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.