Riley gasped and straightened against the counter so quickly she knocked the back of her head against a cupboard. She could feel the colour draining from her face. She had become so used to his pursuit and their banter over the past few weeks that she’d nearly forgotten who she was dealing with.
He tapped the chicken against her lips. She opened automatically and allowed him to slide the meat into her mouth. She wasn’t hungry anymore. He had effectively scared the hunger away, but she ate anyway. It was better than the alternative.
He continued to feed her chicken and then pieces of chopped up mango and pineapple until she pushed his hand away and quietly announced that she was full. He ate a few bites of everything in between feeding her, though his main focus seemed to be on caring for her. After his chilling declaration, they didn't speak again until after he finished putting the containers away and washed his hands again.
“Time for bed,” he announced.
He reached for her and lifted her easily off the counter. She was grateful when he set her on her feet instead of carrying her once again through the massive house. He took her hand and once more, without turning on any lights, began leading her. They arrived at a set of stairs leading down. He placed her hand on a railing and helped her glide down the wide staircase.
She frowned. “You sleep in the basement? That seems like an odd choice for a guy with tons of money. Why don't you buy a house with upstairs bedrooms? Or get a condo like me. Well, not exactly like me. My place is pretty small for a big-time guy like you. Something bigger, like a penthouse, with a pool or something.”
She knew she was babbling, but she couldn't seem to help herself. She was becoming more and more nervous as they descended further into the darkness of the house. She was beginning to feel like Persephone being swept off into the underworld by Hades. That had always been one of her favourite Greek myths because of the dark romance involved. Now that she found herself in virtually the same situation as the virgin goddess, she was rethinking what she considered romantic.
“I have a pool,” he grunted in response to her question, amusement lacing his deep tones.
As she stepped off the last stair and the bottom floor spread out in front of her she saw why his bedroom was down there. She gasped in surprise and, momentarily forgetting both her fear and his hold on her, she stepped toward the panoramic windows. He followed her. The windows faced a massive lawn that stretched out toward the inky black ocean where waves crashed against the beach. The moon flooded the entire area with light, including the interior of the room they were standing in. She could see a free-standing fireplace and a leather sofa set.
His estate home must be set on a slope where the front half of the house was level with the front lawn and the back half of the house was at the bottom of a hill. It was both modern and beautiful. She quickly calculated how much an ocean front property like that would cost and realized she was way further out of her depth than she had originally thought with this mafia boss. Like, maybe a few dozen of her little chop shops could buy a place like this.
Soloman curved a hand around her waist and urged her down another dark hallway. Her heart crashed in her chest the further he escorted her into his home. She began to feel as though there would be no escape. She knew she wouldn’t make it five steps if she tried and not just because of her dislike of running. He finally had his prize and he was not letting her go.
He lead her through another doorway at the end of the hall. She blinked in an attempt to bring something into focus. Did this guy have something against lights? She licked her suddenly dry lips and quickly stepped away from the arm that was curved around her waist. Surprisingly, he let her go. She guessed now that he had her where he wanted her, he didn't need to pin her to his side.
The windows in this room were covered in blinds, she supposed so he could sleep in darkness once the sun rose. Glancing at the clock she realized sunrise was only an hour away. It was 4:22am. They had driven all night. After leaving her Sparrow Hawk victory behind, they had only stopped once for gas and to stretch their legs. Ironically, Soloman had chosen to stop in Blackbird. The seething look he’d given her as he’d pumped gas told her that his choice hadn’t been accidental. He had traced her there. He knew about the track. He probably knew she shared a room with Wendell. It was a fucking miracle that guy was still alive.
Riley carefully made her way to the window and touched the cord on the blinds covering the sliding glass doors. “May I?” she asked quietly.
“Of course,” he murmured, coming to stand behind her.
She pulled, opening the blinds and revealing the magnificent view. A sigh escaped her lips as her eyes traced over his immaculate lawn and the dark ocean beyond. The faint beginnings of dawn were starting to crest over the water, creating a blue glow. He ran a hand over her shoulder and curved her into the strength of his arms. She brought her hands up against his stomach to push him away, but as soon as her fingers brushed the fabric of his shirt she felt the heat of his body. She gasped and dropped her hands. Her fingers brushed the rigid length of his cock, pressed hard against the fabric of his jeans.
Oh god! She couldn’t do this! She thought dizzily.
She pressed her hands back against the door behind her and reached for the latch. It opened beneath her fingers. Without thinking, she shoved the door open. She turned to run, but he was on her in seconds. His growl turned feral as he wrapped long fingers around her arms and dragged her back through the door. The kiss of ocean breeze barely touched her before she was turned around and slammed into his hard chest.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“No more games, Riley,” he said in a hard voice, shaking her hard. “Trust me, you do not want to come to my bed this way. I will hurt you, woman.”
