Authors: Christine Feehan
Those weren’t the marks that would normally set him off. Not the ones that he dreamt of putting on her, but he was more than excited to see them on her skin. He found the strength to kiss the ones he could get to.
“Are you all right, baby? Did I hurt you? I think we got carried away.”
“I think we were perfect,” Seychelle corrected.
Her hand found his head and she did a slow massage, one that he hated to miss when he stood up, but he had to take care of her. Very slowly, he slid out of her. There was blood mixed with seed and sex. He had no idea why, but the sight of that mixture gave him satisfaction. Even as he pulled out of her, that hot, slick tunnel dragged over his sensitive cock, sending waves of sensation through him where before he’d felt half-alive. He had no idea what she did to him, but it felt like a miracle.
“Stay there, baby. Let me take care of you.” He managed to find his way to the bathroom to clean up and get a warm cloth for her. He’d given her several orgasms, powerful ones, and each time he’d managed to send her over the edge at his command. That would come to be very important. He wanted her to always associate pleasure with him. Always.
Savage took his time, was meticulous in washing her before stretching out beside her on his belly, his hands framing her face. “I will love you, Seychelle, more than any other man in this world can possibly love you. I swear that to you. At the end of our days, you’ll never be sorry you took a chance with me.”
He meant every single word of that promise. Her smile was slow in coming, but it lit her face and then her eyes, taking his heart. She traced the lines cut deep in his face.
“I love you, Savage. I’ll stick with you. Just take your time with me.”
He wished they had all the time in the world and he didn’t have to worry about how his mind was so fucked up, but she already knew. “I’ll do my best, baby.” He rolled over, slid down in the bed and laid his head on her belly. His favorite place to sleep.
“Just so you know, I’m throwing those books in the garbage,” Seychelle declared, her hand on Savage’s head, fingers massaging his scalp. “They are no help at all. If they have one huge lie, maybe everything is a lie.”
He tilted his head to look up at her. “What kind of books have you been reading?”
Her blue eyes shifted away from his, long lashes sweeping down. “This and that. Self-help. That kind of thing.”
He turned onto his stomach so he could look up at her easily. “What are you trying to learn, babe?” It was a demand.
She started laughing. Little golden notes rose in a musical symphony all around, forcing him to turn back so he could watch them dance their way to the ceiling. He loved that. She could make his life like those musical notes. Floating. Drifting. Happy.
“I don’t know that much about sex, Savage. I went to the bar with the idea that we’d get together, and I didn’t want to disappoint you, so I read as much as I could. I was already on birth control, which, by the way, you should have asked me before we did anything.”
“I already knew you were. I’ve been here for a few months now. It’s not exactly a huge bathroom. You keep it in the top drawer. Why the hell are you on birth control when you weren’t sleeping with anyone?”
“I intended to sleep with tons of men.
Tons
of them. I didn’t think I had long to live, and I wanted to experience everything. I was going to be a wild woman. But then I
started meeting them and I didn’t exactly like them enough to get all sinful and dirty with them.”
It was his turn to laugh. He was shocked when silver notes rose to the ceiling, floating up in a glittering musical display. A lump rose in his throat, and he turned back over and tightened his arm around her hips. “I don’t know whether to turn you over my knee or just kiss you until you can’t think straight and won’t ever consider that again.”
“After what we did together, I don’t think I’ll be considering other men, Savage.”
He rolled, caught her waist, flipped her over him to bring her onto his lap and swatted her hard on her bottom, then put her back into the same position so he could pillow his head on her belly. She let out a squeal of protest when he smacked her hard, but only glared at him.
“That’s not a proper answer, Seychelle. The proper answer would be, ‘I will never, ever, under any circumstances consider going off with other men, Savage. The possibility won’t enter my mind.’ ”
“Is that what I should have said?”
Laughter spilled sassy little notes toward the ceiling to catch up with his silver ones, wrapping around them, intertwining like the rose sculpture she loved so much. Someday he was going to have Lissa make some kind of sculpture representing the two of them. Something beautiful she would treasure.
