Page 46 of Push My Buttons
Footsteps again—heavier this time. More measured. Jace. I stay perfectly still, not ready to be found again so quickly.
But he knows this environment as well as I do. He checks corners, sightlines, possible hiding spots with methodical precision. And then he's there, standing at the entrance to my alcove, his silhouette blocking what little light filters through.
"Found you," he says quietly, and something in his voice makes me pause. There's a new quality to it—a certainty, an awareness that wasn't there before. He knows.
I don't give him time to speak further. I push off from the wall and close the distance between us, my hands finding his chest, sliding up to his shoulders. I can feel his surprise in the sudden tension of his muscles, hear it in the sharp intake of his breath.
Before he can say whatever he was about to say—before he can shatter the fantasy with reality—I press my body against his. My fingers find the clasps of his mask where it covers his mouth, releasing them. The lower half swings open, revealing his lips, his jaw, the slight stubble on his chin.
Jace. It's definitely Jace. The same mouth I've watched form careful words at the café counter. The same jaw that tightens when he's thinking hard.
I push aside my own mask just enough to expose my mouth, the chains tickling my chin as they shift. Then I'm kissing him, swallowing whatever words he was about to say with my lips, my tongue, my silent demand.
He freezes for a heartbeat, clearly shocked by my boldness. Then something breaks loose in him. His arms wrap around me, pulling me tighter against him as he takes control of the kiss. It's not gentle. It's not careful. It's hungry and desperate and exactly what I need right now.
His hands find the harness straps across my back, using them to guide me backward until I hit a wall. The impact forces a soft gasp from my lips, which he captures with his own. One of his hands slides down to grip my thigh, hitching it up around his waist. The position presses his hard cock directly against my core, making me arch into him.
"I know it's you," he whispers against my mouth, his voice rough with desire. "I know exactly who you are."
The words should terrify me. Should make me pull away, end the game, run from the truth. But they don't. Instead, they fuel something wild and reckless inside me. Because he knows, and he still wants me. Still kisses me like I'm air and he's drowning.
"Who am I, then?" I mouth against his lips, knowing he can feel the words even if he can't hear them.
Whether he understands my words or not, his hand comes up to cradle my face, thumb brushing across my cheekbone just below the edge of my mask. "You're everything," he says simply. "All of you. Every version."
The sincerity in his voice undoes something in me—some final defense I didn't even know I was maintaining. I kiss him again, deeper this time, trying to pour everything I can't say into the contact.
He responds in kind, his body pressing mine harder against the wall, his arousal pressed harder against me. His hand slides from my face down my neck, tracing the harness straps until he reaches another patch—this one positioned over my heart. He detaches it slowly, his eyes never leaving mine as he reveals another piece of me.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, bending to press his lips to the newly exposed skin. The contact makes me shiver, my head falling back against the wall.
"I knew I'd find you eventually," another voice says from somewhere to our left. "I just didn't expect company when I did."
Theo. He's found us, standing at the entrance to the narrow passage, his posture radiating something between amusement and arousal.
Jace tenses against me, but doesn't pull away. Instead, he turns slightly, keeping one arm firmly around my waist. "NeedleAndVice," he acknowledges, voice carefully neutral.
"ObsidianWolf," Theo replies, taking a step closer. "Quite the cozy scene I've interrupted."
"Not interrupted," Jace corrects. "Joined."
The words hang in the air between us, charged with possibility. I can't deny the thrill that courses through me at the thought of both of them, here, now.
I look from one to the other, heart pounding so hard I feel it in my throat. I want to move. To speak. To do something. But I’m frozen—trapped in this moment between them, between what we were and what we’re about to become.
Theo takes another step into the alcove. “I say we stop pretending this is just a game,” he says, voice low and dark. “Don’t you?”
Jace doesn't release me. And I don’t run.
I breathe them in—their heat, their tension, the sharp edge of something that feels like surrender and chaos all at once.
I might’ve designed this fantasy.
But I never expected getting caught would feel this good.
Chapter 18
Wren
