Vendetta Road

by Christine Feehan

Soleil made a spectacular entrance in her long white gown, walking like a model on a runway. She was used to walking in heels, and these were a good four inches high. The leather cutouts went up her ankle and partway up her calf. The heels made her legs look like they went on forever. With the chiffon skirt parted almost in the middle, her right leg showed all the way up her thigh. Catching glimpses of her left leg was just plain erotic and made her feel that way. She knew how to work a dress. She’d been wearing designer clothes since she was a teen.

  Then there was that peekaboo fabric that went down the entire left side of her body. The dress had a halter top, with a dramatic slashing vee down the front so that the rounded curves of her full breasts showed to perfection. The material was draped over both breasts, yet moved as she walked, a sexy, erotic feel the designer had clearly created the dress for.

  It was easy enough to feel sensual in a gown designed for that purpose walking in on a man’s arm, when that man was as gorgeous and as sexy as Ice, especially when he was looking at her with lust-filled eyes.

  * * *

  Ice thought she was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. He loved walking into the bar with her, watching the faces of the bikers who were drinking and partying in true biker fashion. One by one they turned their heads and took in his sexy, elegant woman, who had eyes only for him. He stopped in the middle of the room, caught her to him and kissed the hell out of her.

  His kiss was all about ownership. Possession. The moment his mouth touched hers, fire leapt between them. He couldn’t disassociate from the scorching flames pouring through his veins, a rush that was real. More than real. Heat swirled through him like a storm, racing to his lungs so he had to fight for air, to his heart, so he had to fight to keep from drowning in the depth of feeling she was creating between them.

  He hadn’t known a man could feel so overwhelmed by a woman, or by his emotions for her. He didn’t have them. Not for outsiders. Not for women. He pretended to have them. His life was all about pretense, to his brothers, to his sisters. To himself. She was wrapping herself around his heart and invading his mind. This wasn’t pretense. This was as real as it fucking got.

  No one got close to him. No one, especially an outsider, could see into his soul. That would be a mistake for both of them, yet she was doing just that. How? He didn’t know. He had to take control back. She didn’t have it. She was his. His possession. She would stay with him and keep the demons at bay, but on his terms. It had to be that way for his survival—didn’t it?

  His hand slid down the enticing curve of her ass. He palmed the chiffon-covered cheek, knowing she was bare beneath the material. She didn’t try to move away from him or stop him. She hadn’t since she’d first entered the bar. He kissed her again just because she was so perfect, and he felt far more in control when he turned things between them back to sex. He could handle sex. There wasn’t anything he didn’t know about sex, and he could keep her under control easily as long as they stuck to the plan.

  “Come on, princess, the brothers set up a party for us. Drinks, cake, dancing. We won’t stay long.” He whispered it in her ear and then stepped to her side again.

  The sides of her halter top had slipped just a little when he’d kissed her, when he’d moved his body tight against hers, so he could feel her hard nipples as he rubbed against her. The way he’d shifted his body had pushed one of the strips just a little more to the side, revealing the round curve of her tit and a shadow of her nipple. Just a glimpse. Sexy as hell.

  As he walked toward the back room, he slid his hand under the chiffon swath and over that full, round curve. His thumb found her nipple and stroked. She looked up at him and smiled. He fucking loved that she didn’t push his hand away or cover up, even knowing her breast was partially exposed and anyone looking could see he was stroking and pinching her nipple. Making a statement. Showing her off. Making cocks hard but knowing she was going home with him. Just thinking about the way other bikers looked at her made his cock so hard he thought he might shatter. She had eyes only for him, and that turned him inside out.

  The game room of the bar had been transformed. The cake was there for them to cut and the others to eat. How the hell that had been managed at the last second, he didn’t know. Maybe Vegas sold premade wedding cakes twenty-four/seven. Soleil’s eyes lit up and she smiled at him as if he were magic and had managed it all on his own.

