He knew the others thought he was moving too fast, but when a man knew the worst in life, he recognized the best when he saw it. When he had been with hundreds, maybe more, with nothing working for him, he wasn’t about to throw away a miracle when someone walked in and handed it all to him.
He pulled back and regarded her with his blue eyes—those blue eyes that tempted so easily. He stayed focused on her, not because she was his mark but because he was fascinated by everything she did. Every gesture. Every expression. The way her fingers folded the material of her dress between them. The way she brought the glass to her lips and sipped. He loved that her eyes widened, and those long, sinful lashes fluttered before she actually took a drink.
“This is good.” She sounded surprised.
“Sometimes, princess, you have to take a few chances in life. This is our night, remember? We’re going to say the hell with everything and just have a fuckin’ good time.”
She regarded him over the glass for what seemed an eternity before a slow smile lit up her face. God. That mouth. He wanted her lips wrapped around his cock right there. He needed relief, and thinking about her mouth wasn’t giving that to him, especially when her tongue came out and she swiped at a bit of cream lingering . . . He nearly groaned.
“You didn’t drink, Ice,” she pointed out. “There’s no taking unfair advantage.”
He was almost desperate to avoid thinking about her lips wrapped around his cock. He picked up his glass and downed the liquid, noticing his brothers exchanging peculiar little grins with one another. He couldn’t interpret them because he was too busy trying to get his wayward mind off her lips.
He turned to the cue sticks and hefted a couple of them before choosing the one he wanted while she handed his glass to Maestro. Maestro handed his glass off to Keys.
“You break first.”
Her eyebrow went up. “I see you didn’t learn from the darts.”
“I learned. No mercy, woman. That’s what I learned. But I am a gentleman . . .”
There was a derisive snort behind him and he turned to glare at Maestro, even as Soleil burst into laughter.
“He’s a fuckin’ liar,” Maestro said. “He’s a hustler with a cue stick.”
She flashed a smile at Maestro that made something dark and ugly swirl in Ice’s gut. He’d never been jealous in his life, certainly not over a woman, and not when she smiled at his brother. He had no problems sharing as a rule, but he meant what he’d said to Soleil. No one touched her but him. That smile was innocent enough on her end, but hell, she was so sexy without knowing, his brothers were right. He was going to spend a lot of time beating the shit out of outsiders who didn’t get the rules. The thought was uplifting.
“So am I,” Soleil assured Maestro.
“I think we should keep this game interesting,” Ice said. “When you miss, I get to ask you a question. You have to answer truthfully.” It was a game they all played, which was also part of a seduction plot they’d learned, and it always, always worked. They needed information to seduce their chosen mark, and the truth game was irresistible and invaluable.
She made a face at him and downed the rest of her drink before putting her glass on the table. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maestro glance at her, send the others a small grin, pick up the glass and immediately leave for the bar. Yeah. His brothers. He’d fuckin’ die for them.
“Just as long as when you miss, you have to answer my question,” she agreed.
“No one-word answers,” Ice added. “You have to actually answer the question.”
Soleil racked the balls and then made the break, sinking a striped ball immediately. She circled the table until she was almost standing in front of Ice. He was acutely aware of her, the scent of her, the way her hair cascaded down her back, that incredible shine under the lights.
She bent slowly toward the table and his heart nearly stopped. She wasn’t trying to be seductive, he was absolutely certain of that. She was too innocent. He could see her full concentration was on her shot, but the way the folds of the skirt fell over her ass called his attention to the way she was shaped. So perfectly. A woman’s feminine form had always been pleasing to him. She had a perfect, heart-shaped ass, one that just called to a man like him, putting all sorts of dirty, very erotic thoughts in his head.
His brothers said he was an artist. He would never claim such a title, but that said, he did like to look at a woman’s body. Her physical form. There was such beauty in the way she was put together. Looking at her, he waged a battle with himself. Let her go, which he knew he should. She was too classy for a man like him. She wouldn’t have a clue how to be in his world, and if he was honest with himself, that was half the reason he wanted her.
He cursed under his breath, fighting his protective, selfish nature. He was the very devil stalking her, and she was an angel chased by demons straight to him. Shit. He knew better than to trap her. Those kinds of things never worked out. Never. He’d convinced himself she needed him and so the exchange was fair, but it was bullshit, and he knew it.
While he was fighting to save her, she’d sunk four more balls. She turned her head, still bent over the table, her mouth so close to his groin he nearly felt her breath on the front of his jeans. She looked at him, as serious as sin.
“If I don’t remember to tell you again, Ice, thank you for tonight. You have no idea what you’ve done for me. You most likely saved my life.” She turned back to contemplate the table.
He stood there staring at her. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to the others crowded around watching. They’d all heard her. She wasn’t being melodramatic. There was a ring of truth in her voice. He looked to Absinthe. He was a human lie detector. Absinthe’s nod was barely there, but it told Ice Soleil had just revealed something extremely important. Whoever her ex-fiancé was, he wanted her dead and she was terrified he’d succeed.
