LUNA #3
He’s tense when I cup his cheek, and his eyes bug when I force him to face me. It doesn’t stop me from kissing him.
It’s the feel of his lips—hardened by the cold, chapped by the wind—that shifts something in my chest and floods a chemical through my veins that is as unfamiliar as it is potent.
At once, I’m dense as an oak tree, heavy as an iron ploy.
Yet, I can’t feel the wood beneath my rear.
We’re high up in the trees, and surely that is the reason that for a moment, I swear, I float.
Sawyer grips my elbow as he turns to me, his firm mouth softening as he kisses me back with a warmth that makes the winter air seem like spring. My tongue is the first to invade, and it strikes me in my core how different it feels.
Every time we’ve kissed before, every contact of skin has felt electric but wrong. A forbidden fruit I promised I’d never eat or a diamond-stubbed path with a caution sign warning me not to enter. It was good. It was free.
But it was also dirty. Guilt-ridden. Guarded. And at many times, strategic.
For the first time, I say hello without a goodbye already perched on my lips.
My nails sink into Sawyer’s shoulders as I straddle his thighs and kiss him deeper, our mouths fusing.
It makes it all the more jolting when he rips away.
“What?” I ask, breathing heavily as I shrink. “What’s wrong?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not doing this unless you choose.”
I rear my head back, eyebrows pinching as I wait for him to explain.
“Right now…” Sawyer swallows, a glint flashing in his eyes. Worry. Vulnerability. “Me or Thorne.”
My eyebrows smooth as I release a deep breath, hands finding Sawyer once again. I run them from his chest up to his face and hold his jaw steady. “You.”
He narrows his eyes. “Don’t just tell me what I want to hear. You have to mean it. If I wake up tomorrow—”
“Sawyer.”
His mouth closes, but he looks no less skeptical.
I don’t make a habit of laughing. In general, I wouldn’t say my sense of humor is what defines me.
But staring at this man now, this man who’s haunted my every waking thought for months…
Who’s poisoned my brain until I’ve committed crimes against my own people…
Who’s made me feel things about another person, about myself, that I didn’t realize were possible…
Now, I almost laugh.
I settle for a short huff, a subtle shake of my head, and a curve of my thumb over this beautiful man’s flawlessly tanned cheekbone.
“It’s not even close.”
The lines between his eyes vanish.
He kisses me. Ferociously. Eagerly. With his hand gliding down my spine and his penis hardening through his jeans.
I gasp when his hand squeezes my rear and yanks me against his pelvis.
He breaks from my lips to kiss along my jaw while pushing my chin to the sky. “By the way…” he starts between kisses. “Mr. Sanchez’s name is Angel. He’s Liberty’s husband and my ex-business partner.”
My eyes widen, but when I go to open my mouth, Sawyer’s palm presses up harder into my chin. My neck strains, jaw clenched shut. He plants a kiss on my neck.
“I reconfigured the DNS settings on the modem to direct traffic through an external server, bypassing the VPN so Angel could track the IP address…” Two more kisses, headed for my ear.
“By the time I told you about my plan, it was already in place. Shitty, I know. But it’s done. And I can handle it.”
He finishes the trail to my ear, his hold on my chin no less firm. “You know you’re going to forgive me, so let’s skip the anger and go straight to making up. ‘Kay?”
His tone isn’t arrogant, but the statement is so heavy with it, it makes my nose wrinkle. He lets go of my jaw and weaves his hand up my neck and into my hair to tilt my head back down. His lips find mine so fast, it couldn’t be clearer that he has no desire to hear a response.
My mouth is too tight to kiss him back this time, so he retreats to my neck instead, kissing me sloppily while massaging the nape of my neck. His free hand snakes around my waist so his thumb can rub along my hip bone.
It feels nice.
But he couldn’t possibly think it could be that simple.
“I killed Aubry.”
My hair tugs as he makes a fist. Pulling back, he looks at me with wide, shocked eyes.
“Well, I… I had her killed,” I clarify, as if it matters. “It was the right thing for my people.”
There’s a pinch in my scalp as his fist tightens. “You promised me—”
“Aiden’s dead too.” I adjust myself in Sawyer’s lap while he glares an itch into my arm. I lift my hand to scratch, only to lower it to my thigh. “They both got caught trying to escape, and I…”
A puff of white fogs in front of me when I blow out a shaky breath. “Sometimes I have to do things that I don’t want and that you don’t like, so I’m … sorry.” I look him up and down. “But you know you’re going to forgive me… So let’s skip the anger and go straight to making up. ‘Kay?”
