Desolation Road (Torpedo Ink 4)

“Get a move on, you two,” Czar said. “Eat now, dessert later.”

Absinthe found himself laughing, feeling so much lighter, as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He helped fit the tables together while Scarlet helped bring out the trays of food. Fried chicken. Beef. So many side dishes. All the Torpedo Ink members were there, including Savage and Destroyer. They’d returned from the city only a half hour or so earlier. When Absinthe deliberately got close to him, he felt far less strained.

While Scarlet was putting plates, napkins and silverware at the end of the bar for everyone to use, Absinthe saw Savage go up to her. As always, Savage looked at ease, as if nothing bothered him. Scarlet straightened, her gaze immediately searching the room for Absinthe. He was a distance from her but when he started toward her, she motioned him off with a small shake of her head.

Savage faced his way so he could read his lips. “Just want to know we’re good, Scarlet.”

“I figured out, after I got over being scared, that I was mostly mad at myself.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re okay with it.”

“I love him, the same as you do. So, yeah, we’re okay, Savage.”

“Good.” He started to turn away but then turned back to her. “Just out of curiosity. When you went for the gun, who did you plan to shoot? Me? Or Absinthe?”

“I thought I might wing both of you just to make myself feel better.”

Savage shook his head. “I hope that man knows what he’s got in his bed.”Absinthe rubbed his hand along the base of Scarlet’s spine. They sat in the shadows at the very back of the bar in one of the few booths, Scarlet in his lap. He felt like he hadn’t been alone with her in days. The dinner had been fun, visiting with all the members of the club as well as the women. Most of the outsiders had gone home, along with Czar’s wife and some of the newer women in the club—Casimir’s wife, as well as Gavriil’s woman. They weren’t quite ready for what might be considered the wilder side of the Torpedo Ink parties. To the charter members, it was their normal.

“I wish we were home, miledi.” Absinthe’s hand moved up to Scarlet’s ear, caressed her lobe over and over. “I want to fuck your brains out.” He felt the shiver that went through her body. “We barely got married and didn’t have a chance to have a honeymoon. It’s all I can think about.” He’d wanted a better start for them. He’d given that a lot of thought. If he couldn’t take her off somewhere exotic, at least he wanted to be at their home and try to give her a honeymoon there.

She leaned into his hand. “Me too,” she admitted. “We haven’t really had time to be alone together with everything going on with the club.”

At his insistence, she’d worn one of her librarian skirts, the butterfly one that had always made him crazy. It swung around her legs intriguingly, those butterfly buttons up the side making him mad to want to slowly undo them, one by one. Now he could. She had a little matching blouse, with the same butterfly buttons fluttering over her generous breasts, daring him to uncover her. She looked so prim and proper with the blouse closed and the swing skirt buttoned properly, not exposing her thigh.

He dipped his fingers below the hem and ran his nails up her knee. “This is one of my favorite outfits.” She even wore the square purple glasses for him that matched. Her literary outfit. Prim and proper. “I wanted to sit you up on your desk, tear off your panties and devour you. I think I’m going to do that later. Eat some grapes right out of your hot little pussy. Or some of Alena’s orange-spice dessert balls. She serves them in these little sugar nets with strings I can tug right out of you.” He teased her earlobe with his teeth. “How does that sound, baby?”

Alena had outdone herself, baking some of the specialty desserts, and Absinthe couldn’t wait to try them with Scarlet, as long as she didn’t object with the club around them.

“Fantastic. Sexy. I don’t know. There’s so many people here.”

He laughed, his fingers massaging the nape of her neck. “Look in the corner, baby. Ice and Soleil are already going at it.”

The lights in the bar were dim. They weren’t expecting the Diamondbacks until the early morning hours. He caught Scarlet’s head and turned her face toward the stage, where Ice was sitting on a stair, Soleil on his lap, her breasts in his hands, while she moved on him rhythmically. It was impossible to tell if he was pumping in her ass or pussy, but she was moaning, and he had his head thrown back.