“That’s what you should have said. Go to sleep, you little demon. You aren’t going to be getting much sleep tonight, so be warned.”
“I don’t really understand what a run is,” Seychelle said to Lana. “Would you explain it to me? Savage is so sweet, and he’s kind of spoiled me rotten the last two weeks. Some things he explains very succinctly, and for other things I think he expects I can just read his mind. He brought up the run and said we’d be going in a few weeks, that it was important, but he didn’t really say what it was.”
She looked around the clubhouse curiously. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but not this very neat, comfortable,
large
space. This was the common room they all shared and mostly congregated in. The chairs were the most relaxing furniture she’d ever sat in. She wouldn’t mind trying to fit a couple of them in her Mini Cooper and making a getaway for her cottage.
“That’s our boy. Well, I don’t know about the sweet part.” Lana gave her a smile, but her vivid green eyes examined Seychelle’s face carefully. “You do make him happy.” She turned her head to look at Savage, who was
behind the bar, no expression on his hard features, talking to his birth brother, Reaper, and club brother Destroyer.
Seychelle didn’t think he looked happy. She thought he looked as if he was discussing murder. If that was what the three men were doing, they were keeping their heads down and doing so in low tones. Everyone seemed to be talking about the “run,” but no one really seemed to be excited about going on it.
“Seychelle, he’s really in love with you.”
Instantly, Lana had her full attention. Lana didn’t sound ecstatic. If anything, she sounded leery. In fact, the look Seychelle caught being exchanged between Alena and Lana was worrisome.
She sighed. “What’s wrong with that? Isn’t he supposed to fall in love? Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Of course,” Alena said hastily, all the while watching Savage. “Don’t get upset. He’ll know, and believe me, honey, he won’t be happy with us for getting his chicklet upset. It’s just that Savage doesn’t just love you. He’s mad, crazy, all-in, you’re-his-world in love with you.”
“That’s the way I feel about him.”
“It’s all right if you feel that way about him, Seychelle,” Lana said. “You really are sweet. Savage didn’t get that name because he’s a nice guy. Someone looks at you wrong and he could end up in prison.”
“At this run? That’s what you’re mostly worried about, isn’t it?” Seychelle guessed shrewdly. She tapped her fingers on her thigh. “He did mention several times that a lot of different clubs would be there, and he wanted me to stick very close to him and to the other members of Torpedo Ink.”
Lana nodded. “Runs can be fun, but they can be dangerous. You’re a beautiful woman, and you’ve got the kind of body men are going to be looking at. You have a voice that draws men in. Also . . .” She glanced at Alena.
Alena shrugged. “It’s no big deal. She’s Savage’s old
lady—that makes her Torpedo Ink. She can hear. I hooked up with one of the Diamondbacks. Pierce. It was stupid of me. I was lonely and he was intriguing. And hot. I kept missing our dates when I was opening the restaurant. Standing him up. He came around one night and was really upset. He talked me into making a sex video for him. I knew better, but I felt guilty and I did it. He shared it with his club, and he hooked up with a woman who used to party with all the boys here and in various other clubs. He did that while he was with me. Apparently, that’s his thing, and, you know, lesson learned. It hurt, but I’m getting over it. My brothers, not so much. They’re pretending they’re over it, but they aren’t. It’s like a powder keg ready to blow up in our faces. The least little provocation between the two clubs, and we could be on the run for the rest of our lives.”
Seychelle heard the very real worry in her voice. It was easy to see the uneasiness on their faces. She had felt the heightened tension since she’d come with Savage to the clubhouse. She thought it was because he’d brought a newcomer there.
She glanced at her watch. She was supposed to be at the bar at ten o’clock to sing with the band. She’d promised Keys and Master. Savage had been adamant that she signal to him if anyone in the crowd was really ill. He said it was important she sing tonight, and if anyone in the crowd was sick, they needed to practice their signals, and he would remove the person. There was still a little time left before she had to go.
