“Marina,” he said seriously. “Let me make this clear. Nothing you could do would ever make us fight. Nothing. Not even the fact you and him had sex.”
He was so factual, so casually blunt. My face was a furnace, getting hotter by the second. “How do you know that?”
Jacob shrugged, smoothing his shirt as he spoke. “Kite told me. And it's fine.”
“It's fine?” I asked lamely. I was too shocked to feel angry at Kite for spilling the truth.
Those long fingers paused, hanging on the rim of his sleeve. “I would have preferred to have had my way with you first, but it doesn't matter.” In the shadows, his eyes were oddly bright. “I'll have my turn.”
My tongue was weighing me down. It would have been easier to talk without it.
He's telling me he's going to fuck me.
“And Kite doesn't have a problem with that?” I blurted out.
“Of course not.”
My whole face was red, my hands aching to hit, to scratch, to show him—both of them—that I wasn't a fucking taxi for everyone to ride.
Did they really not care who slept with me? Was sex such a casual, nostrings thing for these men?
Before I could say a word, he spoke first. “I missed you, Marina.” Lifting his eyes, Jacob was pure, raw emotion. I didn't know what to do with this, he had me stumbling to keep up. “The days I was gone, I thought of you constantly. When I slept, when I woke, you ran circles through my mind.”
My throat felt too small for the wall of air that begged to burst out. “You missed me,” I said, “But you just told me you're willing to give me away to Kite.”
His dark brows lowered. I didn't see his hands move, but I felt them like fresh embers on my cheeks. He had me, he fucking had me.
“Marina.” His voice was shredded. It sent thorns into my lungs, made my breathing ragged with holes. “It's not giving you away! I'm telling you, I want you bad enough that I'm willing to share you. To be able to reach you—even this much—is worth any struggle, any consequences.”
He was going to kiss me.
I knew, if I let him, this would be over. I'd forget everything and never say my piece.
He wanted to be with me, even while letting Kite do the same? What was I supposed to do with this information?
He wants you, a small voice whispered. Isn't that enough? Who cares if he's fine with passing you back and forth between another man?
I cared. Me.
“Tell me why,” I croaked. My mouth was barren. “Why would you do this, share me with your friend? How can you be so sure it won't tear you two apart?” And me, was my unsaid final thought.
Nothing shimmered in his gaze but liquid fury and desire. Jacob was letting down his calculating walls, and I was terrified to see what lay behind them.
“I'll tell you this much, Marina. You should know, it's your right to understand.” He refocused on me, gripping my cheeks harder. “Kite and I have an oath. A bond that goes deeper than our blood. Because of it, to keep us from ever harming each other, we have a strict rule.”
My brain, already a coiled mess, struggled to absorb this.
“The rule,” he went on, “Is that we must share everything.” His smile wasn't sad, but thoughtful. “That includes you, Marina Fidel. If either of us wants you, if we both crave you, then this is our only option.”
When had I last blinked? “Say it plainly, Jacob.”
“It's both of us.” His thumb trailed over my lips. “Or neither of us.”
Frozen in his grip, I trembled with a new burst of desire. My reaction blurred the lines between being offended and being turned on. Kite and Jacob, together? It was perverse and... intoxicating.
No, stop it, I told myself weakly. Don't think about it.
Right. I shouldn't think about Kite's hot mouth, or Jacob's skilled hands. Their firm bodies, their warmth and their warring, raging erections that wanted me.
Did I want them?
I didn't—or I shouldn't.
Sitting there with Jacob's palms cupping my jaw, I searched his eyes for any hint that he was lying. That this was just a game.
He was as steady as a winter mountain.
Running would have been logical. Slapping him across the face? Understandable. Anything that let me break free would have made perfect sense.
But I'm not perfect. Or sensible.
Leaning forward, I pressed my lips on Jacob's and shivered. It was a soft kiss, a whisper among all the shrieks in my skull. You're a fool, I told myself.
And I knew I was right.
How awful it felt to be right.
His fingertips crept along my flesh, curling against my temples like he wanted to drill into my brain. He was latched on, mouth spreading open to swallow me whole.
Before he could take it beyond a simple kiss—and I could tell he wanted to—I put my hands on his wrists and leaned away. My frantic gasp filled the car. “Wait,” I panted. “I need time to think about all of this.”