Page 50

"Thanks."

I pick my way over. Hesitating, I glance between the recliner in the corner and the other end of the couch where Sergio is parked. As if he can sense my dilemma, he scoots over a little, leaving a nice open spot. He grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and unfolds it, holding it out.

Well, that's definitely too much to resist. I smile gratefully and settle in opposite him. An entire couch cushion separates us. Somehow, it's both too much space and not enough.

"C'mere." He motions for me to come closer. I look at him, confused, until he reaches into my space and pats my knees, then makes another gesture, beckoning me to swing around.

Oh. I put my back to the arm of the sofa and stretch my legs out in his direction. Firmly, he takes my feet and places them on his lap. He spreads the blanket out over my lower half, and just like that, I'm cocooned in warmth.

"Comfy?"

"Yeah. Perfect."

He smiles, squeezing my ankle, then turns his attention back to his book.

Something antsy and anxious inside me smooths over. I breathe out a deep exhalation, and the tension in my shoulders bleeds away. I open my novel and relax for real for the first time in days—maybe months.

Sergio's been a bit of a mystery since I met him, but as we settle into an easy, companionable silence, it's easy to forget that we're basically strangers. He rubs my ankles and shins through the blanket, and his thighs are warm beneath my feet. But otherthan that casual, intimate contact, we're just two people reading together.

And it's…nice.

For all that I thought Richard could be 'the one', we never had easy, quiet moments like this. He always wanted to be doing something, be it having sex or going out places I could barely afford or watching high definition movies on his state of the art entertainment center.

This is better. Much, much more my speed.

Thankfully, the book I brought is fairly fluffy, because it only gets about half of my attention. Sergio's face in the flickering firelight is even more beautiful than I realized. He keeps his gaze on the slowly turning pages in front of him, leaving me free to study him in more detail.

His dark, silky hair shines in the warm glow. He has those masculine brows and deep eyes, a fine, aquiline nose, and full, sultry lips. In profile the way he is, I can't see the scarring that I know graces half of his cheek on the other side. Without it, he looks younger. More at peace.

The dark scruff of his stubble just makes his deep tan skin look all the more smooth and touchable, and part of me wants to do just that—touch.

But do I really need to? I've been passed around between the men of this house enough in the past few days. I've had so much sex, I'm sore. I never really imagined that a person could have too much of such an incredibly good thing, but I'm appreciating the break, honestly.

Am I leaving him out, though? I said at the beginning of this that I didn't want to cause any conflict among this band of brothers, only—what if I am, and I just don't know it yet?

Finally, I can't hold it in any more. "Aren't you going to try to fuck me or something?"

The only sign that he's so much as heard is a subtle flick upward of his brows. I instantly feel silly. Jeez, what a thing to blurt out there. But that's what I did. And there's no taking it back now.

Carefully, he places a bookmark between the pages of his book, then sets it aside. He turns to me, and the full power of his stare pins me in place.

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

Well, when he puts it like that… I lick my lips. For a second, I indulge the fantasy. I imagine pulling him on top of me, wrapping ourselves up in these blankets and stripping down. Exploring every inch of his rich, deep skin with my hands and mouth until he took me slowly, powerfully in front of the crackling fire.

My pussy throbs.

But not one hundred percent in the good way. I swallow hard.

"Like, existentially, or right this second?"

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "Whichever."

"In theory, hell yes." And maybe that's too much to admit, but what's the point in pretending? I've already been invited to a long-term orgy with these people. There can't be much harm in admitting that I think this last member of the team is incredibly sexy. "Right this second? Not particularly." I wince. "Sorry."

He shrugs. "Then, no. Right this second, I'm not going to try to fuck you."

"But some other time?" A hint of insecurity makes my voice waver, because I hadn't fully considered that part of the equation, had I? Jax and Cayden had both assured me that everyone was into it, and Sergio himself has given me enough heated stares to make me assume he'd want to do the deed with me at some point. But he's kept his distance so far. Maybe that's a sign.