Chapter 13
Solomon
Once the sex den was in ashes, I drove straight to headquarters and reported to Gus. It was no longer difficult to look him in the eye, knowing I’d done what I set out to do.
“Is it done?” the President asked.
“Yes.”
“Any problems?”
“None.”
“And the girls?” he asked, referencing Jo’s surprise visit.
“I handled it.”
Gus laughed, his large belly shaking with each gulp of breath. “You’re something else. You know that?”
“What do you mean?”
“You say it’s handed like a civilian didn’t just bust in here asking us to save her friend. I take it that friend was the girl that had you distracted the other night?”
“I wasn’t distracted.”
“Whatever you say, man,” he said, smirking.
Warren appeared, clearing his throat and nodding. “It’s time for the vote.”
I turned towards the door. I knew the drill. I had to wait outside while the vote was taken. Like always, it had to be unanimous and when they called me back in, they would take my cut from me. After that was the unknown. Either they would cut off the prospect patch and hand it back to me or never give it back. It was stressful as hell and, despite fulfilling my mission, I was on edge.
Had I done enough? Worked hard enough? Shown them just how loyal to the cause I was? I couldn’t be sure.
Minutes later, I was called into the room. That had to be the fastest vote ever. And I was uncertain whether that was a good thing or bad.
Each male around the table glared at me, giving no hints to my fate.
“Solomon Donovan…” Gus, held his hand out for my cut.
I held my breath and waited as his knife slipped the thread holding the patch to the leather.
“… You’re in.”
“Yes!” The widest smile stretched the muscles of my face.
Catching the vest Gus threw back at me, I slid it on. My brothers stood, clapping me on the back in celebration. Warren handed me my member patch to be sewn on later. Unlike my prospect patch that went on the back, my member patch would be in the front, right over my heart.
I did it. I was finally a member. It felt so good to have the prospect patch replaced. It had been a long year. Men had come and gone—not that I was complaining. Phil, in my opinion, just wasn’t cut out to be a Bandit.
“From now on, we are your brothers and you are our brother. You shall now be known as Ghost.”
“Ghost! Ghost! Ghost!” they chanted, pumping their fists in the air and pulling me into hugs.
I thanked every man in the room.
“Your initiation party will be tonight. Do you prefer brown or white liquor?” Gus asked.
“I’m gonna go with brown. White will kill you.”
Evan laughed while his twin shook his head.
Ethan yelled out, “Pussy.”
“Do you prefer blondes or brunettes?”
I thought about the brown-haired girl waiting on me. “Nah, man. I don’t want a big party.”
“What?” Jerry looked as if I’d broken a sacred law while Warren shook his head and Gus laughed.
“I saw this coming. He don’t want one ‘cuz he’s in love,” my President said.
“Jesus fucking Christ. What is this shit? Is there something in the water?” Jerry said, throwing his hands up.
“It does seem to be going around,” Dead Shot said.
I smirked. “I’m not in love. I just have a girl I’m sweet on.”
“So you got an old lady.” Warren wasn’t asking.
I thought about it and I wasn’t sure how Jenny would feel about this whole thing. She was a college girl. Would she be okay with an outlaw for a boyfriend? Could she learn to care for me past that superficial stuff?
“I don’t know yet. But I’m going to find out,” I said, bumping fists with the men I passed on the way to the door. “Later, guys.”
I revved my bike loudly before taking off.
Jenny had lost her phone after the debacle at the club and I had no way of knowing if she got a new one. I didn’t like the idea of popping up at her house, but I needed to see her.
I pulled up to the house just as she was climbing into the car with her roommates.
“Solomon.”
She got out of the car and dashed toward me. Her warm smile was the sweetest welcome. I could get used to this.
“Hey, babe.”
Jo looked at us from the passenger side window. I couldn’t see Sarah, but I assumed she was the one driving.
“You mind taking a day off for me?” I asked Jenny.
“Not at all.” Turning to her friends, she yelled, “You guys go without me.”
I dismounted and walked up the driveway with her hand in mine.
“Nice to finally meet you, Jo.” I leaned over and through the window said, “Hi there, Sarah.”
“Hey, Solomon,” Sarah said softly before putting the car in reverse. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be seeing you around.”
“Bye, guys.”
Jenny waved them off and excitedly pulled me into their home.
“Stay right here,” she said, holding her hand out for me to stay before taking off to the backroom.
I figured she was cleaning and making sure no girlie shit like panties or pads were out. I thought it was kind of cute how she wanted to make sure I didn’t see her place in a mess, but she was taking too long.
“Jenny,” I called out, stalking towards her bedroom.
I needed her yesterday, and finally there was nothing standing between us. Not my patch and not her roommates.
She popped up from the bathroom and smiled. “Sorry I just had to—”
I didn’t let her finish. My mouth claimed hers. She mumbled my name, giving me just enough room to slide in my tongue. She moaned against me and I wrapped my arms around her more tightly. She wasn’t the only one feeling the heat.