  Taking her hand, he led her inside the game room and immediately pulled her into his arms to dance with her to the blaring music. It was his kind of dance, holding her close, her body moving against his, his cock hard against her soft little mound while her head rested on his chest.

  “You know what’s a huge turn-on for me, baby?” He placed his lips close to her ear, so his every word brushed caresses over her sensitive lobe. Warm air was a steady assault as well.

  She nuzzled his neck. Her teeth teased his throat and then she was pressing little kisses over his neck. “Tell me.”

  “I like other men seeing what’s only mine. I like knowing they want you. That you’ve got their dicks so fuckin’ hard they have to go find their own woman or jerk off alone. Doesn’t matter how they get relief, only that they have to. You do that, you know. You’re so fuckin’ sexy that you make cocks hard as a rock.”

  Using his hand, he curled hers against his chest, inserting their joined hands between her breasts so he could use a finger to rub over the enticing curve of her exposed tit and then over her nipple.

  “You’re so hot, Soleil. So damn hot, you’re on fire. Anyone can see that. Did you feel their eyes on you when we walked in? All those men, hungry for you?”

  “I felt your eyes on me. That was what mattered to me. I like you looking at me. I like when I know you’re hard and that you find me sexy.”

  “You didn’t answer my question, baby. It’s important. Did you feel them looking at you? Hungry for you?”

  She kissed the side of his neck, her teeth nipped his earlobe, sending a small bolt of lightning through his body to his cock. “Yes.” She whispered it. “It was hot. I liked it, but I don’t want anyone else close to me.”

  “I wouldn’t ever let another man touch you. Not ever. I like them looking, but not touching. We have some crazy parties, babe, not like this one, this is for us, but at home when the other clubs come, that’s when it gets hot. Or when we go on runs. You don’t ever have to worry, I won’t let anyone touch you.” He kept rubbing her nipple and then over the curve of her breast.

  She kissed the hollow of his throat, a small shiver going through her body. “That feels so good, Ice, so sensual.”

  “What, princess?” He wanted her to say it aloud, tell him so he could remind her. He also liked hearing the words. From her. Any other woman he wouldn’t be giving his attention to the way he did her. He didn’t know why it was so important to him that she feel good and that he was the one making her feel that way. He needed her to voice it, to tell him out loud.

  She didn’t disappoint him. “When you rub your finger over my nipple like that. When you pinch and then stroke it. It’s like fire arrowing straight to my clit. It’s very sexy knowing you’re doing that while we’re dancing and no one else knows.”

  “You like me touching you like this? Even in a roomful of people?”

  “I love it. No one has ever made me feel the way you do.”

  He moved slower, finding the rhythm of the music with his knuckles on her tit. “How do I make you feel?”

  “Like a princess. Someone beautiful and sexy. I’m not really, you know. I don’t want you to ever be disappointed.”

  “Baby, you got on your knees in a fuckin’ clothing store for me. Because I needed it. You could never disappoint me. Not to mention you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met and sexy as hell on top of it. I’ll keep tellin’ you that until you believe me.”

  She laughed softly, her breath warm on his throat. “You�
�ll have to tell me for a long, long time. I don’t think the night is long enough.”

  He tightened his arm around her, pressing her body into his. She was finding her way somewhere deep inside him regardless of how hard he tried to make their relationship about sex. He didn’t know anything else. He didn’t have anything else to give her. She was bright like the sun, like her name. She was truly elegant, a princess stumbling into a monster’s path.

  His hand pressed hers deeper into his chest, this time over his heart. He was called Ice for a number of reasons, but the biggest was because he was truly ice inside. A glacier. Deep, wide, dense, impossible to penetrate. He thought his heart was encased in ice. He thought his emotions long since frozen, but she was changing everything, including his perception of himself.

  He felt protective of her. He didn’t have to pretend. There was happiness, and he didn’t fake that either. It was there, like a light piercing the darkness in him.

  “Do you know what you’re doing to me?” He whispered the question, half hoping she didn’t hear it above the music.

