Page 56 of Perfect Convergence

“Are you okay?”

“That’s the last thing I want to talk about right now, O.”

Understanding flickers over his features, along with something that looks uncomfortably like pity. It disappears quickly. He knows what’ll happen if he presses further, and it’s not what any of us want right now.

So I take his face in my hands, bringing my lips within an inch of his. For a moment, I hesitate, giving him a chance to pull away if he wants to. But he closes the distance instead.

With a groan, I hold his head still, devouring him. The faint tang of alcohol is mixed with Wren’s taste, and I swipe my tongue over his, trying to get more of it.

Oliver lets me ravage his mouth, turning pliant in my arms. I’ve missed him. I’ve been keeping my distance, not wanting to accidentally trigger him into another panic attack. Elliot and Wren are both more stable, and much more capable of helping him through one. The only thing I can do is try to get him to breathe deeply, and sometimes I freeze up before I can even do that.

But this? Kissing him—devouring him? That I can do. And it’s nice to have a couple seconds alone without feeling like I’m going to accidentally harm him.

Just as Oliver is about to turn into a literal puddle, a gust of cold air rushes in. I turn, looking behind me to find the door open. Wren is standing there, breathless from kissing Elliot. She’s staring at us with a look of enraptured awe on her pretty face.

“Get in, sweetheart, before you freeze.”

That seems to snap her out of her stupor. She climbs in, shutting the door behind her, before she exchanges a mischievous grin with Oliver.

What the hell is that about?

I release Oliver and run a hand over Wren’s hair. Then I wrap my hand around her throat. She watches me with a lidded gaze as a smile spreads over her face. Her head tilts back slightly, giving my hand more room.

I can’t help but chuckle to myself at what a mess she is. Her hair isn’t nearly as neat as it was when we left home, and the smear-proof lipstick Oliver put on her is definitely smudged a bit.

What I really care about, though, is that the tears that were in her eyes earlier are gone. Not that I won’t put more in them tonight. But those will be a different kind—the best kind.

“This is entirely unfair,” Elliot grouses from the driver’s seat. He’s turned on the car and is just beginning to pull out of our parking spot.

“You’ll get your turn,” I tell him, laughing when he glares at me in the rearview mirror.

Then I turn to Wren, only to find her with that fascinated look in her eyes again.

“What?”

“Your laugh,” she murmurs, tracing my face with her fingers. “It’s really nice.”

Fuck. I know I don’t laugh a lot. It just... doesn’t happen. But I didn’t realize this is the first time she’s seen it. I mean, I suppose she’s seen a chuckle or an amused look here and there, but—yeah. I think this really is the first time she’s seen it.

“Rhett,” she whispers, her gaze fixed on my mouth. “Can I kiss you?”

Gathering her up in my arms, I press my lips to hers. But then she’s squirming away, grabbing one of my arms and tugging it off of her. At first, I’m confused, but then she places my hand so it’s wrapped around her throat again.

I raise an eyebrow, expecting her to look away shyly, but she doesn’t.

“It makes me feel like I’m y-” She cuts herself off, then shakes her head like she’s trying to get a thought out of her head.

I barely have time to think about what she was about to say. She kisses me so desperately, so brazenly, it becomes the only thing I can focus on. She tastes sweet. So sweet.

When I squeeze her neck lightly, she moans, gripping my shoulders. It’s a similar reaction to the one Oliver has when I do that to him. As if on cue, I hear him groaning behind me.

After a few seconds, Wren pulls away, glancing at Oliver. “It’s his turn now.” She gives me one last peck.

Then I’m being tugged in the other direction, and I turn to face Oliver. He’s on me before I can make a comment about how these two are acting like they didn’t just fuck.

Just as I wrap my hand around Oliver’s throat, relishing in the groan that it rips from him, I feel a hand trailing up my thigh. Wren rubs my dick through my pants, and I find myself involuntarily grinding into her.

Then she leans down, pressing a kiss to my cock before licking the fabric above it.

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