Page 60 of The Omega Verse

“Yeah, we’re watching the surfing. Or, I’m watching the surfing, and he’s chasing the seagulls.”

“Cool. Can you meet me at Tom’s in half an hour? He’s on day shift, so he should be finished by five. Maybe we could barbecue on the beach tonight?”

“Sounds good,” he purrs, and Banjo gives a happy bark. “See you soon, sugar.”

I ring off, and grabbing a bakery box, fill it with a selection of our sweetest, creamiest pastries, then collect my bag and keys. I cast another glance at the door to my apartment, but I can’t face that right now, so I lock up and drive out to the shack, The Scare Crew playing on the stereo the whole way. I swear I can feel Silva’s energy reaching out and electrifying me, my blood fizzing with excitement by the time I pull up at Tom’s.

As soon as I let myself in, I make a beeline for his bedroom. I take a moment to get the Scare Crew playing on his portable speaker, and then pull the bedding back to just the fitted sheet. It’s a dark moss green that perfectly suits my mate – while also working nicely with my skin tone - and I’m smiling as I strip my clothes off and open the bakery box.

I pause with my hand on a lobster tail. My nerves rear up, threatening to derail my plan, but then I remind myself this is Silva. He loves crazy shit.

I only have to wait five minutes before I hear Banjo’s excited bark. It grows fainter as he heads off towards the beach, no doubt to sniff out all his favourite spots, and then I hear the front door close. I don’t have to tell Silva where I am; his drums are pounding from the speaker by the bed. All I have to do is stop my heart from pounding out of my chest and wait for him to find me.

“You in here, sugar? Fucking hell…” Silva swings around the door frame, a huge grin spreading across his face as he takes me in.

I grin back, wriggling fingers smeared with cream while doing my best not to jostle the pastries. I’ve positioned them over the parts of my body he seems to like best, with a swirl of chocolate cream painted around my belly button.

“You said you wanted to spread me out and eat me like dessert…”

The flirty words dry up in my throat as River steps into the room behind Silva.

Mio Dio, as Cookie would say.

I’m not sure who looks more shocked as I freeze against the bed, watching River’s startled gaze begin at my toes and work up to my flaming cheeks. His wide eyes are like a caress as they settle on the drumsticks necklace nestled between my breasts. So much for a romantic first date, I think, expecting him to make an abrupt exit, but instead he walks to the end of the bed and gives me a wicked grin. “Is there enough for two?”

I’m pretty sure I swallow my tongue at that point, but he leans over and lifts the lid of the bakery box, smirking at the number of pastries I jammed inside. “I doubt even Silva could eat all this sugar on his own.”

Silva chuckles, a filthy sound I can feel in my core. Reaching out, he drags a finger through the chocolate swirl on my belly. “I don’t mind sharing my tasting plate.” He hums as he sucks it clean. “That okay with you, sugar?”

I nod my head, careful not to send the pastries flying. “There’s plenty for River if he wants them.”

The guys exchange a look and then they’re both kicking off their boots and stripping off their shirts. My gaze bounces between Silva’s tanned muscle and River’s paler, leaner chest. He’s thinner than he should be for his build, but there’s something beautiful about his hard angles and deep hollows. Grief has driven away his appetite, but I can see a hunger in his eyes as his fingers circle my brother’s mating bite on his chest. When he gives his nipple a pinch, I feel my mouth water. “Which ones are your favourite, Silva?”

Silva cups the side of my breast, his fingers brushing the top of the pastry I’ve balanced there. “Definitely her doughnuts. What are they called again?”

I whimper as he rubs the pastry against my nipple. “Bomboloni.”

“Mm. You sound as good as you look.” He leans down and kisses me, his tongue twirling against my own. “Too damn delicious for words.”

I swallow hard, his cherry flavour filling my mouth. But it’s the feel of their hungry gazes on my flesh that makes me squirm. “Then why don’t you stop talking, and start tasting?”

The guys both chuckle. “Oh, don’t worry. We’re going to make a real mess of ourselves.”

River trails his fingers down my arm as Silva squeezes the pastry and cool custard cream dribbles over my breast. “Oops. Guess I should clean this up before it gets on the nice clean sheet.”

I hold my breath as Silva bends and laps at the filling, his tongue dancing across my nipple. It’s barely a teasing brush, and I’d arch up into his mouth if I wasn’t balancing half a dozen pastries on my body.

When he pulls back, his lips are shining with cream. “What’s in the other one?”

I start to tell him, but he puts a hand over my mouth and wags a cream-coated finger in my face. “You’re the table, Cass. You’re just supposed to lie there and get laid.”

I groan at the bad joke, but River’s eyes are alive with mischief as he looks at Silva. “Shall we make a bet? Whoever guesses the right filling gets to choose the next pastry.”

I whimper, and Silva’s eyes dance over my body. “I’m always up for a game. I’ll guess more of the same.” He sticks his finger in his mouth and sucks it off, slow and filthy, all the while staring into my eyes. “Custard crème.”

My bones feel like they’re melting as I swing my gaze River’s way. He’s pressing a finger into the bomboloni and rocking it back and forth. “Feels thick to me,” he says. “And it’s something really sticky, like chocolate.”

“Pretty sure it’s cheating if you stick your finger in your dessert,” Silva says, but grins as River pulls it out. “Yum, Nutella. Creamy chocolate. Best of both worlds.”

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