“I was going to get married, have babies, spoil my husband rotten and paint. I’m good at art. Really good. I would love to have a family, but no more. Now, I’m going to go after Kevin’s killers. All of them. Cops or not. Lawyers. It doesn’t matter. I can get to them.” She nodded as if to emphasize what she believed and then turned back to the table.
She bent over the table, her dress sliding up to the backs of her thighs. She had killer legs. Killer legs. He could imagine them wrapped around his hips very easily. In fact, if he wasn’t careful, it was going to happen right there in the bar. Or he’d put her on the pool table and devour her the way he wanted. She wasn’t going to waste her life on a vendetta. She might think she knew what she was doing, but he was taking that off her hands.
His palm slipped to the back of her thigh, and he rubbed gently, soothingly. “I like the part where you spoil your man. Tell me about that. Not sure what spoiling means.”
“Haven’t you ever been spoiled?” Still bent over the pool table, she looked at him over her shoulder. Again, when she looked at him, she didn’t look drunk. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright, but she looked completely and utterly focused on him. “You’re beautiful, Ice. Truly beautiful. When I look at you, sometimes I can’t breathe. Other women must have spoiled you.”
He heard a little snicker when she told him he was so beautiful she couldn’t breathe. He sent a glare around the room. His palm never stopped sliding up and down her thigh and then finally, finally, slid around to her inner thigh. Very gently he applied pressure until she shifted her weight, spreading her legs for him. He was fairly certain she was barely aware she was doing it, but she widened her stance at his insistence. Triumph burst through him. Another sweet victory. She wanted this with him, right there, anywhere he asked. Was it the alcohol, or was it her? Was she that perfect for him?
“Never once, princess. I don’t live in an ivory tower. I live in the gutter, remember?”
She shook her head. “If you were mine, I would spoil you until you couldn’t stand it.” It was a declaration. A solemn promise. “If I didn’t have to go after Kevin’s killers, I would find a way to make you so happy you’d never want to leave me.”
He already didn’t want to leave her. Her gaze had drifted over his body, stopped and dwelled on the bulge stretching the confines of his jeans. Her tongue touched her lips. The full bottom lip glistened. His cock jerked hard. Throbbed. Pulsed. The monster wanted out, and Ice wanted it out. Her gaze stroked him like the touch of fingers.
“You like giving head, baby?” he asked, one hand still stroking up and down her thigh, and then rubbing along the seam between her thigh and buttocks, while the other cupped his raging cock. Just the thought that his little innocent angel might talk to him about blow jobs sent his dick into a frenzy of pulsing, throbbing and jerking. He was going to spill everything if they kept it up, but he didn’t want to stop.
She looked so sexy, with her innocent eyes and that skin of hers that invited a man to touch her just to see how soft it was. Then there was that mouth. That perfect, perfect mouth.
Ice pushed the hem of her dress up to her waist, exposing her gorgeous ass. He continued to use the pad of his finger to trace the seam where her cheeks met her thighs. Back and forth, a hypnotic rhythm. He wanted to drop his jeans and ram his cock home. Her mouth. Her pussy. Her ass. All of her. Claim every fucking inch. He already felt as if she belonged to him.
“Answer me, Soleil.” He poured steel into his voice.
She blinked, but she responded to his order. “Depends,” she said. “I wanted everything for my man, so I practiced until I thought I was pretty damn good. But seriously, he wasn’t worth the effort.”
“The right man?” He wanted to yank his cock right out of his jeans and stroke himself for relief. Maybe push her to her knees and have her swallow him down right there.
“On the right man, yes, isn’t that spoiling him?” She smiled at him. Sexy. Alluring. “I could spoil you every morning. I bet you taste yummy.” She turned her head back to survey the table. “What did you think spoiling a man entails?”
He couldn’t move or speak for a moment. He thought dragging her to the altar right then was the only solution. Mornings with her lips stretched around his cock sounded damn good to him. He forced air into his lungs. His fingers danced along the tempting seam between her thigh and cheek. She didn’t realize or maybe she just didn’t care that he’d pushed her skirt up above her ass, exposing her perfect cheeks. She’d look good with his handprints on that pale skin. Hell. He wanted to take a bite out of her. Instead, he palmed one cheek, letting the heat from his body warm her. She pushed back into his hand and his heart stuttered.