She was gone.
He should’ve known, the first fucking chance she had, his little bird had flown the coop. Fuck. As soon as he got his hands on her he was going to beat her senseless, fuck her until she couldn’t walk, then he was going to lock her in a cage and teach her the meaning of staying where she was put. He couldn’t believe he had slept so hard that he’d missed her slipping out of bed and sneaking out of the bedroom. He never slept like that.
Soloman didn’t bother with a shirt or underwear. He pulled on the same pair of jeans he wore the day before, tugged them up his thighs and zipped them. He took the stairs two at a time, pulling his phone out, intent on calling in backup. Roman knew how to find people. The guy was a hunter with razor sharp instincts. It was eerie. The last thing he needed was Riley going to ground again.
He was just about to hit dial when the smell of burnt bacon hit his nostrils.
“What the fuck?” he growled as he strode into the kitchen. He stopped and took a moment to just gawk at his usually pristine marble setup.
It. Was. Destroyed.
There were five pans of varying shapes and sizes in complete disarray spread all across his counters. One of the lids was on the floor. There was a bag of flour, also on the floor, but half dumped out, as though someone had tried to lift it onto the counter and realized they couldn't so just tilted it and missed the bowl. He was starting to suspect who that someone was. There were at least half a dozen eggs in various stages of cracking spread from the fridge to the sink. A carton of orange juice was laying on its side, with some of the contents dribbling lazily out.
Well that explained why she had someone in twice a week to clean her tiny condo. He had wondered when he looked into her financials. He thought she was just a total neat freak, like him. Now he saw that it was likely the opposite. Fuck. Now he knew he was in love. Instead of feeling disgust, he only thought this new quirk was adorable. He’d have to see if Richard, his housekeeper, was willing to come in more often. Or hire an assistant.
Deciding he needed to put industrial sized locks on the cupboards, Soloman headed straight for the garage. The only place that would hold Riley’s interest once her stomach was filled. His dick came immediately to life the closer he got to discovering her whereabouts. He entered the garage quietly, determined to observe her unnoticed for a few minutes.
He wasn’t surprised to find her under the hood of one of his cars, messing around with the engine of his BMW, a plate stacked high with pancakes and semi-burnt bacon perched on the battery next to her elbow. Her dark hair was loosely knotted on top of her head with tendrils floating down around her face. She wore only her Sketchers and one of his white dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up so she could reach deep into the car. The shirt landed about mid-thigh on her until she leaned forward. Then it rode up to the top of her thighs, high enough that he could see the shadowy cleft of her cunt. She wasn’t wearing underwear.
Which would have been fine by him except his bodyguard and best friend was leaning negligently against the vehicle right next to her. A growl of anger and jealousy rose up in Soloman’s throat and he was preparing to launch himself toward the pair when he realized that the animosity that usually existed between the two was completely missing. In fact, their tones as they spoke were platonic and borderline friendly. Soloman forced his muscles to relax.
He knew if Riley and Roman were both to be part of his future then they would have to develop a rapport. His insane jealousy couldn’t get in the way. Roman was obsessed with Katie, not Riley. Taking a deep breath, he stepped back into the shadows and listened to their low-voiced conversation.
“Why’d she leave him?” Roman’s voice rumbled. Luckily, though he spoke quietly, his deep voice carried.
Riley went up onto her toes as she reached forward, tinkering with something deep in the BMW’s engine compartment. She held some kind of tool in her delicate hand. Soloman couldn’t tell what from his position. It was a damn good thing he’d done his research on her or he’d never trust this woman with the guts of his fleet. She turned her face toward Roman and blew some hair off her face.
“She didn’t leave him, it’s the other way around. He kicked her to the curb. Damn good thing though. That douchebag was as poison as poison can get,” she announced angrily. “Hey, how much do you charge for a hit? I’d love to pay someone to take that rotten fucker out. I’d do it myself, but, you know… squeamish.”
Roman snorted his laughter and reached out to snag a pancake off her plate. Soloman raised an eyebrow. They had gone from her wanting to scratch out Roman’s eyes to sharing food in a matter of days. Apparently hating Katie’s ex was an excellent common goal.
“I’ll do the bastard for free, just give me a name.”
“Colin Schell,” she said instantly.
Roman stood up straighter. “You’re serious.”
“As a fucking heart attack,” she mumbled back, still buried in the engine. “That asshole did a number on our sweet Katie. She hasn’t been the same in years. I know you haven’t really had a chance to hang out with her lately… but she’s different now. She looks like sex and confidence.”
Roman growled, his body tensing. Soloman felt certain he was going to have to intervene. Roman kept his distance though, forcing himself to just listen to what Riley was saying, even if he didn't like it.
“She’s not, though. Confident, I mean. She might look like she sleeps around,” Riley cocked a brow at him when Roman made a choking, snarling sound. “Okay big guy, we both know it’s not true. You’re the stalker. You don’t see guys coming and going from her place when she’s in town, do you?”
