“Not really.”
“Where the fuck did you learn to kiss like that?” he demanded.
She smiled up at him, her eyes shining bright, her feathery lashes fluttering just a little as she blushed. He loved that she blushed. He could imagine her entirely naked, her skin a soft rose all laid out for him like a banquet.
“That wasn’t me, Ice, that was all you. I’ve never had kisses like that before.”
God. Her innocence. Neither had he, but he wasn’t about to admit it. “Let’s get another drink and cool down. We can play pool. Alena isn’t here to challenge you, but I’ve played a time or two and might give you a run for your money.”
She nodded. “Another drink would be perfect.”
He took her hand and led her back into the game room and over to the pool table. She looked around, spotted the ladies’ room and pointed. He walked her over to it, stepped in first to assure himself no one was inside before he allowed her in. As she started deeper into the room, he caught the front of her dress there in the doorway and pulled her back to him.
He kissed her again, over and over, feeding off her fire, demanding she kiss him back because he needed that firestorm rolling through his belly into his groin to show him there was something human left in him after all. He could feel. He hadn’t believed it possible, and in a short time this angelic creature had turned his world upside down. Heat rushed through his veins like a fireball. Flames engulfed him. His heart jerked hard in his chest. His arms were steel bars, a cage surrounding her. This woman. This sweet, far-too-innocent woman he was never going to give up.
He knew it was wrong, but he just didn’t give a fuck. She didn’t belong out there in a world where she wasn’t protected from predators like him. He could do that. He could keep her safe, and she could damn well make him feel human when he’d lost that ability too long ago. Every fucking thing in the world had a price. Everything—especially safety.
His mouth left hers and trailed fire over her chin and down her throat. Deliberately, taking a chance, he dragged the front of her dress down to find the curves of her tits. He planned on apologizing later. After all, he’d been so far gone he wasn’t thinking straight. The trouble was, it was the truth.
Her soft curves were fuller than he’d thought. So beautiful. Round and high. Jutting toward the heat of his mouth, wanting freedom. He bent his head and took the left one deep into his mouth, tongue flattening her nipple to the roof of his mouth. Stroking caresses.
Soleil’s head fell back, her tit pushing deeper, as if she were feeding herself to him. Her hands came up, one under her breast, the other at the back of his head, holding him there. It was hot. It was sexy. He heard himself groan, and it shocked him. He stroked over and over with his tongue, suckling, and then, his cock pulsing in time to his heart, dared to use the edge of his teeth. Carefully. Almost gently. An exquisite torture.
She groaned, and both his heart and his cock jumped. She was beyond perfection. Beyond anything he could have conjured up on his darkest night, when he was so in need, he didn’t think he could make it one more second let alone through the long night.
Abruptly, before it was too late for both of them, he pulled back, using his crystalline blue eyes unashamedly. “I’m so sorry, Soleil. I’ve never lost it like that before in my life.” He poured sincerity into his voice, although for the first time he was telling the truth.
Very gently he pulled the top of her dress up. “Really, baby, I’m sorry. Must be the fuckin’ liquor and the fact that you kiss like sin.”
She touched his face, a barely there whisper of her fingers across his mouth. His heart stuttered in his chest. “You weren’t the only one, Ice. I lost it too.”
He could fall in love with her right there in the fucking ladies’ room of the bar. “I’ll be right outside.” Getting her another drink. Making sure his plan was carried out step by step. Losing her wasn’t an option.
He stepped back out of the room, giving her privacy and his body a reprieve. The moment the door closed with Soleil inside, his brothers crowded around him.
* * *
Soleil knew she was going to burn in hell forever. This was so wrong. It didn’t matter that he was trying to seduce her. It didn’t even matter why she’d come to the biker bar in the first place. She’d come and she’d chosen to stay. That had been her choice, and she’d stayed because of Ice. She wanted him to seduce her. She wanted to have a night of pure, perfect, tipsy sex with a gorgeous biker like Ice. But more than anything, she wanted to keep him.
She wanted to keep his friends, who thought they were so cleverly helping him with his plan. The hand-off of glasses was almost cute. The bumps to bring him closer to her. The way they chose the music so he could dance with her. They really were like a family, trying to help their brother get what he wanted. She loved that he wanted her.
Ice had almost managed to make her forget what had made her run from the hotel and her life. She hated her life. She really hated Winston. She detested who she’d become over the years. It wasn’t who she was inside. She was this girl. The one in the bar, plying the gorgeous man with drinks, just as he was doing to her, in the hopes of getting her way.
What were the real chances of riding off into the sunset on the back of his bike, far from her life? Probably zero. She rubbed her temples and looked at herself in the mirror. If she really did seduce him into marriage, how would she keep him? She clearly wasn’t all that interesting. She didn’t have anything but money to offer him, and he was a biker. He liked being free. Sex? He probably got that on the daily. It wasn’t even ethical. Moral. What was she thinking? Was she really that desperate?
The answer was yes. She was so damn tired of being alone. Of hotels. Of silence. Or disgusting, vile people like Winston, and now she was actually thinking of becoming one and tricking Ice into marriage. It wasn’t like trapping him. He had a choice, but not if he was drunk. Her conscience wasn’t going to let her do it. That had always been her problem. She wanted to be a bad girl, but there was always that moment when she weighed whether she should do something against whether she wanted to do it.
It had been so hot when Ice had touched her on the dance floor, rubbing the cheeks of her bottom, and then in the doorway of the ladies’ room, pulling down the top of her dress. She almost wanted someone to see. It was just hot. He’d been so frantic, as if he couldn’t resist her. As if her body were so incredibly seductive, he had to have her right there, right in front of the world to show them she belonged to him. She loved that. She’d always wanted that. Craved it. She wanted to show the world he belonged to her. He was everything she’d ever wanted, and all she had to do was work it a little. Finesse a bit. Flirt. Drink.
She rubbed at her temples, wishing her life had been different. Wishing just once she had the chance to do things over, to do them differently. Winston wanted her dead. He was going to kill her. Sooner or later it would happen. She hadn’t had a chance to live her life at all. To be herself. To laugh and be ridiculous, to ride off with the hottest man in the bar. To do one single thing she’d dreamt or fantasized of doing. She was going to die, and it was going to be ugly, and she was going to do that with all kinds of regrets. She was tired of always doing what was right; it hadn’t gotten her anywhere.