A woman like Soleil should go to the cops for protection, yet she hadn’t. Why? That didn’t make sense, but the fact that she was in that kind of trouble hardened his resolve to keep her. He could keep her safe, make all her troubles go away. He could do that. He was that man.
Her ball spun in the pocket and leapt back out. He whistled softly. “You almost ran the table, darlin’, but almost doesn’t count. You owe me an answer.”
She sent him a small smile and a shrug. “I didn’t want you to feel bad, you know, a girl beating the crap out of you at pool. What’s your question?”
“Never worried, princess. I’m not the kind of man who gets upset if my woman manages to squeak out a win. I’d be proud.”
She looked pleased. “Let’s see what you can do.”
“What’s your best and worst trait?” Ice asked as he walked around the pool table, studying the position of all the balls. She hadn’t left him much of a shot, and she’d sunk nearly all the stripes.
“You only get one question. That’s two.”
He flashed her a grin. “Worst, then. Might as well get it over with.”
She narrowed her eyes as she watched him line up his shot and then call it. He banked his ball, clipped and then sank it. His grin widened, and he reached for his drink, took a sip and indicated hers.
Soleil sighed and took a healthy drink before pushing a few stray strands of hair out of her face. When she lifted her arm to push her fingers through her hair, her breasts rose, calling his immediate attention to her straining tits. He swore her nipples were hard, pushing against the thin material of her dress, trying to get to him.
He felt around for his glass again, staring at her breasts. Maestro handed him his drink and he all but downed it before he remembered he had to stay in control. He was sweating. Breathing too hard. His cock a fucking spike in his jeans.
“I drift. I’m a drifter. I don’t like conflict and I never can make a decision, so I just drift along. I’m working on it all the time, but
I still find myself just going along with something when I shouldn’t. Like Winston.”
The bastard’s name was Winston. He glanced at Player, and the man nodded and disappeared in the direction of the main room, where Code was busy pulling up everything he could on Soleil.
“I couldn’t believe when he hired a lawyer without so much as consulting me. It should have been my decision when to hire one after Kevin died. Kevin was my lawyer from the time my parents died. I wasn’t ready to have anyone else come into my life, but Winston decided he was in charge. Nothing I said deterred him. I decided then not to marry him, but I didn’t tell him that. Not decisively. I kept saying I needed more time.”
Out of desperation to stay on track with his intended agenda, Ice had lined up his next shot as he listened, but he straightened and then stalked her purposefully around the pool table. He must have looked scary because she backed up a few steps. He kept coming. He caught the front of her dress again, this time very gently, and pulled her to him.
“Baby, you don’t like something I do, I want to hear about it right then. You don’t like something anyone else says or does to you, I want to hear about it right then. You don’t tell me, I’m going to be pissed off. You don’t want to see me pissed. You get me? You talk to me. That’s how we resolve this shit. We talk. You. Me. You get me?” he repeated.
His voice was pitched low, but it was intense. She swallowed hard and nodded.
“Don’t do that. Don’t be afraid of me like you are of him. I would never hurt you. Never. I don’t hurt women. You need to learn to say what you think, and I can help you with that, but between us, I need to know you’re going to always tell me what upsets you. I need that from you.”
Soleil nodded slowly. “I’ll try, Ice. I don’t like being a drifter. I just never learned to be any different. I grew up in hotels. Being alone. I think I wanted to fit in so much I just learned not to say what I thought. I was always afraid it would get me kicked out.”
Ice took Soleil’s hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Torpedo Ink welcomes opinions, and we listen to everyone with equal attention. Say what you want, baby. You’re free.”
She took the drink Maestro put in her hand and took another sip. “For tonight anyway. You have no idea how lucky you are.”
He sank three balls in a row and then straightened up to look at her. “You’re rid of that parasite, princess. There’s no reason not to be free. We’re celebrating, remember? What are we celebrating? Your freedom. You’re one of us and we’ve got you safe. You can say or do anything you damn well want to. No one can get to you.”
She took another sip of her drink. “That sounds good, Ice, but it isn’t exactly the truth. You’re going to get on your motorcycle and go wherever it is you go, and I’ll still be here, facing him. He’s out there, and yes, tonight I can forget him, but he’s going to keep coming after me.”
“You want to park your sweet ass on the back of my bike, baby, just letting you know, that seat will always be reserved for you.”
* * *
There it was. The invitation Soleil wanted more than anything. Ice had just opened the door for more. For visiting the twenty-four-hour chapel or just riding away on his motorcycle. She wanted that with every breath she took. More and more she wanted him. The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to dare to be the bad girl and seduce him. He was there. He wanted her. It was easy so far. He couldn’t take his eyes off her breasts or her butt.
Ice was everything Soleil had ever fantasized over. Everything. Why had she finally met him now, when there was nothing left for her? She could feel the burn of tears at the backs of her eyes. Ice acted like more of a man than Winston ever had. He actually seemed to really care what she thought and felt. No one had ever given that to her before. She could fall hard if she let herself, and she was afraid she was doing just that. Maybe it was the alcohol. She wasn’t used to mixing drinks, but she didn’t care. She wanted this night with him. She wanted as much time with him as possible. A lifetime. She had this one night to pack a lifetime in, and she made up her mind she would do every single thing she’d ever dreamt of doing—and more—if she could.