I picked her up, kicked the door behind me closed, and walked the few feet to her bed.
“What do you want?” I asked, taking in her body.
She had on one of those long cotton dresses that clung to her every curve.
“You.”
That was the only answer I wanted to hear. I couldn’t help grinning wickedly before kissing her again. My hands covered her body, pulling at her hardened nipples through the soft fabric. She made sexy little sounds as my hands slid through the slits in her dress and cupped her sex.
So heat hot. So wet.
She rubbed against me like she was in heat, probably unconscious of how bad she wanted it.
“Take them off. Please. Take them off.” She tugged at my clothes.
She was in a rush; I wasn’t.
I took my time, dotting butterfly kisses down her neck. She arched her back, giving me more access to lick, bite, and suck as much as I wanted. I moved to her collarbone and she moaned again, grinding against me. I slid lower, bunching her dress up as I went until she lifted her arms and the soft material floated away with no resistance.
I paused at her cute belly button and French kissed it. I felt her dampened panties get even wetter against the palm of my hand.
“Please,” she begged, quivering beneath me.
I chuckled and bit her nipple, causing another warm flush in my hand. She was dripping and I hadn’t even really touched her pussy yet. I looked up at her with my mouth sucking on her creamy skin. She screamed when I moved to bite her nipple and rubbed against me again, trying to fuck herself on my hand.
“I don’t think I can wait,” she whimpered.
She must be inches from her orgasm. Which was right where I wanted her.
I moved quickly, tore her panties in two. Then I licked and sucked Jenny like she was the last thing to eat on earth. She tasted so good. It was almost too much—the way she held onto my head, writhing underneath me and crying out but riding my face even harder. It wasn’t long before my tongue and lips brought her to her climax.
“Yes. Yes. More. Solomon,” she said, tipping over the edge.
I swallowed it all, kissing her sensitive clit until her breath returned to normal.
“God. You taste so fucking good.”
She lay still with her arm covering her face as I stood. Perhaps she was embarrassed, but I loved it. There was nothing to be ashamed of.
From here, I could see countless of canvasses and sketch books stacked against the wall.
“You’re an artist.”
“What?” She peeked at me from under her arm. Seeing what I was looking at, she sat up. “Oh yeah. The three of us are.”
I grabbed the sketch pad beside her bed and flipped through it before stopping on her last picture. I stared at it without saying a word. It was easy to see yourself and note the small distinctions that make you unique, but to have someone else do it, especially someone that didn’t know you, it was unsettling. It made me feel seen… vulnerable.
Jenny had drawn me through her eyes, and according to her… I was beautiful. My scar didn’t look as menacing. My eyes didn’t look daring. They looked like they were searching. Which was how I felt when I’d met her. I had been looking for many things and ironically, she was one of them.
“You’re really good.”
“You think so?” she asked, chewing her lip.
I lay back against the bed, taking the sketchbook with me. “I know so. I have tattoos. I know good art when I see it.”
She pulled the sheet up to cover her body while I continued page by page, looking at the details. There were many sketches of me. Mostly my face at different angles. Some were wrong. Some were pieces of me, like she could only remember certain parts of me.
“You’re really talented.”
“Thanks. You’re really good inspiration.”
“Is that what you were looking for?”
“Uh-huh,” she said shyly. “Does it make you feel weird?”
“Nope. Makes me feel noticed.”
She looked at me uncertain. “How could I not?”
I didn’t know how to answer her question. Plenty of people ignored me. My own mother had.
“Can I draw you?”
“Now you’re asking?” I said jokingly.
“Well, it’s just… I need more. I have this final project coming up and you’re my muse.”
“Sure.” I felt honored. And somewhat nervous. “What do I need to do?”
“Come here,” she said, pulling me towards her until my head was in her lap. “Now don’t move.”
She slid the pencil from the spiral on her sketch pad and began to draw.
I stared up at her while she was lost in her work, seeing things I’d never noticed before. She had a mole on her chin and long eyelashes. She chewed her lip when she was nervous and when she was thinking.
I didn’t know how long I lay on her lap listening to her breathe and being lured to sleep with the rise and fall of her stomach, but I couldn’t take too much of her staring so deep into my soul. The pencil made little sounds against the paper.
“Okay. I’m almost done,” she said with the tip of her tongue sticking from the corner of her mouth.
“Ok. See?” She turned the pad around for me to take a look.
The drawing stole my breath and heated my skin. Suddenly my defenses were just paper, like the paper she’d drawn me on. The real me was on it, without any frills. I could see my own vulnerability, the brokenness and longing in my eyes. Yet somehow I looked whole and beautiful, and like art instead of the castaway I thought I was.
My eyes moved from the page to her. Seconds passed. My brain took her in, struggling to comprehend how she got me. I couldn’t formulate any thought besides the one demanding me to touch her.