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“The flame that ignites within my chest….” I say thoughtfully. “Those could be awesome lyrics.”
“Really?” he arches an eyebrow, his expression morphing into a slight frown. “Here I am, baring my soul to you, and you’re going on about songwriting. Only you, a mad bird, would think something like that!”
I grin wide. “Music is in our souls. At least a little birdie once told me,” obviously, I’m referring to his words. “Music is our passion, but love is what we have for each other.”
His eyes open up, and his smile goes wide.
“Is that what we have? Love?”
“That’s as sure as fuck what I have for you.”
He reaches up, and his hand moves to take a possessive hold of my jaw, his thumb tracing the full curve of my lips.
“I’ve definitely fallen under your spell and find that I have no desire to break free from it. Whatever witchery you’ve done to me, just keep on doing it because I want to love you forever just like this.”
“Kiss me, for fuck’s sake, Jagger.”
His hand slides to the back of my head, pulling me down and wasting no time, I crash my lips onto his, and I feel like I am coming unwound. The sound of pleasure we both make vibrates from his chest to mine and weakens my limbs.
I’m about to explode from this kiss alone, and when he pushes his tongue through, I moan a breathy sound that goes down to his cock because it twitches against me with approval. He forces his tongue deeper, dominating my mouth, taking what he wants.
Jagger slowly pulls away and brushes a chunk of my hair away from my face.
“You are so beautiful,” he says quietly.
“I think you are too,” I counter.
He raises a brow, “Beautiful?”
“Men can be beautiful.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “As Ken in Barbie’s world.”
His eyes dart over my shoulder, and abruptly throws me off him. The move is so fast I hardly am able to say anything except gasp in surprise.
He sits up to look closer at my ceiling. His eyes are fixed on it, and I have no idea what he’s doing.
“Earth to Jagger. Babe with tits and pussy need your attention.”
Instead of focusing back on me, he grabs the bedsheet and covers me with it, shoving me to the side and standing up on the mattress.
“Whatttt?” My confusion is suddenly interrupted as I watch him lean up towards the light fixture.
“Get dressed and call Rick up to your bedroom.” Jagger pulls out a tiny device, and my stomach quickly feels like a rock has been lodged in it. I pull the sheet up close to my neck, feeling suddenly exposed.
“Is that a—”
“Yes,” he says, interrupting me. “Get the fuck dressed, Eden.”
Jagger clenches the small camera device tightly in his hand, his brows narrowed and lips drawn into a straight line. The intensity in his gaze speaks volumes, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this livid before. Rather than stick around, I hop off the bed, grab the sheet with me, open the drawer, grab a pair of panties, bra, and an oversized T-shirt, and quickly scramble to the bathroom and close the door.
Leaning against it, I close my eyes, allowing the fear to slowly unwind with the admission.
He’s back.
And there isn’t a security measure in hell that will prevent him from getting to me.
Taking Storm was his way of making a point.