“Savage mentioned that several of the Diamondbacks would be showing up tonight, that they had a meeting with Czar.”
Alena nodded. “That’s true. They’ll be meeting with him in the back room. Everyone else will carry on as usual. As if nothing is happening. A normal crowd will be there, just dancing and having a good time, listening to the music.”
Seychelle was suddenly very uneasy. “What would be
happening? Maybe you should just tell me what’s going on tonight. Am I some kind of distraction?” She didn’t know if she was upset by the idea or if it excited her. Seychelle, the wild girl, providing the diversion while her man and his club carried out some nefarious deed. Except she had no idea what the wicked, reprehensible deed was, and what was the fun in that?
“No one knows exactly,” Lana said. “We went to a meet recently and it didn’t pan out so well. Pierce’s new girlfriend attacked Alena.”
“We can change the subject,” Alena suggested. “What do you think of Savage’s house?”
Seychelle tried to control the color rushing up her neck to cover her face. “I haven’t seen it yet.” They’d started out the door several times, but they’d never made it. She blamed Savage. He was insatiable. Totally.
They had run out of food, though, and desperately needed groceries. Savage told her they could have them delivered, and they had, several times. Now, she knew time was getting away from them and they had to get back to the real world. He had a big meeting he had to attend. She could sing with the band, and she hadn’t visited her older friends and made certain they had all the things they needed. She felt a little guilty about that. Some of them counted on her.
“You haven’t seen his house yet?” Lana repeated, a small grin on her face.
“No.” Seychelle looked at her watch again, a little desperate for time to keep marching forward now that they were discussing things she didn’t want to get into. “I’m sure it’s quite nice.”
“I’m sure it is,” Alena said and burst out laughing. “Don’t look so apprehensive. They all have nice houses. They like ocean views, forest and privacy. That adds up to nice. You’re going to have to come to my restaurant.”
“I didn’t thank you for all the times you brought me
meals when I wasn’t doing so well,” Seychelle said. “I really appreciated it. It made me feel that someone cared. For a good part of my life I felt very alone. Even when my parents were alive, and they were very loving, they just didn’t have the energy to put out toward a child.”
“You gave your energy to them,” Lana guessed.
Seychelle shrugged. “They were my parents. I wanted them to live forever. It was hard to let them go. I didn’t have anyone else in my life. It was the three of us. Mom was so worn out, though, sometimes she couldn’t talk, so I’d just sit on the bed with her and sing to her for hours. Dad would come into the room and climb on her bed on the other side of her and snuggle too. It was a strange childhood by normal standards.”
“What’s normal?” Alena shrugged. “None of us know. We all just get by, I suppose. Here comes your man. You’ll do fine tonight, Seychelle. Just do whatever Savage tells you to do, and if anything goes wrong, stick with the band until he gets to you.”
Seychelle nodded, her mouth suddenly dry. She’d been happy, feeling like she had it all, maybe a little nervous to come to the exalted clubhouse, but still, Savage made her feel like she was extraordinary. She felt as long as they were together, they could face anything. With the dire warnings the two women had passed on to her, she suddenly felt as if she shouldn’t go on the run with Savage after all—and she’d been looking forward to it. And now, after wanting to sing with the club’s band again, she wanted to go back home and be safe in her cottage.
Savage wrapped his arm around her, pulling her under his shoulder and up tight against his side, his all-too-seeing gaze sweeping over her face. “What’s wrong, babe?” He glanced at Alena and Lana as they walked away, heading toward the back rooms. “They say something to upset you?”
His tone was low, even, but there was a small underlying
note that warned Seychelle Alena and Lana were right: Savage wasn’t going to tolerate anyone—not even his brothers and sisters in the club—making his woman uncomfortable. She tried a tentative smile but kept her eyes veiled with her lashes, knowing the man could read her like a book.
“I don’t exactly know what’s going on tonight, and the atmosphere is pretty tense. This is definitely a club thing. None of the women are here other than Alena and Lana. Are they going to be in the bar?”
