"You could go in on the side where the railroad tracks are," Joley suggested. "It's a little bit of a hike, but you'll come out on one of the roads above the campgrounds. There are all sorts of unmarked logging roads, but I can show you the entrance and the right road."
"That would be great, Joley, but there's more. Evan intends to destroy the Drake house, to burn it to the ground," Blythe said. "He also will go after Inez's store and possibly other businesses in town. He'll have as many people hurt as possible. That will be happening simultaneously with what's going on out here. I would like you and anyone else pregnant or having children to stay in town and cope with that. Jonas can be there with some others to help you. That way, Jonas isn't doing anything against the law, and with your help, he'll be safe. So will Sea Haven."
"But you and Elle will be out here," Joley protested. "Ilya would never allow his brothers in a fight like this one without helping them."
"I couldn't take it knowing you and the others were in danger," Blythe said. "I really couldn't, Joley. I can ask Viktor to try to get Ilya to stay in town with all of you. You'll need a couple more people unless Jonas can arrange for extra law enforcement to help him, but that's a risk. None of them can come out here when the call comes in that there's a problem. Only Jackson can come."
She couldn't stop any of them, but she hoped they understood and cared enough to give her that much.
"You really need someone in the village?" Airiana said. "You're not just saying that?"
Blythe shook her head. "I wish I was making it up. No, there's a real danger. I think especially to Inez. She identified the members of the Swords as the ones causing a scene, and when they were taken to jail, they all had records and outstanding warrants. The club is very angry with Inez, and Viktor says she and her store will be targeted."
"Naturally we want everyone as safe as possible," Elle said. "With all of you working together, you should be able to control things there."
"I thought you might stay with them, Lissa," Blythe ventured, hoping her sister got her silent plea. Lissa was lethal and she could protect the others if there was a problem. "They'll use fire and you can stop that . . ." She trailed off.
Lissa nodded. "Hannah and Airiana are the best with wind and weather. Judith can boost power to them."
"Inez will cooperate," Elle said. "She acts like she's Jackson's mom half the time. She'll do anything to keep him safe."
Blythe groaned. "You can't tell Inez."
"We have to," Joley pointed out. "She can't just be bait. Only her. Jonas and Jackson can figure out what to say to her, and she'll keep her mouth shut. She always does when it's needed. She loves Jackson. And the bonus, Blythe, is that Viktor will be a hero in her eyes and she'll get everyone else to view him that way."
It was true that the village of Sea Haven followed Inez's lead in most things. Still, Viktor was bringing in a motorcycle club to reside in Caspar, which was only a few miles from Sea Haven. It was all getting out of hand. She couldn't keep her man safe, no matter how hard she tried.
"Blythe." Elle put her hand over her cousin's. "The Prakenskiis and the Drakes together with you and your sisters will stop them. Viktor is going to be safe."
"I know." But she didn't. She wasn't counting on the Prakenskiis or the Drakes. She wasn't even counting on her sisters, and she knew what all of them could do. She was counting on Viktor's brothers and sisters from his club. Reaper and Savage. Ice and Storm. Alena. Transporter, Absinthe and Mechanic. The men Viktor talked about to her. The others who weren't yet in Sea Haven but would be coming with Habit and his crew of Swords. The last nine would be riding with him, deep undercover, ready to protect Viktor and follow his lead anywhere. She was counting on all of them.
"When's he coming?" Sarah asked. "Evan. When can we expect him? How much time do we have?"
"Viktor reported to Habit last night. He's spreading the word to the other chapters to come to the Egg Taking Station via Highway 20. He told them to avoid Sea Haven and come prepared to camp rough. There are only outhouses here, not that the club is going to mind that, but no showers either. Who knows, maybe they don't care about bathing," Blythe added.
"Will Evan be on a motorcycle? Can they take him out before he gets here?" Abigail asked.
