Page 47 of Push My Buttons
Theotakesanotherstepcloser, his gaze shifting between us. The energy in the narrow space changes, becoming charged with possibility. I can feel the heat radiating from both men, the tension vibrating between them.
"I count three patches for me so far," Theo says, his voice dropping lower. "How many have you claimed, Wolf?"
"Just two," Jace admits, his thumb tracing circles on my exposed skin. "But I think we both know this isn't really about collecting patches anymore."
Something passes between them—an understanding, a decision made without words. Theo moves closer until he's standing directly behind me, creating a warm wall at my back while Jace remains pressed against my front.
"I think," Theo murmurs, his breath warm against my neck, "that some prizes are worth more than winning a game."
His hands settle on my hips, fingers slipping beneath the harness straps. I'm surrounded, caught between them, and it's exactly where I want to be. My body thrums with anticipation, with need so intense it's almost painful.
Jace's eyes find mine, questioning. "Is this okay?" he asks softly. "Do you want this?"
I nod, the movement emphatic, leaving no room for doubt. I want this. I want them. Both of them, here, now.
"Use the lights if you need to," Theo reminds me, his lips brushing against my shoulder. "Green for go, yellow to slow down—"
"Red to stop," Jace finishes. "We'll watch for it."
Their concern touches something deep inside me. Even in this moment of raw desire, they're making sure I'm comfortable, that I'm in control. I reach up and press the button on my harness strap, making the light glow bright green.
Theo chuckles against my skin. "Message received, loud and clear."
His hands become more insistent, sliding up my sides until they brush the undersides of my breasts. At the same time, Jace leans in to reclaim my mouth, his kiss deep and searching. I'm caught in a perfect storm of sensation—Theo's hands exploring my body from behind, Jace's mouth demanding against mine.
"I think," Jace says between kisses, "that NeedleAndVice has earned the right to claim his prize. He's collected the most patches, after all."
Theo's hands pause in their exploration. "Are you conceding, Wolf?"
"Let's call it... recognizing when someone deserves a reward," Jace replies, his eyes never leaving mine. There's something in his gaze—knowledge, understanding, a promise for later.
"Well," Theo says, and I can hear the smile in his voice, "I won't turn down a victory, however it comes."
His hands move to the clasp of my mask, fingers gentle as they find the hidden mechanism. "May I?" he asks, and the reverence in his voice makes my heart stutter.
I hesitate, just for a moment. Once the mask comes off, there's no going back. The fantasy ends. Reality begins. But maybe that's exactly what I need.
I nod, giving permission.
Theo unfastens the mask slowly, carefully, as if unwrapping something infinitely precious. I feel the weight lift from my face, the cool air against my skin as he removes it completely. The wig comes with it, attached to the elaborate design, leaving my pink hair to fall free around my face.
There's a moment of silence, of stillness, as Theo processes what he's seeing. Who he's seeing.
"Wren?" he whispers, his voice filled with wonder and confusion. "You're... you're Vanta?"
I turn in their embrace to face him fully, no longer hiding behind chains or crystals or careful anonymity. I watch the realization dawn in his eyes—the pieces clicking into place just as they did for Jace earlier.
"And Silence," Jace adds quietly. "She's Silence too."
Theo's eyes widen further, darting between us. "You knew?"
"I figured it out during the hunt," Jace admits. "The way she moves, the tactics she used... it all made sense suddenly."
I wait for shock, for disappointment, for the inevitable questions about why. Instead, Theo's expression shifts into something like awe.
"Three women," he says softly. "The barista who never speaks. The sniper who saves our asses in the game. The cam girl who drives me crazy without saying a word." His hand comes up to cup my face, thumb tracing my lower lip. "And they're all you."
The acceptance in his voice, the wonder rather than judgment, makes something break open inside me. I lean into his touch, my eyes closing briefly as relief washes through me.
