He’d bought her a dress worth nearly twenty thousand dollars. She’d let him do that. All that money. The chapel. A party with a wedding cake. She’d really done it. She’d gotten him drunk enough that he’d signed her prenup and married her.
His twin sat there thinking it was a huge joke when poor sweet Ice had been taken such advantage of. She dropped her pounding head into her hands. Her head hurt so badly, but she knew she hadn’t gotten drunk. Tipsy, maybe, but not drunk. She couldn’t even claim drinking as an excuse for her behavior. Fear for her life, maybe, but not alcohol. Guilt overwhelmed her. She didn’t have Kevin to sort things out.
She peeked through her fingers, her gaze searching the room. There was a leather jacket over the back of a chair. It said “Torpedo Ink” on it and had a tree, skulls and ravens on it. Ice had that same tree, skulls and ravens tattooed on his back. She’d traced every bit of it with her tongue. It was beautiful on him. Not only had she married a stranger, she’d married a biker. Because when she screwed up, she didn’t do it by halves.
“I need to get up. Would you mind leaving?” She used her most reasonable voice. She didn’t dare show panic when inside she was shaking like a leaf and wanting to put the blanket over her head.
“Can’t do that, honey,” he said. “Ice asked me to look after you while he’s getting ready. We’re leaving soon. Need to get back home.”
That was such a relief. She felt like she could breathe. “I’m Soleil, but I guess you know that. You’re . . .” she prompted.
“Storm. Ice’s twin.”
The water went off in the shower, and her heart started pounding all over again. She touched her tongue to her dry lips. “I clearly didn’t drink enough water last night.”
“Ice left you a couple of aspirin and a bottle of water on the nightstand there.”
She glanced over, and sure enough, there was a cold bottle of water and a couple of white pills sitting on a tissue. She stretched her arm out from under the covers. “Where is home?”
He gestured toward the jacket. “Caspar. On the coast.”
She’d never heard of it. “I live in San Francisco,” she volunteered, because she couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say.
“That’s about three and a half to four hours from us. You probably know Sea Haven. Little place but very popular.”
She nodded. “I’ve actually been there a couple of times. It’s very pretty.” She rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand. “My head is killing me. I know I didn’t drink that much last night. And I don’t get drunk. I don’t get hangovers.”
“Probably mixing your drinks. Does it every time.” Storm stood up as his twin came out of the bathroom, toweling his hair dry.
Ice wore a pair of jeans that rode low on his narrow hips. His torso and abdomen were all muscle. And all scars. She could see the white lines and ridges across his skin. They didn’t detract in the least from his good looks. No man had the right to be that good-looking. His eyes met hers and instantly her stomach did a slow roll, and a million butterflies took wing. At the same time, she recognized him. Her body recognized him. She felt him all over again, waking her at least four times, his body buried in hers. She had a mini orgasm just looking into his eyes.
She was afraid her makeup was running down her face. It had to be. He looked like a model, and she looked like a wreck. He kept coming straight across the room to her, put his knee on the bed and bent down to take her mouth.
She should have pulled back. She should have protested. She did neither. She opened her mouth under the coaxing of his and then there was nothing at all but Ice. His mouth. Fire running through her veins. His tongue tangling with hers. His arms sweeping her against him. Tight. Skin to skin. Her breasts pressed into all those defined muscles. Her nipples twin flames dragging over his chest. Her arms slid around his neck of their own accord, and everything but Ice went out of her brain.
His mouth left hers and he kissed and nipped his way over her chin, down her throat to the swell of her breast. His mouth closed over her left breast while he cupped her right one in his palm, thumb stroking her nipple.
“Good morning, princess.” His voice was mesmerizing, let alone his mouth. His kisses. His hands.
“Good morning.” She was shy, when that was absolutely nuts because he’d had his mouth, his fingers and his cock inside her so many times.
“The shower’s all yours. We have to get moving, babe. We’re pulling out in under an hour. You hungry? Storm can bring you some breakfast if you are.”