“Fuck, I don't know what she’s doing when I don't have eyes on her. That’s the problem,” Roman snarled, looking as though he were going to punch something. Soloman sincerely hoped it wasn’t his girlfriend. Because then he’d have to murder his best friend. He sort of hoped the big man wouldn’t punch one of his cars either.
Riley straightened and looked up at Roman. “She hates herself, Roman. She only flirts to feel a little bit of self worth. She’s broken inside. That fucker broke her and I can’t fix it.”
Soloman vowed right then and there that if Roman didn’t go hunting, he would. Just to take care of the haunted look in Riley’s eyes when she thought of what her best friend had gone through. He felt a twinge of guilt that he’d almost killed Katie’s brother in front of her. It sounded like the poor girl had been through enough.
“I should’ve kept a better eye on her over the years,” Roman rumbled as Riley turned back to the car, stuffing a piece of bacon in her mouth.
She shrugged her shoulders and climbed onto the fender to get a better look at something in the back. Soloman winced as his car dipped and the shirt she was wearing rode dangerously high in the back. Woman probably had zero respect because it was a newer model BMW. Probably thought she was too good for his snooty ass car. She loved her classics. With the exception of the Regera, of course.
“Katie told you to leave her alone years ago. Said she couldn’t be happy with you breathing down her neck all the time. I know it hurt her to do it, but she pushed you away and married what she thought was a safe man.”
He grunted. “I watched from afar. Not close enough, it seems.”
Riley shrugged again. “If there’s one thing that woman can do, it’s make things look good from the outside.”
“No shit,” Roman agreed.
Riley reached deeper into the darkness of Soloman’s engine. The back of his shirt slid right up her ass, revealing her smooth, plump pussy lips to him. All the blood rushed from his head to his already engorged cock. Lucky for his friend’s life, Roman’s focus was entirely on his phone. He was probably already checking in with their information guy and getting everything he could on Katie’s ex. Soloman was done watching from the shadows.
Stepping into the garage, he walked toward the pair. Roman’s eyes snapped up and then slid sideways, guiltily taking in Riley’s lack of proper apparel. Soloman raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. They both knew Roman should’ve sent her back into the house the moment she showed her gorgeous half-naked self out of doors. Instead, Roman had chosen to pump her for information on his favourite obsession.
Roman straightened as if expecting Soloman to land a punch somewhere. It spoke to the depth of their friendship that Roman didn’t raise him arms to defend himself. He just stood there waiting for a fist to the jaw, his eyes hard, but expectant. With a grunt, Soloman reached into the car, snatched the plate from the battery block and handed it to Roman who took it wordlessly and headed into the house.
Oblivious to Soloman’s presence, Riley continued to work on the engine, her small hands flashing in and out of the greasy interior. Smudges marred the previously pristine whiteness of his shirt and showed dark against the light skin of her arms. He never knew oil stains could look so sexy before.
“You know,” she murmured thoughtfully, “I bet I could convince her to meet you. I mean we’d have to be sneaky about it, but I could ask her to meet me somewhere first, then…”
“You’re not going anywhere, gorgeous, but straight back to my bed,” Soloman said from behind her.
Riley gasped and whipped her head around, the tip of her ponytail trailing over her shoulder. She blushed at the smouldering look he gave her. Her eyes quickly flickered down his bared chest, interest flaring bright in their velvet depths. She tried to climb down off the bumper, but he wrapped a strong, tattooed arm around her waist before she could extract herself.
He lifted her by the waist and held her away from the car while he slammed the hood down. Then he lifted her up onto the hood of the car on her knees facing away from him. She glanced uncertainly over her shoulder. He gave her a wicked grin, reached around, took hold of his dress shirt and tore it from her body. She gasped loudly as buttons flew in every direction, some of them pinging off the hood of the beautiful car.
She was left to crouch naked over the hood of his black BMW. He didn't think he'd ever seen anything more beautiful. He grabbed her by the back of the neck and forced her forward until her palms hit the hood as well, spreading out against the sleek metal to catch herself.
“What if we… dent or… or scratch…” she panted as his intention became clear, her breaths coming out in short gasps. She moaned and began to wiggle backwards with the intention of sliding off the car.
He brought his hand down hard on her ass, making her jump and leaving a gorgeous red imprint on the pale skin. She moaned and stopped trying to get off the car. “Fuck the car,” he growled, leaning forward to nip at her ear. “I know a great mechanic. Maybe she can fix it.”
She laughed throatily and he swore he felt that laugh sizzle through his veins right down to his fucking dick. “I’m a mechanic, not a body shop. And besides, I wouldn’t fix this shit. Come on Soloman, you gotta have better taste than this?”
He slapped her ass again in punishment, causing her to squeal and then moan as heat from the slap quaked through her limbs. “Fine,” he growled, in response, “then let’s fuck this shit up and buy something you like.”
“Ooooh, I like the sound of that, Mr. Moneybags,” she moaned, looking back at him, begging him over her shoulder with her beautiful, chocolate eyes. "What if someone comes in?"
