Vengeance Road Read online

  He gripped her hips and pulled her back into him as he surged into her again and again, losing himself in her body. Losing his demons, driving them away for the priceless time he had. He’d lost her, so he knew what it was like without her. He knew he needed her far more than she would ever need him, and he was okay with that. He didn’t have a lot to give her. He didn’t know the first fucking thing about relationships, only that he’d screwed theirs up.

  Her breath was coming in little sing-song sobs and he slid his hand up her back to her nape and then around, so his palm cupped her throat. “Not yet, baby. Hold on for me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “A little longer. Hold on for me.” He knew she would. She always had, although the fire was so much hotter. Her body was tighter than ever, gripping and squeezing until he thought he might go insane. He felt her heart beat against his palm. It was there in the fiery silk of her sheath, beating around his cock. That fire. That beat. That breath. His again. His chance at having it all when in his life, there was no such thing as living.

  “I’m going to give you fucking everything, Bree,” he whispered, meaning it. The world. Whatever he could to make her happy. He’d get their son back, and he’d find a way to keep from screwing things up again with her.

  “Just get there.”

  He loved that little demand in her voice. His woman. Bossing him. She always did that at the end, when she was desperate for release and he was holding her on the edge. He moved in her, his cock so hard, so in need, surrounded by her. That perfect moment, balancing on the edge. He thrust hard again and again, feeling the exquisite tightening of his balls, the fire moving like hot magma through his body. He threw his head back.

  “Now, baby. Let go now.”

  She obeyed immediately, her body clamping down hard on his, gripping his cock, constricting the blood flow for a moment, her body that tight. Then he was exploding, rocketing into her, the release flinging him to a place where nothing could touch him. Nothing. Not his demons. Not the whispering voices of the dead. Not the ones he’d failed. There was only Breezy and this—paradise and the reprieve that only she gave him.

  Her soft little cries tugged at his heart. Gave him satisfaction. He loved when Breezy came, when her body was right there with his, and he knew no one knew her the way he did. No one knew what she liked or needed the way he did.

  He held her up, his cock pulsing in her, feeling every ripple. Every powerful aftershock. This was the moment he had to be the most careful of. He could lose her right here. She would try to distance herself from what they had together. He couldn’t blame her, there was too much unsaid between them. There were things he didn’t want her to know. Even now, through her hurt, she looked at him as if he were someone amazing and special. If she really knew him, she wouldn’t. He wanted to keep that look, but there could be no half measures this time. If he demanded her commitment, then he had to do the same.

  He wrapped his arms around her, holding her steady when he could feel her shaking, as he withdrew. He hated leaving the haven of her body. For a moment, he rested his head against her back and then pressed kisses down her spine.

  “Thank you, baby, for believing me. I know that was difficult for you. I needed you more than I needed to take my next breath.” He had no problem telling her the truth of that. There were things he didn’t want to share, but she needed to know—to be reassured after the vile things he’d said to her—that she was his world.

  He kept his arm around her waist as she straightened slowly. Very gently he guided her across the room to the wide, deep bathtub. He turned on the ridiculous golden taps before he settled her on the bench beside the tub. She wasn’t looking at him, and her breathing hadn’t settled. She was definitely gearing herself up to run or at least try to distance herself.

  “Steele.”

  There it was. The warning in her voice. He let her have her say because, God knew, he deserved whatever she wanted to throw at him.

  “Just because we . . .”

  She waved her hand at him to include his cock, which was still at half-mast. It had been too fucking long, and his release had been a volcano, but there was so much more. Three long years of more.

  “We’re not going to get back together. I’m not going to lie to you and say the attraction isn’t there because obviously it is. But we can’t go back. I’m not the same person, the one that you wanted.”

  He was silent, listening to the water pour into the tub. Listening to his heart beat. This was too important to jump in with protests and risk saying the wrong thing. Every word had to be what Breezy needed. He had to choose wisely. He was walking through a minefield, but he excelled at that. He excelled at strategy.

