Vendetta Road

by Christine Feehan

  Lana studied her face. “Honey, you don’t have to do that with me. I’m your friend. In the club, we’re sisters. We look out for one another. This has something to do with Ice. You know he didn’t go to a stupid wet T-shirt contest. If he wanted to see boobs under a wet shirt, he’d spray you with a hose. There was some club business he had to take care of tonight. Storm and Absinthe are with him.” She glanced at her watch. “They should be back any minute.”

  Soleil didn’t know whether to let herself believe Lana and be relieved, or to hold on to her fears and be miserable. She’d never been happy until she’d been with Ice. Never. Not really. She glanced at Lana. Lana was confident in herself as a woman, as a member of Torpedo Ink. Soleil had promised herself she was going to be like her—to get to that same place as a woman, as Ice’s wife and as part of the Torpedo Ink family. Maybe she was making a total fool of herself, but if she was going to make a choice, she wanted to choose happiness, and that meant believing in Ice. She had to make a conscious choice to believe in her husband.

  Two more of the Torpedo Ink men joined them. She recognized Mechanic and Transporter, brothers who owned a garage. She liked them both and gave them a shy smile. She didn’t have confidence in her place in the club without Ice there—everything was too new—but she was determined she would.

  Mechanic joined Ink at the grill. “Not bad, Ink. You got everything ready. Czar and Steele are on their way. Breezy and Blythe are bringing the side dishes. The prospects are helping carry them. Since when have you been doing the grilling?”

  Lana kicked Soleil’s foot to get her attention. “That’s what they do. You do all the work and they take credit for it.”

  Soleil couldn’t help but laugh at Ink’s expression. He pointed the tongs at Lana. “Woman, you are a pain in my ass. I didn’t take credit, and Mechanic, for your information, I can grill.”

  Lana laughed. “You’re just making shit up, Ink. No way do you know the first thing about cooking or grilling. I’ve known you since you were a little scrawny kid. I never saw you behind a stove or in front of a grill. There were no secret lessons in the middle of the night.”

  Ink managed to look so affronted, Soleil nearly fell off her chair laughing. Feeling eyes on her, she glanced up and everything inside her stilled. There he was. Ice. He took her breath away. He was such a gorgeous man. That build. That hair. Those eyes. Beside him, Storm stood talking in a low voice to Absinthe. Storm looked just like Ice other than the three teardrops tattooed onto Ice’s face. They were stunning when they were together. She knew they must have caused a sensation when they walked through the throngs of biker women to make their way back to the campsite.

  Ice came right to her, took her hands and pulled her from the lawn chair into his arms. His mouth settled on hers. He swept her away, swept every doubt away. How could he possibly kiss the way he did if he didn’t feel anything for her? He tasted the way love should taste. His hands swept down her back and pulled her tighter against him.

  “I missed you. Were you good while I was gone?”

  “No, she wasn’t,” Preacher said. “Neither was Lana.”

  “Lana was flirting her cute little butt off with some asshole named Stallion,” Ink informed them.

  Mechanic had just taken a drink of beer and he spewed it out onto the ground. Transporter stopped the beer can in midair, staring at Lana. Lana tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair, giving Ink the death stare.

  “He was after Soleil,” Lana informed them haughtily. “I had plans to ruin him for life. He was hideous.”

  A roar of laughter went up. Soleil smiled, but it faded quickly when she found herself looking into a glacier of blue. Her heart skipped a beat.

  “It was him, from the site next to us, wasn’t it?”

  She ran her hand up and down his arm. “It was nothing. Lana handled it. And then Preacher and Ink came along, and he took off.”

  “What did he say to you?”

  “He talked to Lana mainly. He said if she wouldn’t tell him her name, the club could have trouble, or something to that effect. He left, Ice.”

  Ice turned to look at Lana. “Thanks, Lana. Means the fuckin’ world to me, right here.” He swept his hand down from Soleil’s head to the curve of her butt. “You want to walk around before we eat?”