"Don't fucking care," he growled, running his fingers down the crease of her ass and sliding one into her tight passage, massaging her from the inside. "You wear sexy shit like that in my garage you're going to get fucked, Riley. Now reach out as far as you can and let me see that sexy angel tattoo or I won't let you come all over my hand before we go for a ride."
She moaned and instantly did as he commanded, reaching up the car and stretching her body across the metal hood of the car as he fucked her with his finger. She rocked back into the rough plunge of his finger through her silken passage. When he added another, her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She flexed her shoulders, tilted her head back and bore down on his fingers as the need to come started rippling through her vaginal passage. He wrapped his fingers around her neck and flexed as he forced her further down until her forehead touched the metal of the car next to her hands.
"Stay," he commanded, taking his hand away.
She whimpered and tensed but did as he told her. He was dominant and sometimes brutal, but so far he had done nothing but brought her body to life. She would trust him to give her more of the same. Just for a little while. He wrapped his long fingers around her legs just above her knees and forced her thighs wider. She could feel the slick lips of her sex open for him from behind. She moaned from both embarrassment and need.
"So fucking gorgeous," he growled, running one large hand over her ass and then cupping her pussy from behind. "All mine, Riley. No one else will ever touch this again."
Embarrassment fled as his words washed over her. She knew she should be horrified by his meaning, but in that moment, she couldn't bring herself to care about his possessive tone. She wanted the orgasm that was rippling through her belly and up her spine toward the angel tattoo with her arms reaching heavenward.
"Please, Solomon!" she gasped, rocking her hips back into his cupped hand.
"That's my good girl," he growled, shoving his fingers back into her dripping hole and massaging her g-spot until she was shrieking with pleasure, filling the garage with her sweet sounds.
He leaned down into her and began eating her out from behind, taking long swipes of his tongue through the folds of her labia. He circled and played with her clit, drawing it from its hood and coaxing it into a hard nub of sensation. She was so slippery the sounds of sucking and wetness filled the garage making him wild for her. He kissed his way up her thigh toward her perfect little ass and began licking around the puckered hole. She froze and tried to lift her head.
He shoved her back down with a feral growl, banging her head against the metal. "Don't fucking move."
She whimpered and bucked her hips involuntarily as his tongue swiped up and down the seam of her ass, playing with the tiny, forbidden rosette. He would leave no part of her untouched. He didn't care if it was too soon. The quicker she learned who she belonged to the better. He planned on fucking every part of her, often and without reservation. She needed to get used to the idea.
Her hands reached up the car as though to escape, but he anchored her to him with the relentless, driving pleasure. Fluid slipped from her delicious cunt to trickle down her thigh and onto the hood of the car.
“I-I'm coming!" she wailed, bucking against him.
He twisted his fingers inside her and used his other hand to strum against her clit. She arched her lower back down toward the car while thrusting the angel tattoo upward. Her lips parted in a scream as she came all over his hands and face. Her knees gave out and she collapsed onto the hood of the car, her belly landing on the fluid that had flowed freely from her.
Solomon stared down at the woman that owned him the moment he laid eyes on her. She was his perfection, his everything. He unzipped his jeans and pulled his thick, veined cock out. She moaned and rolled half onto her side. His eyes traced the quote that ran along her narrow ribcage below her beautiful breast. He loved her ink because it was part of his girl, but he didn't want anyone else touching her ever again. No more tats for her.
He took a handful of her hair and pulled her head back sharply. She cried out. "Give me that ass, Riley."
Fear flashed in her eyes as she stared up at him. She chewed on her lip and slowly shook her head. "Please, Solomon, no..."
Lust punched him in the gut at the way she begged him. Then understanding caught up. His eyes softened and he touched her lips, still swollen and ravaged from his early morning kisses.
"I will have that ass, gorgeous. But not today. You aren't ready for me yet. I mean lift that beautiful ass off the car so I can fuck you properly."
She nodded and pushed herself up on shaking limbs. Impatient, he grabbed her by the waist and yanked her to him. As he sank into her delicious, silken heat from behind, he dropped his head back and closed his eyes, breathing hard through flared nostrils so he wouldn't lose control and start savagely fucking her. He wanted it to last longer and she deserved another orgasm. But fuck she felt so good. Being inside her was like coming home. Something he never knew was missing until her.
He began moving in long, hard thrusts that shoved her forward back onto the hood of the car. He brought his leg up onto the chrome bumper for better control and held her tight against his body. She cried out with each crashing thrust, her silken pussy slowly strangling him as she climbed higher and higher toward another orgasm. He reached around her, slid his hand over her belly and glided one long finger over her clitoris until her cries turned to strangled screams. He could feel her spasming around him.
He bent his head into her neck and bit down, sucking on her tender flesh. He growled in her ear, "Come hard for me, Riley."
She shrieked and flew apart in his arms, one hand clutching the forearm that was clamped around her middle and the other spread out and reaching desperately along the hood of his car.
Solomon grunted in satisfaction, his dick flaring wide within her, before he followed her over the edge of his own orgasm. Fire ripped through his belly and balls as he thrust one last time into her vice-like pussy before emptying what felt like a lifetime of pent up semen into the woman that belonged to him.