“Stupid fuckers,”" Coot muttered as he gracefully stood up and stepped toward me. He didn’t stop until he was close enough to thread an arm between me and the door, only leaving an inch of space between us. Breath feathering against my lips from his as he tipped my chin up with his free hand, Coot scrambled my brain further. “The way I see it, you have three options. Go home and leave the bar to me and Ares, go back out there and get shit faced while we keep you company, or you can let us make you forget about your problems for a bit and then decide what you want to do.”
“I don't want to cause problems,” I whispered, feeling my will to leave desert me.
His fingers released my chin to trail across my jaw and around to the nape of my neck until they threaded through my hair, where they settled, cradling the back of my head and anchoring me in place. “You let us worry about any fallout, not that I think there would be any if you choose to be with us. The four of us… We have an understanding, if you will. So what'll it be, Severine?”
A shiver coursed through me at his use of my name. His expression was dead set on mine, urging me to make a decision, though I didn't feel pressured in the least.
Throwing caution to the wind, tired of wishing I could have what others did, act like others did, I gave him my answer. “The third one.”
“Good girl, Sevey,” Jesse intoned, less than an arm’s length from my side. Intent as I’d been on Coot, I hadn’t seen the deadly man move. I nearly gulped with the nerves that wracked me when I met his stare and saw the intense intent written there. What the hell did I just agree to?
While I was busy trying to decide if I’d gotten myself in over my head, Coot closed the space between us, pressing his chest to mine and fusing lips, puffy from the blow job he’d been giving, to mine. That was all it took for the barrier I’d held firm to crumble. My pussy was already waving the white flag of surrender, opening the gates like it’d been under siege all this time or some shit.