very susceptible to his particular brand of sex. He kissed his way up her neck and then pressed another one to her nape, his other hand coming up under her left breast to hold that soft weight in his palm.
“My parents, in Russia, ran afoul of a man by the name of Sorbacov. He was very powerful and had the backing of the man he wanted in the presidency. All those opposed were made to disappear, including my parents. I was very young, a toddler at the time.”
She stirred just a little, enough to tell him she was about to stop him. He forestalled her protest by rubbing this thumb over her nipple. She liked breast and nipple play, and he wasn’t averse to cheating. There was satisfaction in feeling the shiver that ran through her body in spite of the heat of the water.
“I know this doesn’t sound like it has anything to do with that party, but it has everything to do with it—and with me—the way I am. I want you to know the real me—Steele, and why I’m Steele. Why I choose Torpedo Ink and my brothers and sisters. Why I choose you. It’s important, Breezy, so I’m asking that you’ll hear me out. Really listen to me without trying to think up shit to keep us apart. Just listen. Can you do that for me, baby?”
She let out a sigh and pressed her head against his chest. “You have no idea what you’re asking of me.”
“I do, but it’s important. Think about raising Zane with two parents. You’d have help. No matter what, Bree, you’ll be fine financially, I’ll see to that, but give us this shot.”
Their son was clearly her first priority. Steele remembered that he had been her priority. Her every thought was for him. She was made that way. Some women weren’t and that was fine, but she had a way of making him the center of her existence. He should have done the same. Now they had Zane, and Steele had no doubt that she had a big enough heart to make them both her world. She just had to let him back in.
“Just start talking. But don’t break my heart again, Steele. I’m feeling a little fragile right about now, terrified for my—our—son and I don’t think I can take much more.”
He cupped her face and turned it toward him, so she was looking at him over her shoulder. He needed to see her. To look into her emerald eyes. His heart stuttered again. Those eyes of hers, two large gems that held his heart. He could fall into them forever. He remembered all the times he’d laid her out on his bed and moved in her slowly, staring into those eyes. They were large and vividly green, surrounded by the thickest lashes he’d ever seen, lashes that matched the color of her hair.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Bree. I’d shoot myself in the heart before I’d do that again.” He’d sent her away and his life was shit. He’d had one year with her. One perfect year—or as perfect as it could be when he was riding with a perverted, fucked-up club like the Swords. That told him all he needed to know. If she made his life something to look forward to when he was with the scum of the earth, then being with her was far better than being on his own. He just needed to figure it all out. He was intelligent. He was Torpedo Ink’s strategist.
He leaned forward and took her mouth. The moment he did, the sparks were there, arcing between them. The fire poured from her mouth to his. Or maybe it was the other way around. All he knew was that his cock was once more as hard as a rock and she was kissing him back. Really kissing him. Participating. Her tongue chased his and danced and stroked, flame on flame. Velvet on velvet.
He kissed her over and over. Her nipple pebbled in his palm and he couldn’t resist stroking and then tugging. She gasped into his mouth, her body stirring beneath the hot water restlessly. He dropped his hand to slide it down her tummy and curl two fingers into her. That tempting sheath was hotter than her mouth.
Again, it was Steele who pulled back, forcing himself away from that path he took with her. He could—and would—win her back with sex if that was his only resolution, but