Page 30 of The Omega Verse
“Okay. There should be some biscotti biscuits in the ANZAC tin if Tom hasn’t eaten them all.”
The sound of a motorbike cutting down the beach path sends Kobi back to the door, although he pauses with his hand on the knob and looks at me. “Will you be okay if I go check in with Jett?”
Jesus, this is all kinds of awkward. A part of me wants to make a crack that I’m not taking attendance, but I can’t stop myself from saying, “For now. But don’t go too far.”
He nods, those pink lips curling inside his beard, and I flush all over. But Silva doesn’t let the moment go on for too long, stepping between us and running a finger down the middle of my hoodie. “Time for round two?”
I try to play it cool, but I’m already tingling so much I can barely feel my toes. He’s back in his sweats and flannel shirt, and I struggle to bite back the next whine building in my throat. “Maybe I should just go in there and sleep.”
“Then I’ll rub your back until you do.” Silva swipes his tongue across his bottom lip, hitting me with all his green-eyed smoulder. “Drummers have to be well-oiled machines, so I know a thing or two about loosening up your muscles.”
“Oh God,” I mutter, giving up any pretence at resistance. I fling my arms around his neck and he breathes me in, his hands already massaging my spine. “Then take me to bed, Silva.”
He gives a throaty chuckle before casting a glance Tom’s way. “You gonna join us, big guy?”
I don’t know what Tom’s reaction is, because Silva is already backing me towards the bedroom, his lips pressed to mine. I fall into the kiss, his eager tongue licking into my mouth. I don’t know if it’s the heat, or that little piercing, but Silva has a way of taking me from a simmer to a red-hot boil in moments.
His lips smile against mine as there’s a thud behind us and Tom closes the door. The room is larger than the one on the bus, but it’s all bed, and with two big guys there’s not really anywhere else to go but down.
Poor me, I think with a smirk as I eye the king-sized mattress. I visit Tom’s place plenty, but sleepovers are always platonic, with me crashing on the sofa bed or in a hammock on the deck. I’ve poked my nose in here before, but I’ve never got close enough to run my fingers over the soft cotton comforter. It smells like Tom, but his usual musky edge is stronger, and I have to bite back another moan.
It also puts a frown on my face, and Tom tilts my chin up, a cautious light in his brown eyes. “What is it, Cass?”
“It doesn’t smell like me.” I bite my lip, wincing now the words are out. “Jesus, I can’t believe my brain is wired to care about this stuff.”
“Nests aren’t just about aesthetics,” he tells me. “A lot of it’s instinct. If it doesn’t smell right in here, we can work something else out.”
“No, I like it. A lot.” In fact, if he suggests a change of venue, I’ll probably wrestle him to the floor. “Maybe we could just add… the blankets from the bus?”
Ugh. It’d be a saintly guy who lets a girl drag last night’s orgy into his domain, but Tom doesn’t even blink. “Good idea.”
I glance back down at Tom’s orderly bed. Given his career choices, it’s all hospital corners and freshly starched pillows, and I wonder how he really feels. “You sure?”
“Cass, I’m doing my best not to rip that blanket off you right now and rub my face in it.”
I gulp, liking that a lot. And it must be written all over my face, because Silva shoots me a filthy wink. “I’ll grab them while you two get comfortable.”
He drops a kiss on my forehead and is out the door before I can complain. Something about his disappearing on me doesn’t sit right with my stomach, but I try to ignore it as Tom steps closer to me. “Anything else you need, Cass?”
I eye his shirt. It’s a dark green Henley, and the stretch across his muscles is obscenely good. “Um. Speaking of rubbing your face in things, can you give me that?”
“I can…” He stretches the word out, and I hold my breath. “But I’d like it if you did that while I’m still wearing it.”
I look up at him through hooded lids, the scent of him filling my lungs. Yes, while he’s wearing it would be amazing.
I drop my gaze to the neck of his Henley, and the tanned skin of his throat. It’s still a long way up, and he smirks as he turns and sits on the edge of the bed, bracing himself on his arms. Perfect! Without a second thought, I climb onto his lap, chasing that strip of skin with the dark curls peeking out.
He smells even better up close. The musk is stronger, and I feel almost giddy when I breathe it in. The whine that’s been building in my throat tears free and he grunts as I run my nose from his collar down over his pec. I can feel the hard nub of his nipple under the thin fabric and I nuzzle it, sucking it into my mouth. Fuck, he tastes good. I lick and bite, obsessed with the way his head falls back, exposing his throat. I stare at the thick column of muscle, but then I catch a whiff of a muskier scent and I nuzzle my way over to his armpit. The hair here is thicker, and while he smells of deodorant, it’s something citrusy that just adds to his flavour. I groan as I lick at it through his shirt, my thighs clenching tight around his hips. I’m rocking on him, grinding against him, and I don’t stop until he eases me back.
“Good girl,” he huffs, effortlessly flipping that praise trigger I never knew I had. “That was perfect, Cass.”
“And now do I get my reward?” I can’t believe that husky voice is mine, but Tom doesn’t hesitate, doing that guy thing of reaching back and pulling his shirt over his head like he’s unveiling a work of art. Which, of course, he is, because a shirtless Tom Bush could sell tickets.
“I want you to drink some tea before we do anything else,” he tells me, and I snap out of my haze to take the cup River has passed through the door. Camomile steam curls around my head and Tom watches while I take a couple of sips. I know he’s worried about dehydration, but I’ve definitely got other things on my mind, and I breathe a sigh of relief when he finally sets it aside.
But when he glances at the door, I cup his face, turning him back my way. “Don’t make me wait, Tom. I want you now.”
He nods, but drags a finger over my pouting bottom lip. “I don’t plan on rushing this. I want to taste every inch of you before I claim you.”