She couldn’t keep the stars out of her eyes, or her brain. She wanted it all. She wanted the fairy tale. With him. With Ice. For this one night. Didn’t she deserve one wonderful night when not one but a group of people wanted to kill her? She nodded because she would have followed him straight into hell if he’d asked her.
“Say it, baby. Tell me you’re with me.”
“I’m totally with you,” Soleil said decisively. She dared to glance around her at the men surrounding them, waiting patiently while Ice reassured her.
Ice flashed a heart-stopping grin of approval that sent blood running like a hot, steamy river through her veins. He tucked her under his shoulder again, wrapping her arm around his waist, almost at his belt buckle. That put her fingertips dangerously close to his cock and she couldn’t help glancing down.
Her heart accelerated. Her mouth watered. There was a distinct bulge in his jeans. Not a small one—it stretched the denim to a danger point. She tried not to be so thrilled. She shouldn’t be thinking about how impressive that cock was or what she could do with her mouth to make him want to keep her with him for a long, long time, if not forever. She wanted him forever.
She would be so good to him. So good. She knew Ice was all about sex. He’d relate that way. He’d solve arguments that way. He’d expect and want sex often. She needed that from her man. She needed that to feel he wanted her, that he found her beautiful and sexy. She’d tried telling Winston that. He hadn’t wanted her. Their sex had been mediocre at best. It didn’t matter what she’d tried, Winston had barely been able to get it up for her. And he’d said he wanted to marry her.
“Why would a man pretend he wanted a woman when he couldn’t even manage to get hard around her? Does that make any sense to you?” She slapped a hand over her mouth when she realized she’d spoken aloud.
Ice gently removed her hand. “Baby, if you’re saying that limp-dick asshole couldn’t perform when he had you in his bed, I’m telling you straight up, he’s gay. Nothin’ wrong with that, but any straight man is going to take one look at you and get hard as a fuckin’ rock. Look at me, haven’t been able to calm my monster down since I laid eyes on you.”
He casually dropped his hand to the front of his jeans and rubbed, as if trying to ease the ache. His little grin was a bit boyish, as if he was actually happy his cock was hard.
Soleil wanted to rub his cock for him. She dared to drop her hand over his jeans, and he immediately took it and laid her palm over that thick bulge. Heat pressed into her. Hot and inviting. She touched her lips with her tongue. “I can’t wait.” And she couldn’t. She wasn’t trying to seduce him. She was telling him the absolute truth. She wanted him in her. Wherever. Anywhere. Just in her.
“That’s two of us, baby,” he assured.
She looked around her and realized they were walking away from the seedier streets, back toward the main boulevard. She dragged her feet. “Ice, we don’t need to go to the strip. Why are we headed in that direction?”
Winston had the cops under his thumb. A lawyer. She knew there were others, she just didn’t know where they were, but she knew they’d be looking for her. Winston couldn’t afford to let her go, not after what she’d heard.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, princess. We’ve got your back. Anyone trying to take you away from us is going to find themselves with more trouble than they’ve ever known.”
Soleil had the distinct impression not only Ice but the others would welcome a fight. She was terrified Winston would take out a gun and shoot them. If any were left alive, his cop friends would arrest them and throw them in jail. It would be her fault.
She stopped completely. “Ice, I’m not sure where you said we were going . . .”
The cool night air wasn’t helping with those screaming orgasms; instead, walking sent the liquor rushing through her bloodstream to pool low. Hot. Scorching and burning. It didn’t make sense that she was so mesmerized by Ice, other than the fact that he had a wicked tongue that could do all sorts of things to her along with his incredible fingers.
“Your fingers and mouth need to be insured. Like for millions, Ice.” She pressed her fingers to her lips again, certain she really had blurted that aloud. “I think I might really have had a little too much to drink.” She was astonished, because alcohol, as a rule, didn’t affect her.