  She could tell he wanted to be alone with her, so she nodded. He threaded his fingers through hers, and they began moving through the pathways between the campsites. The grounds were packed. Everywhere she looked, people were dancing, gyrating, drinking, laughing, catching up with one another. Very few women were wearing tops, and she was feeling a little overdressed in Ice’s shirt.

  “This is actually far different than I pictured it. It’s wild and fun.”

  He sent her a little grin. “I’m glad you’re having a good time. Thanks for getting the grill started. By the time we usually get around to it, we start eating around three in the morning.” He pushed her deeper into the trees. “I fuckin’ missed you. I had things to do and all I could think about was getting back to you.” He cupped her face and bent to brush his lips over hers. Gently. A barely there kiss that sent butterfly wings fluttering through her stomach. “Did you miss me, Soleil? Did you miss my hands on you?”

  “So much,” she admitted. “I always miss you, Ice, when you’re not with me.”

  He kissed his way over her chin, down to her throat. “Open your shirt for me.”

  She obeyed without hesitation. There was a small picnic table set to one side of the long sweeping strands of a willow tree. He backed her right up to the table so that the edge pressed against her lower back. His lips continued to travel down her throat to her chest and then over the top curves of her breasts.

  Everywhere he touched her, kissed her, little flames lingered. He ignited every nerve ending without trying. She was always acutely aware that she was female and he was male whenever they were near each other. Her breasts ached for him, for his touch, for his mouth. His hands were gentle, his mouth even more so. It was so unexpected she found tears burning in her eyes.

  “Hold your shirt open for me.”

  He framed her breasts with his hands and steadily bent her backward over the table. His mouth followed her down, finding her left nipple as she pulled the shirt out of his way. It took a moment to realize he’d left her shirt on to protect her from the top of the table. His mouth was powerful, sucking at her breast with a strong, steady rhythm that instantly made her go damp. Without warning the vibrator began to buzz, stimulating the nerve endings inside her butt. She gasped and squirmed. His fingers tugged at her other nipple, rolling and pinching until her breath hitched in her throat.

  “Open your jeans, princess. Push them down your legs.”

  He whispered the order and somehow that soft intimacy sent a shiver through her body. It wasn’t easy to obey him. He didn’t let up with his hands and mouth, and the sensations were growing until her legs felt like rubber. The vibrations seemed to move through her body like waves of heat.

  He kissed his way down her breasts to her belly button, his tongue tasting every inch of her skin between. He took his time, his hands gentle on her, whispering over her skin, the way his mouth was. Her breath hissed out of her lungs, and she tried not to thrash. Tried to stay still. It was beautiful, what he was doing to her. Amazing. She was drenched in desire for him, the need for him so strong she couldn’t stop her hands from stroking his shoulders, his back, from moving through his thick hair.

  He dragged her jeans down to her shoes. She’d worn her pull-on boots and was thankful she had when he pulled them off and set them with her jeans on the bench. He was precise about each movement but very fast, as if every detail was already seen to in his mind. He kept one hand on her belly, pinning her to the table almost the entire time.

  Then he simply lifted her legs and settled them over his shoulders. She watched his face. He look
ed like sin itself. Sensual lines were carved deep. His eyes moved over her, burning his name into her thighs. His tongue slid up the inside of her left thigh, and her entire body shuddered.

  She couldn’t stop moaning. Then his mouth was there, right in her burning center, and the vibration hitched up another notch and she was gone. The moaning turned to wails. The wails turned to screams.

  Soleil had no idea how long Ice spent using his mouth and fingers to bring her to orgasm, over and over, but she thought a few times she might not survive. He seemed to know just when she was too sensitive, and he’d use his teeth to nip along her inner thigh and then spread kisses over her bare lips before using his expert tongue so wickedly she could see colors bursting behind her eyes.

