Page 41 of Saviors

Was I going to do this?

The hallway looked familiar. This is where they’d brought me that night. I just couldn’t remember it all because I’d been drugged.

My chest tightened as the memories tried to push in. I forced them from my mind. I wouldn’t think about that. For this test to work, I couldn’t.

Shoving open the first door, I grasped for my courage. I wasn’t sure who I’d been hoping to find. Reid, who cared for me. Connor, who’d held me through a panic attack. Maverick, who made me feel protected.

My heart hammered in my chest when I saw all three of them. For the first time, I noticed how handsome they all were. Each one different, but sexy. The breath caught in my lungs as I stared.

Reid with his suit and tie. His dark hair that made his blue eyes appear brighter, almost as if he could see straight through me. Connor with a lock of blonde hair falling over his forehead and a leaner body in casual clothes. His hazel eyes skimming across my skin, making me feel something I couldn’t identify. Then there was Maverick, who was shirtless, again. Sweat dripped down his thick tan muscles. His gray eyes danced with an insanity, but it was somehow still inviting.

They were gorgeous. The only men I felt at ease with. If I was going to do this, it had to be with them. But would they want me?

“One of you kiss me.” I demanded breathlessly before whatever manic energy that gave me this idea disappeared.

“What?” Maverick’s head jerked back. The air in the room changed. Their hesitation and refusals hung in it.

I rushed to Connor because he was the closest. I wasn’t thinking. I couldn’t think. If I did, I wouldn’t do this.

I’d talk myself out of this bold move. And this might be my only chance. The one time I was crazy enough to say it.

I could feel the desperation in my expression as I looked up at him. “Kiss me.”

“Violet.” I heard the warning in Reid’s tone as he spoke from behind us.

“Please.” I begged Connor, focusing on him. “I need to know if I can do this. He can’t take this away from me. I don’t want him to be the last person who kissed me.” My hands landed on his chest as I leaned into him, but my voice cracked. “Please, I don’t want to be broken.”

His hazel gaze softened as he grasped my cheeks. I sighed as he pushed a piece of hair from my face. “You’re not broken, little bloom.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he slid his palm to the nape of my neck. Pulling me closer. And in a breath, he fused our lips together. His kiss was firm. Insistent.

I waited to feel disgust. Fear. Panic.

But all I felt were the sparks under my skin colliding. Forming a giant ball of energy that desperately wanted to be released.

The lust burned my body. Flowed through my veins. Consumed me.

My lips parted eagerly. My fingers curled into his shirt as his tongue glided along mine. He kissed me long and deep. Touching parts of me I hadn’t even known were broken. But instead of hurting, he healed me.

With one kiss, I felt myself getting better. The fragmented memories disappeared, replaced with thoughts of Connor.

Wondering what his mouth could do to me in other places. What my name would sound like from his lips. How it would feel to be with him.

I whimpered as he dropped an arm, gripping my hip. He took the kiss deeper as he lifted me. My legs wrapped instinctively around his waist. My hands grabbed his shoulders for support.

Our centers lined up and I could feel what I was doing to him. He groaned as I held him tighter. The sound left me craving more.

I was so lost in this moment. The rest of the world fading away. I didn’t notice the warm body behind me until their hand smoothed over the curve of my ass. I gasped, and Connor swallowed it.

Once again, I waited for the rush of fear. For flashbacks. That’s what I predicted would happen. But they never came.

Maybe because Simon had drugged me. All I had were snippets. A burst of pain. A muffled cry. A grunt. Blood. Handcuffs. They flickered through my mind, but I couldn’t grasp onto any of them.

Especially not now when all I felt was excitement. Pleasure. It was the first time in months, years, where I’d felt anything good.

My body tingled as the person behind me skimmed their hands under my dress. His warm fingertips slid down my thighs. My muscles tightened with desire. My breathing became harsh. His fingers slipped under my panties.

I moaned and rocked my hips. Then I stilled. Was this really happening? Were they both touching me? Why did this seem right? Why weren’t they jealous?

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