Page 26 of Point Blank

Serena hadn’t said a word to him that day. But every time Angelo and Sebastian got together after that, he was deemed the babysitter. Not that he’d cared. He preferred being with Serena to hanging out with the friends he’d always been different from. A bond had grown between Serena and him—hell, even between Dani and him, but Dani had always been wilder than her sister. When Serena turned sixteen, her face changed almost overnight: her cheekbones became shapelier, her lips fuller . . . a lot of other places became fuller, too. He hadn’t had to “babysit” her for years by that point, but they still spent almost every day together—half the time stealing for her uncle and his dad, but they were smart enough to take a cut for themselves and plan their own jobs.

He closed his eyes and forced the past from his mind. This was exactly what he hadn’t wanted when he laid eyes on her at Alban’s and then at Tasha’s bar. Reliving his past. Yet here he was, unable to think of anything except the history the two of them had. Falling asleep wasn’t an option. Not while her fingers were curled into the neckline of his shirt, not when her breasts were snuggled against his side and her knee was wrapped over his thigh.

He gently cupped the back of her neck. Her soft, silky skin branded his fingertips. He shouldn’t be turned on right now, given the dire circumstances. He and Serena had never even had sex. He’d licked, touched, and sucked on every part of her, but before their relationship could go to the next level, her uncle had ratted out his dad and brought everything to a screeching halt.

The burn for Serena ran long and deep and hadn’t lessened at all over the years. His dick stood like a steel rod in his jeans, his lips tingled remembering the hot cavern of her mouth—from two fucking years ago at Alban’s—and if he slid his hand down it would fit perfectly over her heart-shaped ass.

“Mmm.” She shifted against him, thrusting her pelvis closer to his thigh.

Jesus.

He turned his head so he could stare at the ceiling. His phone was stuck in his back pocket, so he couldn’t check the time. The last thing he wanted to do was fall asleep and wake up eight hours later, but Serena needed sleep and he sure as hell didn’t want to jostle her awake. He pulled the covers over her shoulder and closed his eyes. He’d rest a few minutes . . .

Buzz, buzz, buzz

The gentle vibration on his ass cheek jerked his eyes open. Serena lay plastered against him, her arm now looped around his neck and her knee so far across his thigh that the lower half of her body straddled him. He eased out from under her, letting her cheek slide to the pillow beneath his shoulder. She didn’t stir.

He pushed off the bed and fished his phone from his pocket. The first thing he checked was the time: 4:30 a.m. Damn, he’d slept more than two hours. Serena let out a deep sigh, and he backed out of the room and made his way to the main-floor office.

The house had way more space than he needed, but when it had come up as a foreclosure, he couldn’t resist the investment.

He dropped into the office chair and opened the message on his screen.

Rhett.

Dude, I hope you’ve given it some thought. Let me know where you’re sitting and I can contact some trustworthy uniforms.

Shit. He trusted Rhett, but couldn’t put his friend in a tough position. Now that they had agreed to steal from Titus, the rules had changed. He’d taken his newly polished record and traded it in for a criminal’s.

Again.

No. He’d only involve Rhett if it came down to it, and for right now, Milo had things under control. But if they wanted to rescue Dani unscathed, they’d need backup. They’d need at least one other person to be on lookout. Because he sure as hell wasn’t sending Serena into Titus’s den alone. There was only one person he could think of who was qualified to help. He was dangerous, a bit of an asshole . . . and Dani’s worst enemy.

He scrolled through his contacts, selected the name of a person he hadn’t talked to in years, and hit Call.

Serena was going to kill him.

Serena stretched her arms above her head and yawned. The chilly air outside the blankets made her tuck her limbs back into hibernation. Her cheek sunk into soft material, threatening to lull her back to sleep.

No, can’t sleep . . .

She frowned. Why the hell couldn’t she sleep? She forced her eyes open, and the sight of the unfamiliar masculine bedroom shot her into a sitting position.

Dani!

How long had she slept? No light shone through the blinds, so it was still night. She felt rested, though. God, that better not mean she’d wasted too many precious hours. She threw back the covers and charged out of the room. Where was her phone? And where was Milo?

She headed toward the glow of light on the main floor. Milo sat at an office desk, his hair disheveled, his T-shirt wrinkled, and his dark stubble much thicker than it had been the last time she’d noted it. She fished her fingers through the messy end of her ponytail.

“What time is it?”

“Almost five.”

She glared at him. “You were supposed to wake me.” Her tone held no venom, despite her annoyance. As much as she wanted to wring his neck for letting her sleep so long, she needed to get focusing on the heist.

Her gaze dropped to Milo’s caramel-colored coffee in a mug on the desk. Her mouth watered.

Milo stood. “Here, have a look at these blueprints. The kidnapper just sent them. I’ll fix you a coffee.”