Soleil’s eyes went wide and shone at him. “Thank you, Ice.” Her voice was breathless. She was looking at him like he was a knight in shining armor. She didn’t see the killer everyone else saw. She didn’t see his black soul or his need for the kind of dirty, kinky sex nice girls would run screaming from.
He had to be careful not to fall under her spell. She was sweet. He’d never had sweet in his life. “Tell me the one thing you really want out of life.”
“A family.” She regarded him over the rim of her glass. “I’ve never had a family.”
“You had parents.”
“They died when I was very young, and I spent most of my life in boarding schools or hotels for holidays.” She smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes. Reality. Truth. “I think I’m really that proverbial poor little rich girl.”
So, she had money. He suspected as much, or she wouldn’t have been insisting on a prenup with that suit bastard who was going to die. He deliberately took a sip of his whiskey and she followed the action, but she didn’t really take that much of a drink.
“My club is my family,” Ice said softly and leaned in closer when Maestro stepped back and bumped him. His face was almost in her shoulder, his lips sliding along her skin as he spoke. She had the softest skin and she smelled liked heaven.
He kept his voice deliberately pitched low, intimate. “My brother and sister are my family. Never had parents that I really remember. Czar, our president, was my parent when he was ten. Looking for a woman who wants to make a life with me. Have my children. Make us a home. I’d die for my club, but I want my own woman, one worthy of living for.”
There was so much there to intrigue a woman, especially a woman who craved and needed a family and protection. He felt the shiver run through her body at the touch of his lips on her bare skin. “Been lookin’ a long time for the right woman. Not too many women want a home and family anymore.” She was compassionate. She hadn’t wanted to leave, but she wanted Alena safe.
Her eyes widened. “Ice, that’s not true.”
He shrugged his shoulders and inched forward, just enough to press his chest against her tits. They were soft. Full. He ached to pull the front of her dress down and expose those beauties, so he could feast on them. She moved her body, and her breasts moved seductively against his chest. His entire body shuddered in reaction. Hell. He was never going to pull this off if he couldn’t control himself.
“It’s true for me, princess. I talk rough. I am rough. I don’t know how to talk right to a woman.” He ran one finger down her cheek to her chin and then pretended to take another sip of his whiskey. “Torpedo Ink has a code. Once in, once you give your word, you’re held to that. Scares the crap out of women. They think all sorts of things.”
She pushed at the bottom of his glass and he had no choice but to drink it.
She smiled and put her glass to her lips and took a healthy drink. Her face was flushed, and her tits were rising and falling with every breath she drew, nipples hard little peaks, pushing at the thin material of her dress, scraping across his chest. To Ice, they felt like flames, burning through his tight tee to brand his skin. It was all he could do not to strip her bare and take her right there against the wall. He kept reminding himself he was in this for the long haul. This was no game. This was for life.
“Well,” she said softly. An invitation whether she knew it or not. “What does it mean?”
“It means you’re family. A woman takes me on, she’s family to the club. All the way in. She’s mine. All the way in. Whatever it takes to work it out.”
“No one’s like that anymore.” Suspicion edged her voice. It was there in her eyes. The hope. The disbelief.
He took her glass and handed it behind him. One of his brothers took both glasses. He was a little surprised that his glass had been empty as well. He put both hands on the wall beside her head and leaned in, creating an even more intimate cocoon.
“Unfortunately, I’m not the greatest catch. None of us are. We’re outcasts for a reason.”
She was nearly holding her breath. Not quite, but enough so her breathing sounded ragged. He liked that sound. Knew he would hear it when he fucked her brains out. It was all he could do not to take a bite out of her. Her lashes fluttered, drawing his attention to her eyes.