  He sat on the edge of the tub, letting her look at his body. The scars she was so familiar with that he’d never explained. The tattoos covering most of them. Her name wound through the lock and key he’d had Ink put on him after she was gone. He saw her eyes widen when she realized it was there and he had to have had it done some time after she left. He wanted her to think about that and the pictures of her he had on his phone.

  “I have a lot of explaining to do, Bree,” he said.

  She shook her head quickly, one hand going defensively to her throat. His palm had been there, feeling every beat of her heart.

  “Don’t, Steele. You don’t need to explain anything to me.”

  He kept his face an expressionless mask, but triumph burst through him. She was terrified to listen to him because she knew he could persuade her. She wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her, and it wasn’t all sexual the way she wanted to make him believe.

  “I know. You’ve never asked for that, but you deserve to know. I couldn’t tell you before, when I wanted to. When we were together, and you were all mine. Essentially, I was undercover. I couldn’t even tell you my real name.” He ignored the fact that she all but fell off the bench shaking her head to prevent him from giving that to her. “It’s Lyov Russak. Clearly, I’m Russian. I wanted to drag you to the nearest courthouse and put a ring on your finger, but I couldn’t break cover or tell you I was Torpedo Ink and we were bringing down a human trafficking ring.”

  Deliberately he reminded her of what Evan Shackler-Gratsos had been doing with his perverted ways of making money rather than tell her the end game had been his assassination. He wanted her to think about those women and children they’d saved. The little boys, so like his brothers and sisters. So like him.

  She made a small sound and pressed her fingers to her lips. That was a habit she’d acquired to remind herself to stay silent when she was afraid. She held herself very still now, becoming the little mouse she thought no one could see. He always saw her. He held out his hand to her, detesting that she relied on being frozen and small like prey. She was his and under his protection, and he had started teaching her how to defend herself. He wanted her confident. He wanted her to be able to stand up to anyone—including him.

  She put her hand in his and stood. There was satisfaction in seeing her gleaming thighs, his seed coating them. He loved that. Loved that he was on her skin.

  “There are hair ties in the drawer there. Your favorite kind. Those scrunchy things as well. I put them there after I furnished the house, hoping you’d be here someday to use them.” He indicated the acrylic drawers stacked to one side, with their towels and everything he knew she liked in her bath. Breezy loved baths. He had introduced her to bath salts and fizzing bath bombs. She loved citrus scents, and he’d stocked up on the ones he knew she’d like. He bought her small things because she loved the little things more than extravagant gestures like multimillion-dollar homes. He’d supplied the bathroom with everything he knew she would feel was a luxury and more. Things he wanted to introduce to her.

  He watched her put her hair in a high ponytail and then a messy knot on top of her head. Immediately, Steele helped her settle into the large t
ub. He stepped in behind her, forcing her body forward so she was sitting between his legs. He pulled her in tight to him. He liked her close. She’d always liked being close, but now she tried to hold herself away from him, and he wasn’t having that.

  He tightened his arm until it was a bar locking under the soft weight of her breasts, and he tugged until her body was right up against his. Until his cock was pressed tightly against the tattoo he’d designed for her. His ink on her. That statement proclaiming to any other man who dared touch her that she belonged to him.

  “I want to talk about the party and the aftermath you walked in on.”

  She stiffened, but he refused to release her. Instead, he put his head on her shoulder. She made a single sound, but it pierced his heart like an arrow. Straight through. Fuck. He’d hurt her so much. So, so much.

  “Breezy, baby, I know this is difficult for you. I know that, but I swear to you on everything that matters to me, I’m going to tell you the truth and answer any questions, so we have a chance. That’s what I’m asking, one chance. For our son. For me. Especially for me.”

  She remained silent and still, holding herself as if one wrong word would make her shatter.

  “You saw the pictures on my phone. I didn’t just manufacture those out of thin air. You saw my ink, right over my heart. The lock and key with your name in the barbed wire and roses. Only you, Breezy. That’s what it says. That’s what it means. I belong to Breezy Simmons. I want to belong to Breezy Russak. The things in this house, I bought them for you before you ever showed up. Give me this chance, baby.”