If she drank enough, she might just dare to get on the back of his bike and ride off with him. She wouldn’t look back. She wouldn’t want to look back. He would be enough for her. She could make a life with him, she knew she could.
* * *
Ice turned back to his game and sank two more balls. Soleil was coming with him no matter what. She needed someone like him. Someone ruthless and ugly mean, someone willing to beat the shit out of anyone for looking at her wrong. Someone willing to kill an enemy that scared her so badly she’d walk into a biker bar for protection. The sad look she sometimes got on her face had to go.
He heard her soft laughter and couldn’t help but look over his shoulder to see her face light up the way it did whenever she laughed. “What?” he demanded, his voice harsh because his body was reacting to that laugh and he couldn’t afford not to be in control. The stakes were too high. He was going to get her to go home with him, but their code demanded she give full consent.
“Park my sweet ass on your bike?” she repeated.
He winced. He really needed to learn how to talk in polite society. On the other hand, she might as well know what he was really like. “You’ve got to admit, baby, you have a very sweet ass.”
“I love that you think so. I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle with someone else. I own one. And I fly planes. I love planes. Have you ever been on a glider? So cool. Especially when the sun is coming up. And then there’s paragliding. And parachuting.”
His girl was an adrenaline junkie. Who knew? That beautiful little angel face liked to do crazy shit. He was all kinds of crazy. He just might suit her. Hell, he fucking hoped so.
“I think you need the experience of riding with me,” he said. “You like all that, you’ll love going up the California coast on my bike. What difference does it make if you wait a few days—or weeks—to face this bastard? Come with me when I head back. You’ll be able to see Lana again. She went home with the president, his wife and a couple of others.”
She didn’t answer, and he turned back to the game. She was thinking about it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her finish off the screaming orgasm. They went down smooth and tasted even better. He concentrated on his shot. He needed to win this game—and the next. She was a hell of a pool player. He’d probably have to cheat next game and distract her. He grinned to himself, thinking about how he’d do that.
He sank the rest of the solid balls and then went around the table to indicate where he was sinking the eight ball. Maestro handed Soleil another screaming orgasm. She was going to need it. Very smoothly he sank the ball and turned, grinning at her. Maestro had a glass of whiskey ready for him. He was grinning just a little too much at Ice as well. What the hell was up with that look?
Soleil shook her head, her eyes bright, laughter in them. “I can’t believe I lost. I was picturing you without your jeans.”
“I can do that for you, princess, but I’m commando at the moment, so you might have a screaming orgasm just looking.”
Her gaze dropped to the front of his jeans. Her tongue slid out to moisturize her full lips, making his body ache so bad he wanted to groan. She looked like she wanted to drop to her knees and pull his jeans down just to see if he was commando. The stark longing on her face almost undid him right along with her glistening lips. He could imagine them stretched around his cock.
Someone snickered, but he couldn’t look away from her long enough to see who it was and mark them for a beating later.
Soleil looked up at him and rolled her eyes. “You’re so arrogant.” But she was laughing.
“I’ve got reason to be.” It took a moment before he could take a step close to her, subtly trapping her against the pool table. “I think I won those panties.�
� His voice came out nearly a growl. He felt like growling. If he was supposed to be seducing her, he wasn’t certain he was the one getting the job done.
She nodded. “I think you did.”
He put his hand on her leg, just above her hemline. Her skin was so soft against his callused hand his breath caught in his lungs. Before she could protest, and he wasn’t certain she was going to, he leaned in and took her mouth. As before, fire erupted. He wanted to be gentle, but it wasn’t happening, not when she went up in flames and just gave herself to him. All in. She tasted like a mixture of screaming orgasm and cinnamon and spice. The combination was an aphrodisiac, and he couldn’t get enough of her.
He lost himself in her, kissing her over and over, needing her mouth, the fire he found there, so hot he knew he was burning in hell—or heaven. It didn’t matter, he was going to stay there. His hand slipped higher, right to the edge of her panties. Gentle. Completely at odds with his kiss. She should have protested. Stopped him. She didn’t do either. Instead, she leaned into him. His heart clenched hard in his chest and his cock jerked and pulsed.
“How the hell do you get your skin so damned soft?” he murmured against her neck.
“I didn’t know it was that soft,” she said, sounding as ragged as he felt.
He caught her earlobe between his teeth and tugged just before reluctantly pulling back and allowing her hem to drop down again.
They stared at each other for a long moment and then he grinned and snapped his fingers. “Hand them over.” He half expected her to renege, or at least try to.
Instead, without looking around at anyone else, keeping her eyes solely on him, she slid her hands under the skirt of her dress and hooked her panties. She skimmed them down, wiggling a little as she brought them over the curve of her hips. His heart nearly stopped. Staring into his eyes, she brought up the sides of the dress rather than front or back. He caught a glimpse of her legs and hips, but that was all. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Hell. He needed more liquor if he was going to survive this night intact.
Vendetta Road Page 10