  She had no idea how many times those waves rushed over her, but they kept coming even when he lifted his head and slowly lowered her feet to the ground. His hands guided her around until she was bending over the table. Just before her front felt the surface, he reached around and drew the edges of her shirt together, so her skin didn’t touch the wood.

  He kept his hand on her back, keeping her bent over the table. “I love your ass, Soleil. It’s so perfect.” He rubbed her cheeks. “I love how responsive you are to me.”

  He smacked her, spreading heat across her bottom that erupted into fire, burning straight through her center, sending the little vibrator crazy. It felt like flames licked continuously at her insides, touching her everywhere until she was crazy for him.

  Soleil gave a small sob of need and pushed back against his hand. “It feels so good when you do that.” It did. He never smacked hard, just enough to spread that heat everywhere.

  “I like to see my handprints on you,” he admitted. “Sexy as hell.” He added several more, always rubbing to keep those flames burning inside her.

  Then he shoved her legs farther apart and, without warning, pushed into her with his cock. It felt massive. An invasion. Perfection. He drove through tight muscles that were hot and slick, coating the thick shaft as he surged into her. He buried himself deep, forcing his way so that those muscles had to give way for his entrance.

  He threw his head back and roared. He sounded so sexy. Hoarse. Husky. His hands kept moving over her back, stroking down her spine. Smacking her cheeks, rubbing there. The vibrator sent waves of fire rushing through her. It was all too much. Pressure coiled tighter and tighter. She could barely breathe. She reached out with both hands and grasped the sides of the picnic table.

  He kept pistoning into her. Lust grew sharper. Spread through her until she couldn’t think of anything but his cock moving in her, claiming her, taking her so high she was afraid to let go but desperately needed to. Her world narrowed until there was nothing but that perfect instrument of lust, driving into her, over and over, her inner muscles inflamed and drenched in fire.

  She felt him grow, his girth stretching her. It suddenly felt as if his cock were pure steel, white-hot. Her breath caught and then she was screaming as he erupted, dragging through the bundles of nerve endings, flinging her out somewhere distant, so that her entire being became pure feeling. There was no Soleil. She was gone and in her place was a writhing, sobbing mass of pleasure. The vibrator went off and she got her vision back.

  Ice bent over her, holding her as he fought for air. “Holy shit, babe. We may have just found outer space.” He whispered it against her back.

  She laughed, her lungs protesting, burning, but she didn’t care. She’d never been so happy. Never. The tears burning behind her eyelids were happy ones. He just made her feel special. It didn’t matter that now she could hear the loud music and the voices surrounding them. Their little oasis seemed remote, as if there were only the two of them in the world.

  “I love you, Soleil.”

  She closed her eyes, her heart stuttering. He whispered it against her back, his lips touching her skin, as if he could sink the declaration through skin to bone. Her throat closed, the lump so big she was afraid she might choke. He managed to surprise her, shock her, doing and saying the most unexpected things.

  “I love you very much, Ice,” she whispered back.

  “Hold still, baby.” Very gently he removed the vibrator.

  She closed her eyes and then slowly pushed up as he stepped back to give her room. He handed her a small cloth he’d pulled from a ziplock bag. It was damp. She cleaned herself off before handing it back to him. As she pulled up her jeans, she watched him clean himself and then drag his jeans up.

  Soleil perched on top of the picnic table, mostly because she wasn’t certain her legs would keep her up. They felt like jelly to her.

  He grinned at her as he sprayed the vibrator with antibacterial spray and dropped it into the small plastic bag.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Clearly, you’ve done this a lot, being so prepared and all. The washcloth, the spray, the plastic bags.”

  He shoved the bag into his pocket. “Never cared that much one way or the other about getting a woman off. I want you to feel everything. I want you to have any sensation I can give you, as long as it feels good to you. No, baby, all this preparation, it’s only yours. Only for you. And yeah, I thought about it before we ever came here.”

  Her heart stuttered. His beautiful blue eyes moved over her with a kind of reverence that made her stomach slide.