Seconds pass while Sawyer seems to mentally commit murder. Forgiveness is a pleasant thought for those who’ve not been wronged.
And yet, I’ve already forgiven him.
“If you lay a hand on Angel or order anyone to lay a hand on Angel, that’s it for me.” He shakes his head. “I will never move past it… He’s family. Do you understand?”
I dip my chin. “Understood.”
“Any other secrets you’d like to share?” He splays his palms then lets them fall to his sides.
I look off for a moment, thinking. “I found a note inside a metal table leg in your old room… I’d like to know what it’s for.”
Sawyer gives me the slightest crooked smile, his head tipping to the side. “Well, that’s my secret, but sure. They’re your bank account numbers. And passwords.”
My head lurches back. “What?”
He nods.
“But… how?”
“Your computer password is the author of our favorite book plus the date of publication. It wasn’t hard to crack.”
Our favorite book.
He never lied about that.
I feel the heat rush to my face and try to remind myself it’s only him I’m so obvious to. That I’m not such a pathetically open book to the world.
“They’re useless to me now because your accounts are most likely already frozen. Which was Angel’s doing.”
Sawyer chuckles at whatever look of shock must cross my expression. “This is kind of fun.”
By the tightness that pinches my cheeks, he must know I disagree. “Is it?”
He shrugs.
Fun. Honesty is fun. My surprise at learning of his deception is fun.
All right, then.
Let’s play.
“I never planned to execute Liberty. I only wanted to watch you squirm when I informed you of it.”
Sawyer smiles as his hands lift, fingers wiggling. “Oh, boy. Good one.”
“Do you remember in the training house when I gave you the rest of my dinner? The soup?”
He blinks, bored like he has no memory, but I know he does.
I had listened to him bitch and moan for days at that point about the Cultivator meals we’d been served—mostly vegetables.
Zephyr was bringing him things, I could tell, but still, I watched him fight his growing hunger and disappointment each evening when he returned with dinner.
Then finally, finally, they served something promising. Meat for his poor, withering muscles. Even though we had had no contact for two weeks at that point, I knew it was Raven’s doing. A little gift for her younger sister.
I watched him eat in silence, and then I couldn’t resist insisting I wasn’t hungry, and that he should have the second bowl. Hunger has never felt so satisfying.
“Well, it was Karu."
His face falls as color drains, his skin turning the shade of the moon. My lips tug, but I resist the urge to say anything more.
It’s his turn.
“There weren’t any cameras in the bedroom,” he says, his voice hollow. “There was no purpose in fucking you there other than me wanting to.”
Again, my face heats, though this time embarrassment isn’t the cause. I feel my nipples tingle at the admission, and my hips suddenly feel restless.
“Well, I liked it.”
He nods. “I know.”
“I found you breathtakingly handsome even before I met you.”
“Your eyes are so striking, I almost broke character when I saw you in the sunlight.”
My smile falls as the urge to close my eyes comes over me. As if hiding them will somehow make him forget their demonic glow.
“I remember thinking you looked like an angel,” Sawyer says, his voice softer like he can read my mind. I tilt my head and wait for him to go on.
“I knew almost immediately that you were independent. Smart. And unsettlingly intuitive. I had a very good feeling you were seeing right through me.”
“Well.” I raise my shoulders. “Those who create the game know the rules. I knew who you were, why you were here, what you—”
“I still get that feeling,” he says, his voice low. Soft. Serious.
My shoulders fall into place. All I can do is stare into Sawyer’s eyes, as mesmerizing as the day I met him.
I remember it all so clearly, but somehow, it doesn’t feel real. Like it couldn’t have happened the way it did because there’s no way I could ever hide the feelings he gives me. I could never hide from him again.
“Any more secrets?” I whisper, though I know the list is endless. And meaningless. And frankly, unwanted.
Instead of answering, he takes my face in his hands and kisses me, softly this time. One gentle caress of his lips before he pulls back and looks me in the eyes. “No more secrets.”
My heart swells so big it feels like it pushes into my throat. I place my cold hands over his just to feel his warmth.
No more secrets.
I don’t say it aloud, but I pledge it to myself. And I mean it. Right now, right here, I mean it.
“Now let’s go back to my room,” Sawyer says, lips curving. “There’s something I want to show you.”