Vendetta Road (Torpedo Ink 3) - Page 40

* * *Soleil couldn’t believe that on the last night of her life, every fantasy she’d ever had was coming true. If it was possible to fall in love, fast and hard and completely, in just a few hours, she knew it was happening. She loved everything Ice did. Everything he said. He made her feel hot and sexy and desirable. He made her feel as if he couldn’t see another woman, would never see one. She loved the fact that he touched her openly in front of everyone. That just made her all the hotter and made her feel even more desirable.

The way he touched her was beyond anything she’d ever known, and she wanted more. She wanted it all with him. She knew he liked her body. It was in the way he looked at her, in the feel of his hands on her. She felt the same way about his. Seduction wasn’t difficult when two people were both willing . . . and she was so willing. Whatever he wanted. Any way he wanted. Anywhere.

He made the suggestion to sign the prenup, not her. Still, she had to keep her mind from going anywhere permanent. It wasn’t right to get him drunk, drag him to a twenty-four-hour chapel and marry him, and then ride away where Winston and the rest of the world would have to leave her alone.

She’d make Ice so happy. She’d be happy. She’d never been happy. Not until now. Not until right that moment in a biker bar, bent over a pool table with her skirt flipped up and her very hot bottom hopefully holding Ice’s attention while she contemplated whether or not she was going to burn in hell for all eternity after sinking four balls to get her prenup signed. And if she was going to miss the next shot in order to sign Ice’s prenup to get him one step closer to the altar or stop the fantasy before things could go any further.* * *Soleil was gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. Ice was dripping with need, his balls so tight he was afraid he might embarrass himself. It was the most amazing, perfect night of his life.

“Try making the shot, princess,” he whispered, deliberately bending his body over hers. He pressed his cock against her inviting, bare cheeks, keeping one hand on her back.

She laughed softly. “How am I supposed to do that?”

“I’m signing your prenup. You don’t make the shot, I get the chance to get you to sign mine. I think that’s fair . . .” He pressed tighter against her, moving his hips so that his cock slid along the seam of her cheeks through his jeans. “Don’t you? Try it. You might make it.”

Soleil didn’t try to straighten. She studied the table, took a breath and lined up her shot. Ice waited until the exact moment she went to hit the ball and he pressed his cock right into that snug warmth and his hand dipped low to flick her clit. She jumped, and the ball went at an angle, crashing into several solids, sending them flying.

He kept his hand on her back while he fucked her with his finger. She was tight, surrounding him with heat. So slick. So ready for him. He took her just high enough to leave her wanting more before he pulled out of her and straightened slowly, letting her skirt fall back into place.

He caught her hair, tugged until she stood upright and then, deliberately, he licked his finger. Savored her taste. All the while staring into her eyes. Those amazing eyes of hers had gone a little dazed. He knew he’d left her wanting. That was part of the game, but he didn’t only savor the taste of her in his mouth; he savored that look of helpless hunger on her face—for him.

She didn’t seem to be aware of anyone but him, although when Maestro handed her a drink, she murmured her thank-you very politely. He handed a pen to Ice.

“Prenup, princess,” Ice said. “I’m a man of my word. You want the fuckin’ thing signed, it’s signed.”

She nodded solemnly. “It’s important.” She frowned. “I can’t remember why, but I know it’s important.”

“It is,” he agreed.

She pulled the paper out of her pocket, unfolded it and smoothed it out. “Kevin wrote this up for me. Isn’t it wonderful?” She acted like it was sacred.

Ice took it just as carefully, pretended to read through it, nodded his head and signed. Maestro witnessed it. “There you go. Signed. Dated. Witnessed. That is a legal, binding document. If Kevin wrote it up for you, you know it’s right.”

“It is. He always did what was right. Thank you, Ice. I appreciate it.” She sipped at her drink and indicated the pool table. “You have to sink four balls, so I can sign yours. That’s only fair.”

Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance
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