingers. My body falls back and he covers my chest with his. “Fuck, Scar. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.”
His words hit my ears like a drum, the vibration shooting between my thighs. I’ll never admit it out loud, but I’ve dreamt of what it would be like to have all three of them, individually and at the same time.
A win on his part has suddenly become a win on mine, and there isn’t a part of me that feels an ounce of regret.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Until now.
I shove Jagger off me and he rolls onto his back. My body shoots up. “Crew?”
The betrayal in his eyes slices through me, and it’s a feeling I won’t soon forget.
Without another word, Crew spins around, leaving as fast as he came.
“Crew, wait.” I sit up, tugging my sweatshirt down.
Jagger tries to pull me back down on the blanket, but I don’t give in this time. “Let him go. He’s fine. Everything is fine.”
No. Everything is not fine.If it were, I wouldn’t feel like I betrayed Crew in some way. Earlier on the trail, things felt different. Like old times. I’d hate to ruin the progress we made. Even if it wasn't real on Crew’s part, it was on mine.
“I’m sorry.” I stand up, sweeping bits of snow off my pants. “I have to go.”
“Wait a damn minute.” Jagger gets up, too, bringing the bottle with him. “I’ll come with you.”
I nod. “Okay.” He really should have someone around when he goes down that ladder. I’d hate to be responsible if something happens and I’m the last person who could've helped him.
We’re slow moving due to Jagger’s sluggish pace. When we do get to the ladder, I let him go first because as much as I don’t want to see his brains splatter at the bottom, I don't want him taking me down with him either.
“Here,” I reach for the bottle, “give me that so you can use both hands.”
He huffs and puffs. “I’ve got it. I’ve got it.” And he tucks it under his arm. Facing me, he steps down and he seems to be doing all right.
“Slow,” I tell him.
“Would you quit worrying so damn much?” His body disappears and all I see is his head when he says, with a lopsided grin, “You still owe me a kiss since that one was interrupted.”
Jesus. What more can one get from a kiss? It was pretty fucking intense.
“I think you’ve been paid in full.”
“We’ll see about that.”
His head goes down, and the next thing I know, the loud thud of the shattering bottle rings in my ears. “Dammit, Jagger!” I blow out a breath as I step off the edge.
I look down and see him stopped on the ladder while staring up at me. “Oops.”
