Ice found he needed to touch her. Every time she’d moved away from him, talking to one of his brothers or playing darts with Alena, he’d found himself slipping back into the abyss. It was cold and dark, that black hole. Touching her warm skin somehow created a way for him to feel sunlight again. It wasn’t real. He knew that. It was the night. Their night. All about the fantasy.
Later, after he took her back to the motel and fucked her brains out, he had work to do. The kind of work a man with ice in his veins and a glacier where his soul should be did. He glanced at his watch and then at Savage. Savage barely moved, his nod nearly imperceptible. Ice glanced at Maestro. He gave Ice a faint grin and pointed to his watch.
“You don’t have to go this time,” Storm said. “I’ll take your place.”
Ice shook his head. “I pulled the straw, I do the work. Besides, you’re going to make certain my wife doesn’t wake up and make a run for it.” It was stupid crazy, but he fucking loved saying “my wife.”
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was sipping at a drink, her gaze fixed on the dartboard as Absinthe threw his darts and hit three seventeens right in a row. Soleil put her drink down, gave him a smile and stepped up, darts in hand. She looked so coolly confident, Ice’s body stirred all over again.
“How am I supposed to do that?” Storm demanded.
“I don’t care how it’s done, but she doesn’t leave,” he said, meaning it. “You make sure of that for me.”
Storm clapped his brother on the shoulder. “She’ll be there.”
Ice gripped his arm, his show of affection for his brother. At least that was real.
After that, the photographer was gone, the doors to the game room were closed and the party got wild. He was out of control, and Soleil looked beautiful laid out on a pool table for him to feast on. She tasted even better than he remembered. They had to pose for any number of pictures Maestro took for their private wedding album and then he’d had enough. He wanted to be alone with his bride.
Ice wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against him, declaring to his brethren he wanted his wife to himself. Immediately, because every single one of them knew what was at stake, they prepared to leave. Alena tied up the skirt, and Keys helped Soleil onto Ice’s bike.
Soleil laid her head against his back, her body tight against his while the bike roared to life. Her hands were tight around his waist. He dropped his gloved hand to hers and moved one to his lap, right over his cock. The motorcycle vibrated, sending waves of stimulation through him, adding to the ache in his body. Her hand curved over his cock, and she made a small rubbing motion, in counterpoint to the vibration of his Harley.
He loved riding. It was the only way he felt free. Alive. Alone, or with his brothers surrounding him, hurtling down a highway with the wind on his face had always been the best feeling in the world. Now, that included Soleil snuggled up tightly against him, her tits pressed into his back and her hand making his cock very happy.
The motel was two stories, an L-shaped structure with a fenced-in pool in the middle of the L. Six rooms were right next to one another on the second story, with Ice’s room second to the end. Storm had the end room and Alena was on the other side of Ice. Keys, Absinthe and Code each had a room on the second story as well. The rooms on the first floor were directly under the ones above them. Seven rooms were taken on that floor. The bikes were parked in a row just outside those seven rooms, so they could be watched. Glitch, one of the prospects, had accompanied them, and he also had a room on the second story.
Keys helped Soleil off the bike and she stood close, waiting for Ice. He liked that. She hadn’t even looked at the motel. She clearly had money, but she didn’t seem to care that they were staying not in a suite at one of the most luxurious hotels in Vegas but in a small motel a distance from the strip. The moment he backed the bike into his space, Ice had his arm wrapped around her and was walking her to their room. His brothers gave them some good-natured catcalls, which he replied to with a rude finger gesture over his head.
As they walked up the stairs, he slid one hand under that intriguing layer of chiffon covering her tit. He loved how soft she was, how her nipple was already hard. At the top of the stairs, he put his mouth there, pulling her tit right into his mouth, sucking hard, using his tongue on her nipple, flicking and flattening it to the roof of his mouth before using the edge of his teeth. She gave a little broken cry and cradled his head to her, arching a little to give him more. Her soft moaning nearly drove him wild.