“Some will be. I didn’t want to bring you, babe.” Savage walked her to the door and caught up the jacket hanging there to hand to her. “We need your voice tonight. This is important, Seychelle. I can’t stress it enough. When you first go in and look around, I want you to signal to me if there is anyone in the bar who is extremely ill or has something that is going to distract you in any way. If so, I need to know. We’ll take care of it. The club will politely get them to leave. After that, I need you to focus on the Diamondbacks. Just on them, especially the ones who will be in the back room with Czar and a few Torpedo Ink members. You can do that, right? You can feel everyone in the building, even at that distance?”
Savage held out the jacket, so she turned and put her arms into it. He always had her turn her back to him so he could slide his arms around her and zip it up. He nuzzled her neck, first with his chin, and then he trailed kisses from her neck to her ear. He tugged on her earlobe with his teeth until she had goose bumps.
There was no doubt in her mind he was as worried as Alena and Lana had been. “Did it occur to you that you should have discussed this with me before you brought me into the situation, Savage?” She turned around and tilted her chin at him, her gaze meeting his directly.
Savage didn’t look away from her. She knew he wouldn’t. His piercing blue eyes were back to glacier cold—that
dense blue that was icy and could chill to the bone. She refused to back down.
“Yeah, baby, I thought about it for a long time, but I thought it would just make you more nervous. And I don’t know what this meet with the Diamondbacks is about. Not even Czar knows. We don’t have any idea what to expect. They called a meet recently in the middle of the night, so no witnesses. That didn’t go well. This time they wanted it in the full bar, with civilians, and on a night when the band was playing.” Savage stroked caresses in her hair. “We gotta get there, Seychelle.”
“Maybe we do, honey, but I need to know what you’re going to be doing while I’m singing, and where you are, so I’m not terrified something’s going to happen to you.” She refused to budge in spite of the hand he put on her back, urging her to move out the door.
His eyes went flat. They were already cold. “Baby, you worry about the other guy, not me. Now get your ass on my bike—we’ve got to go now. I want to know you can feel us in the back room. We have to set up.”
Seychelle went with him, her stomach churning. Their “honeymoon” period was coming to an abrupt end. She didn’t say a word as she took her place behind him on the bike. The night was foggy, as it often was on the coast, but just barely. She thought of it as a gray cloud enveloping them as they made their way to the bar. What had been something she’d been looking forward to was now a little frightening—and her temper was stirring.
The bar was up the road, just below Highway 1. Above the bar were the two apartments the club owned and rented out to Bannister and Delia. There was a large parking lot in front of the terraced landscaping that wrapped around the building. A narrow path led up to the highway through overgrown grass to one side of the property. The other side was by parts parking and landscaped.
Savage had known he was taking her into a dicey
situation, and he had waited until the last minute to tell her. She was someone who had to process information. He knew that about her. Lana and Alena had cast doubts on her going on the run; in fact, she’d decided she’d just stay home while he went on it. She wasn’t going to take any chances of being the cause of Savage going to prison. And now this . . . Yeah, her temper was quite close to the surface.
By the time Savage parked the bike, Seychelle was seething. She smacked him in the back of the head as she got off, all but tossed the helmet to him and started walking toward the bar without him.
“Woman. You wait for me.”
That was a direct order. There was no doubt about it. That was Savage being the enforcer. She stopped in her tracks but didn’t turn around. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to smack the back of his head, but if she was going to be in trouble for it, she wished she’d put a little more effort into it.
She felt the heat of his body before he reached her. He was always so silent in the way he moved, like some great jungle cat stalking his prey. Her body gave a little shiver all on its own, responding to his aggression in spite of her own anger at him. He slung his arm possessively around her neck and pulled her in to the shelter of his body. He was solid muscle, a wall of sheer strength. When he locked her against him, she wasn’t going anywhere. She stood very still, waiting, trembling, but not with fear, more with a mixture of anger and anticipation.