  Her face was turned up to his throat and she brushed another kiss there, and then a series of them, so light, like a feather whispering along his collarbone. Each kiss was so barely there, and yet he felt each one like a brand, burning through his tee straight through his flesh to bone.

  “I hope I’m really your princess in the fairy tale we’re sharing tonight. I want to be that for you. Everything. I want to be your everything. You make me feel as if I’m somebody special. I want you to feel that, because, for me, you are. You’re my everything.”

  She sounded so sincere. So certain. He was certain she was drunker than he’d thought. He’d pushed the drinks on her. She was still standing, and her words weren’t slurred. He was actually quite surprised that she wasn’t acting drunker. She definitely knew how to drink.

  Ice couldn’t help but love what she’d said to him. He was her everything. He wanted to be that. For tonight, he was going to let her be his. His everything. He’d promised her a fairy tale, she was only giving one back to him. In his fairy tale, his woman didn’t mind his needs; in fact, she got off on them.

  The song ended, and he was careful, as he stepped back, to make certain the material of her dress was back in place, covering her gorgeous body. Those tits. Hell. He was a breast man for certain. He hated covering her up, but he wanted this night to be perfect for her—not him, although it was fast becoming that. He couldn’t remember ever feeling the things he was feeling, especially with such overwhelming intensity.

  He had ice in his veins. He wanted to have the emotions he pretended to have, but the truth was, he’d lost all that long ago. He’d traded his soul, and living like a man, for a zombie life. He went through the motions, and that allowed those around him to be happy, but there was only that cold, cold place inside left for him. Until her. Soleil. Somehow her sun extended to him, finding that place inside of him and thawing the ice. He was out of his depths, but willing to go there with her, at least for tonight.

  His brothers gathered around them, congratulating them. Ice was pounded on the back until he thought he might have to punch a few of his brothers to get them to stop. They grinned like hyenas, giving him a bad time. A few told him they weren’t certain just who had done the seducing. He had to agree. She was so damn sexy, there was no resisting her. A few others thought she’d gotten him a little more drunk than he’d gotten her. Others asked him what in the hell he was going to do with her when she was sober. He didn’t quite know. He hadn’t gotten that worked out yet, but he was thinking on it.

  He found himself enthralled with her. Her laughter. The way she moved. She listened to every single one of his brothers as if whatever they said was important. Through it all, she had eyes only for him. She looked at him as if she could see inside him, past the glacier, penetrate deep and see the man he could have been.

  He wrapped his arm around her waist when they called for cutting the cake. “Are you having fun?”

  “Way too much. I think I need to stop drinking. You’re drinking mostly water while I’m actually having screaming orgasms. They’ve become my favorite drink.”

  He wished he could drink screaming orgasms with her, but he had work later on and he wanted her to enjoy her night. More than that, he wanted to make certain he could perform at his best. She wasn’t going to be able to say he drank too much and couldn’t fuck. Hell, he could do that drunk or not with her.

  Her eyes were bright, shining at him with laughter. That mouth of hers—he was never going to be able to look at her again without needing to kiss her or slide his cock in that warm haven.

  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 th
e 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.

  He locked his arm around her waist and pulled her tighter against him, forcing her to bend backward just enough for him to have even better access. Everything faded away for him. Everything, until there was only Soleil and her soft body. His demons died down and then stopped tormenting him. He didn’t hear or see anything but her. He didn’t think about enemies or killing or hear the cries of children. There was only Soleil and her gorgeous tits, his fierce cock and the sounds she made filling his mind.

  “Get a room,” Storm ordered.

  His twin’s voice startled him. He was that far gone, and that had never happened to him before. He reluctantly lifted his head, flipped off his brother and took her straight to the room. The moment the door was closed and locked, he spun her around and very gently unhooked the halter top and let it fall in a graceful shimmy of chiffon and peekaboo down to her waist. His breath caught in his throat. She was truly beautiful. He knew the female form. He’d been introduced to it early and taught to admire and revere it.