Blythe shook her head. "He's totally paranoid and doesn't trust anyone. No one will know ahead of time how he'll get here, but he'll have to meet with Viktor to get the information he wants and formulate a plan to ambush Jackson." She tried to close her mind to the fact that Evan had killed his bodyguards for no apparent reason.
"Then we'll have to wait for the word," Sarah said. "We may as well eat, and Joley can explain to all of us how she knows all about those unmarked roads and how to hike into them when Dad specifically told her not to ever go there."
Joley took a bite of her chicken and looked up into the sky. "I might point out," she said when she swallowed, "that everyone here is planning on coming here and I'll be in town behaving myself." She used her most innocent, self-righteous voice.
Even Blythe couldn't help but laugh.
17
"IT'S going to rain tonight," Blythe said, watching Viktor spread out a thick ground blanket in the backyard.
Vines grew up trellises and the wrought iron fence she'd put in more for looks than for anything else. The backyard was actually more of a courtyard, with wings of the house coming out on either side to form a U-shape.
"We won't melt," Viktor said. "In fact, we might need cooling off a little."
She couldn't help the smile. He did that. Made her smile when he said absolute nonsense. He preferred being outside. He always had, even in their early days. He'd talk her into sleeping in the garden or on the front porch rather than in the house. Now she knew why.
"Fortunately, it should be a light rain. I can feel the mist in the air already."
"It's always misty here," he corrected. "You're wearing too many clothes."
"It's not quite dark."
"It doesn't have to be dark. In fact, I prefer to see you." He flashed a grin. "We've got everything. Your wine. My beer. Cheese. Honey. Crackers. Whipped cream. A bucket of ice. Ice cream."
"That's going to melt. What in the world are you planning to do with all that?"
"Get naked, woman, and I'll show you."
It was a growl. He'd done that many, many times, and that particular tone always sent a frisson of desire creeping down her spine. He was already stripping, uncaring that the sun was sinking, that it was more orange-red across the sky than dark. She deliberately backed away from him. She was still fully clothed, was a good runner, fast, with long, ground-eating strides. She had good stamina. He was naked and barefoot already, and she knew he occasionally snuck a cigarette even though he knew he shouldn't.
She turned and sprinted for the house. He was on her in seconds. She'd barely made the steps leading up to the wraparound porch. She didn't hear him, but then his hands were on her and he tossed her easily over his shoulder so that she hung upside down, staring at his very fine backside.
Viktor took her to the blanket and set her on her feet. She was laughing so hard she almost couldn't stand upright. "Clothes, woman. Or they'll be gone."
"Gone?" She tried to be serious. He looked serious, and that wasn't always a good thing. He had something in mind.
"Gone," he said firmly.
"It's still daylight. Anyone could walk up." She knew they wouldn't. She had five acres to herself, with her house in the center of the acreage, but she wanted to tease him a little more. She liked playing and Viktor was always willing to play--with her.
One moment she was standing in her blouse and the next he caught the front of it and jerked, splitting the material in two. He dropped the pieces on the ground and caught at her skirt.
"Not the skirt. I love this skirt," she protested hastily. Her hands dropped to cover his. "I really, really love this skirt."
He yanked it down and she let it fall, kicking it aside. Her bra was gone the s
ame way her shirt had along with the scrap of lace she called panties.
"You're so crazy."
"About you." He pulled her into his arms. "I love the way you feel. All that soft skin, Blythe."
"You just like me naked."
"No, baby, I love you naked." He tipped her face up so he could take her mouth.
Her breath caught in her lungs. When he kissed her the world receded until there was only the two of them. The wind touched her body, cooling her skin when inside, her temperature soared. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts into him, fitting her naked mound tight against him so that he could feel every inch of her. He reached down and caught her leg behind her knee, lifting it to wrap it around his waist, opening her up to him.
It felt decadent. Sexy. Perfect. He kissed her over and over. These weren't his gentle, beautiful kisses that brought tears to her eyes. His mouth was aggressive, demanding, his tongue dueling with hers, stroking and teasing, his hands sliding over her body to take in as much skin as possible.