  “Walking back tonight, I scouted for a place we could be alone, found this and knew it was secluded. Asked a few of the brothers to make certain we stayed alone, to watch our backs because it was important to me to show you how I feel about you. When I touch you, princess, every time I touch you, I’m showing you how I feel.” He fished around in his pocket and brought out a jewelry box.

  Her heart began to pound. She looked from it up to his face. “Ice.” She just breathed his name. His face. That beloved face. So sensual. So hers. He didn’t give that expression to anyone else. She brushed his jaw with her fingertips because she couldn’t help herself.

  With his thumb he flipped open the box. Her wedding ring was nestled there. Made of platinum, the etchings were infused with dark chocolate diamonds to match her eyes. He took her hand and slipped off the laminated ring to push the platinum one in its place.

  She just stared at it, knowing it was one of a kind. “What does it say?”

  He kept her hand, his thumb sliding over the ring. “In my language, ‘Soleil was born for Ice.’ Mine says ‘Ice was born for Soleil.’ Then here, ‘For Eternity.’” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the ring. The paper one he put in the box, and that went back into his pocket.

  She had to blink back tears. “It’s beautiful, Ice. I really love it.” She wanted to just stare at it, to fling herself into his arms and hold him tight. She couldn’t move. She could only look at his face. Into his eyes.

  He curled his palm around the nape of her neck and pulled her into him so he could kiss her. She loved when he did that. It always felt to her as if he was being possessive, as if he was telling her and the world that she belonged to him. And then he could kiss like a dream . . .

  She cupped her hands around his face. “Thank you for finding me, Ice. You changed my life. I love being your wife.”

  “I love that you’re my wife,” he answered and caught her hands in his so he could kiss both of them. “Technically, you found me.” He jumped down from the table, pulled her boots on her and helped her off. Raising his voice, he called out, “We’re coming out.”

  She tried to pierce the veil of darkness and the long, sweeping limbs of the weeping willow tree, but it was impossible, and the members of Torpedo Ink were too quiet to ever hear them coming.

  “Let’s get back and eat. I’m starved,” he said. “Tomorrow will be fun. There’re vendors, rows and rows of them. The girls will want to visit them all.”

  “I’ll be able to use my bank account,” she said. “We filed the papers, they know I’m alive and I
don’t have to hide. I can actually use my own money instead of living off you all the time. I’ve hated not being able to help you out.”

  Ice stopped dead, just before he pushed back the weeping limbs of the giant tree. He caught her hair in his fist and pulled her head back, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Are we fucking married?” With his other hand he lifted her hand to hold up her ring.

  She blinked, her stomach dropping in trepidation. At the same time, a wicked little flame sprang into life, flickering hotly between her legs. “Yes.”

  “What did I tell you?”

  “I don’t know. About the money?”

  “We don’t argue about money. Not ever. My money is your money. You want money, you just use it. We don’t talk about yours or mine. I hear you talk about money, what are you supposed to do with your mouth instead?”

  “Umm.” She squirmed a little, the flames spreading, which was insane after what they’d just experienced together.

  “You can use your mouth to swallow me down.”

  “Now?” She could hear the murmur of voices growing louder.

  “You just talked about money again, didn’t you?” His hands dropped to his belt buckle. He jerked his head toward the ground.

  “What the fuck is the holdup, Ice?” Maestro asked, stepping through the weeping tree limbs. He wasn’t alone. There were two others with him, but she could only see their boots.

  Soleil would have pulled back, but Ice pushed his cock into her mouth. It was semihard. Hot. Delicious. He gave a small groan. She loved the taste and feel of him, and she was already lost. She loved that he was using their ridiculous money argument as an excuse for her to blow him. It was her favorite thing. Absolute favorite thing.

  “Just stopping the bullshit money talk. We’re not ever going to be arguing about that shit. I’ve been reading how many marriages end because of money fights.”

  “You found a good way to stop it,” Maestro said, amusement in his voice. “I think I’m going to have to do more reading.”