  There was a long silence. He heard his heart beating. Hard. Aching. Fear gripped him, turning his stomach to knots.

  “You tore me apart, Steele,” she admitted in a small voice. “Completely and utterly apart. I didn’t think I could survive, and I didn’t even know if I wanted to. Until Zane. Until I knew I had that little part of you. I don’t think I can go through that again.”

  His heart stuttered. She hadn’t known she was pregnant when she left. She might have had a woman’s intuition, but she didn’t know for certain. If she had, she might have told him, and he would have found a better way to keep her safe.

  “Hear me out. That’s all I’m asking.”

  “I don’t know if I can believe you.”

  He knew that wasn’t it. She was afraid she would believe him.

  “I’m a damn good liar, baby. And I can con anyone. But this is us. You and me. You’re my world and I want you back. I’m giving you everything if that’s what you want, and trust me, Bree, it’s damned hard to tell you some of the things that need to be said.”

  “There’s the club. I don’t want that life. I don’t want it for me or for Zane.”

  “You saw Czar’s family. You saw the way they were together. We aren’t the Swords. We’ll never be that club or treat our women and children the way they do.” Before she could protest, he bit her shoulder gently and then tugged at her earlobe. Keeping his voice a husky whisper, he continued. “In any case, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s start with the party.”

  Before anything, he had to get those three women he’d partied with out of the way and hope she believed him. If he couldn’t put that to rest, nothing he said after would matter because she’d always come back to that one moment. He cursed himself for hurting her.

  She didn’t reply, but she stopped straining away from him. He felt the little goose bumps on her skin and tasted her excited heartbeat on his tongue when he used his teeth and lips on her. She was 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 his 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 when he had been her priority. Her every thought had been 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 she deserved explanations, and he wanted more than a one-sided relationship. If she didn’t truly know him, and know why he was so fucked up, the chances of him screwing things up were far more than if he just came clean.

  NINE

  “The water’s cooling, Bree,” Steele pointed out. “Let’s get out of here and go down to the spa. It’s hot, and I want you to see the ocean from that view.”

  “You do know this house would be impossible to clean. Even if we did do this, Steele, we couldn’t live here. It’s beautiful but intimidating. I d
on’t know the first thing about taking care of a mansion.”

  “You don’t have to take care of it, baby.” He stood up, pulling her with him. He loved the way the drops of water shimmered on her skin. “We’ll have help come in. Cleaners. We have plenty of social space to have everyone over, and when we throw a party, it will be mostly outdoors where we have the fireplace and barbecue. I’m pretty damned good with a barbecue.”

  She just shook her head and took the large towel he handed to her, drying off without a hint of being self-conscious. He’d done that—made her comfortable in her own skin when she was with him. They stepped out of the large, room-size bath, and she looked around for her clothes.

  “Leave it. You’re not going to need clothes in the spa. There are extra towels in an outside linen closet. We can grab them if we need them and I can turn on the fireplace out there for additional warmth if you just want to sit outside while we talk.”

  She glanced around the bedroom and then nodded. “The fireplace.”

  He knew she chose that because she thought she’d be safer. She wasn’t, not from him. Not when his cock was still raging and she was right there, all soft skin and gorgeous body. He liked breasts, and she had them. He particularly loved the shape of her ass and the way she looked walking away from him. She had curves, more since she’d had the baby. He shut down that thought because he didn’t dare think too much about Zane in the hands of the Swords club, not and keep his sanity. He had to concentrate on winning his lady back and making sure Zane had a home and two parents to come back to.

  It was still early afternoon and the sun was shining brightly. The fog had burned off. He knew the wind would come in off the ocean, because it often did, but the chairs in front of the outside fireplace were comfortable and the house curved around on either side, providing a good shelter. The patio was enormous, and the area in front of the fireplace was spacious.

  He’d thought about barbecues with his brothers and sisters, not parties with other clubs. He didn’t want wild at his house, he was too fucked up for that. Breezy, like him, preferred clean. Neat. She would oversee the house and make certain it was the way he favored because she wanted it the same way.