She did the same, unable to stop touching him, needing him closer, every single cell in her body alive and demanding. She wanted him right there. Right that moment. Her hand dropped to his cock, fisted the heavy girth and began to pump. He broke the kiss and took her down to the blanket in one breathless move. How he did it without hurting her, she didn't know. He was always so smooth.
"Spread your legs for me, Blythe," he whispered, his mouth traveling from hers down her throat to her breast. "And put your hands over your head and leave them there."
"I want to touch you."
"I know you do, baby, but I want to have a little fun first. My turn and then yours."
She pretended to glare at him. "It has been my experience that it never gets around to my turn when you're in this mood." Already her nipples peaked and she went damp at the idea of Viktor playing with her body. He was inventive and she always managed to get the better end of the deal.
His teeth nipped the curve of her breast and then his tongue bathed the sting. "But I always make it worth your while, don't I?"
If she was honest he made it more than worth her while, so she did as he said, but slowly, lifting her arms above her head in a stretch, so that her breasts jutted out at him. Very slowly she began to slide her legs apart. Wide. Giving him free access.
"I decided since you like clothes so much, I'm going to paint you."
His mouth kept working her breast until she was squirming, but she didn't move her hands or legs. A shiver of anticipation went through her. Warm liquid pulsed between her legs. When Viktor was in the mood to play, her body welcomed every single thing he did to her.
"You've always been so artistic," she acknowledged, wide-eyed.
"Are you being sarcastic?" His lips closed over her nipple and tugged.
She felt the streak of fire race straight to her sex. Her gaze jumped to his, but he was busy with the bucket of ice. He pulled out a small pint of Neapolitan ice cream.
"I've only got three colors, but I think I can give you some really nice clothes," he murmured as he opened the lid.
All the while he stared down at her body as if he might devour her any moment. He looked like sin itself. His eyes were dark with lust. Lines were cut deep in his face, a carnal expression that sent chills of excited anticipation through her. He was so beautiful. Like a fallen angel intent on her downfall.
He lifted a small brush a man might use for shaving cream, swirled it in the ice cream and then brushed a curving stroke over the top of her breast. She nearly jumped out of her skin. The combination of cold and the soft bristles riding over her skin sent another streak of fire straight to her sex.
"Chocolate for your bra."
"Honey," she said, her voice a breathy moan. He hadn't even gotten started and she was afraid she'd come apart.
"The canvas can't talk, and don't breathe so hard. I might mess up." He added more chocolate ice cream over her breasts, lavishing it over both heaving mounds. He swirled the brush, so that the bristles teased her skin, making her so sensitive that by the time he began to lap up the drips running down the sides of her, she cried out with each stroke of his tongue.
He took his time, which was Viktor's way. He never rushed when he was worshipping her his way. Just when she thought she couldn't stand it a minute longer, when her hips were bucking because she needed him inside her so desperately, he began to paint again.
"Vanilla for your shirt." The brush stroked along each rib and then down the center between her breasts all the way to her belly button. He put a scoop in the little indentation and lifted his head to study his work. "Hold still."
"I'm trying." She wasn't. She couldn't stop moving her hips. She really couldn't. His tongue was wicked, moving over her skin, lapping and teasing. Flicking and dancing until she thought she might scream with need.
"I want some ice cream," she groused.
He looked up from swirling his tongue around her belly button. "If I give you some, will you behave? You have to eat everything I give you without making a mess."
"I will." She loved when he looked at her that way. So dark and dangerous. So completely sinful. She needed the reprieve. Her body was on fire, coiling tighter and tighter until she thought she might go insane with need for him.
"Which flavor?"
"Strawberry," she said promptly, expecting him to take a mouthful and kiss her.
He dipped the brush in the strawberry and began painting his cock and balls. He was as meticulous with his own body as he had been with hers, putting a thick coat of the ice cream over him and then crawling up her body. He positioned his groin over her mouth.
She licked up his balls and shaft in long strokes, her tongue dancing along the underside of the crown and then swirling over the top of it. She licked frantically as the ice cream melted quickly from the heat of his body.
"Open." He growled the command. "And keep your arms above your head."
Obediently she opened her mouth, feeling vulnerable without her hands, but she knew him and trusted him. He was gentle as he pushed inside her mouth, and she closed her lips around his thick cock. She suckled strongly, her tongue flicking and swiping to find every drop of ice cream. He groaned and pushed forward with his hips, several shallow strokes, going deeper with each.
She loved the feel of him, that hard, hot length of him. He tasted of ice cream, man and his particular brand of aphrodisiac. He thrust gently several more times and then pulled out of her mouth.
"Now behave yourself. I gave you what you wanted. Let me do what I want."
"That's hardly fair," she pointed out. "I just got a small taste. You're eating the entire pint."
"You're lucky I gave you any," he said, using the brush, this time on her mound. "If you had agreed to stay home like a good girl, you might have gotten more ice cream, but you were very, very bad defying me like that. Now all those other women are involved and I have to put up with their bullshit."
He carefully painted up the inside of her thighs and then the brush was on her clit. She cried out, gripping the blanket to keep from coming apart. He laughed softly and pressed a glob of ice cream right into her burning entrance. At once his mouth was clamped over her, his tongue stabbing deep.
She nearly came apart. She actually thought she saw stars. She couldn't help thrashing around, and then she reached down to try to use her own hand. He caught her hand as he lifted his head inches from her pulsing clit to annunciate each word.
"Don't. You. Dare. Come. You wait for me," he warned. "We'll be at this all night."
He bent his head again and flicked at her clit. It felt like a lash of pure fire. Deep inside that coiling tightened until she thought she'd go insane. He licked and suckled and flicked at her until the rush threatened to overtake her. He seemed to know just when to stop before she could get there. She moaned and reached her hand between her legs again when he started a third time, desperately needing the orgasm.
Viktor lifted his head tha
t fast, rolled her over before she could catch her breath, his hand coming down in a loud smack on her left cheek. "Are you supposed to be coming?"
"I thought you were finished." She tried not to laugh, even though her body was in total overdrive. She needed the release.
The flat of his hand sent scorching heat spreading like a wildfire through her already overheated center.
"Well, I'm not. Hold still, you little liar. Your clothes can't just be on one side of your body. Spread your legs again and this time keep your arms wide out from your body and over your head."
"You're torturing me." Her breath was going in ragged little sobs now. There was no way to still her hips, not with the cool breeze on her bare bottom.
He was already painting her with ice cream, down her spine, radiating out along her ribs and in the small indentations at the curve of her spine. He spent time lapping up the ice cream and then he popped open a can of beer and poured it over the remains dripping down her back.
The ice cold of the beer after the heat of his tongue was nearly her undoing. She cried out and nearly came.
"Don't. You don't get to come yet. You have to wait for me." He left a second handprint on her skin, this one on her right buttocks. He bent to lap at the beer. "Hold still while I paint my hands on you." He used the chocolate to brush ice cream over the two handprints. "I think we should tattoo those there."
"It won't happen, so get over that one," she whispered, turning her head to the side to try to look at him over her shoulder. It was impossible. She could barely breathe. He was using the brush all over her bottom, meticulous in coating her with the ice cream. He added beer, and then his tongue was all over her, lapping it up, licking and sucking. His teeth nipped. He didn't miss anywhere, making certain he claimed every inch of her body. She knew that was what he was doing and she closed her eyes and just let him. His fingers went between her legs, pressing deep and then disappearing.
"Honey, I can't take much more," she said. She couldn't. She was going to go up in flames. She knew him. If she did, if she didn't hold back, he'd start all over. He could keep it up all night.