She opened her mouth to deny him, but nothing came out. She realized she was both desperately frightened and aroused. They had been dancing around each other for weeks. And if there was one thing Riley loved it was the adrenaline rush of a good chase scene, but somewhere along the way things had changed. He had changed. Things became real. She sensed this was no longer just a fuck to him. He intended to keep her. To chain her to him. And she so wasn’t ready for that.
“Please,” she whispered, her lips shaking as she gazed up at him, hoping he could see the fear in her eyes. Hoping it wouldn’t call to the predator in him.
“We passed please when you took my car, little girl,” he growled, his fingers biting into her biceps. He pulled her closer until her breasts brushed against his chest.
“I’m sorry,” she offered, biting her lip and trying to look contrite. She really wasn't sorry at all. She’d won the fucking Sparrow Hawk Cup! She’d shown the world what the Regera was built to do.
He sighed angrily and shook her. She brought her hands up to brace herself against his chest. “Don’t lie to me,” he snapped. “You’re sorry you got caught. And believe me, Riley. I’m about to make you very sorry.”
She opened her mouth to snap back at him, but he brought his head down, closing the space between them. Crushing her lips with his, he took her mouth in a brutal kiss that told her exactly how their time together would be. Desire fled as fear set in when he continued to ravish her mouth with no thought for her comfort. When she tried to turn her head away, he took her ponytail in his fist and pulled it back in a brutal hold, twisting her head beneath his until her face was tilted exactly where he wanted it.
He fucked her mouth with his tongue until she was helpless to deny him what he wanted. The fight drained from her and she opened her lips with each invasion of his tongue. The hands that had been shoving uselessly against the immoveable muscles of his chest now clutched his shirt so she wouldn’t fall at his feet. Not that he would allow that. He had her pinned with her back against the window.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her until only the toes of her Sketchers grazed the floor. He crushed her against his body, forcing her to feel the length of his erection against the cradle of her th
ighs. She whimpered into his mouth as he moved to kiss down her throat, his mouth hot and demanding against her tender skin.
“Soloman!” she cried out, when he bit into the skin of her shoulder blade through her T-shirt.
His head snapped up and he immediately swooped down for another intense, dizzying kiss. She cried out in pain as the day old growth on his cheeks and chin scratched against the ravaged skin around her mouth where he had brutalized her. He jerked back and looked down at her with a frown. It was clear he couldn’t see what was wrong in the shadows surrounding him. Taking her by the arm, he dragged her roughly to the side of the bed and switched on a nightstand lamp.
Riley gasped and turned her head away from the sudden light. So he did pay his electricity bill, she noted bitterly. He took her ponytail in his hand once more and, before she could jerk it away, used it to turn her face to the light. His frown turned fierce and he swore so viciously Riley wondered if she was about to die. Instinctively, she tried to yank her arm away from him, but he held her tight. She flinched back when he brought his other hand up, but all he did was run his fingertips over the swollen, reddened skin around her lips.
He growled in annoyance and thrust a tattooed hand through his hair before dropping it to his side. Did he care that he’d hurt her? But she thought he intended to punish her for her constant defiance and denials. She was confused. Was the mafia kingpin about to fuck her or take pity on her? She glanced down to see if she was still in danger. Yup, still fucked. Or about to be.
“It doesn’t matter,” he growled quietly, almost to himself.
He pulled her in more closely and continued to watch her face. His was set in stone, his scarred mouth a relentless slash. He swung her around and began lowering her onto the bed. She brought her hands up in a panic and clutched his arms as though he might stop if she clung onto him hard enough. She suddenly understood what he meant. He wanted her bad enough to take her using whatever means necessary. He was a bad man, used to doing very bad things. Yet it bothered him that he had hurt her. But he didn’t understand why, because nothing in life had taught him to be soft. Her heart melted just a little.
She was still terrified though. Far too frightened to give him what he was about to ruthlessly take from her. She just wasn't ready. She stiffened as he lowered his hard body against her, crushing her into the soft mattress.
“Soloman!” she gasped. “Please can I take a shower?”
He stiffened over top of her, clearly not expecting that kind of a request from her. But he did stop. She pressed her advantage by wiggling a little, trying to get out from under him. He groaned and thrust his hips hard against her, forcing a sharp gasp from her throat when his erection pressed intimately into her. She stopped moving, looked up at him pleadingly and begged, “Please, Soloman, I feel so dusty from driving all day yesterday and this morning.”
He thought for a moment and then finally grunted his assent and rolled off of her. She shot off the bed as though it were on fire. They both knew she was buying time, but it didn’t matter. She would take anything he gave her. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her against him.
“Ow!” she snapped. She was getting really sick of all the arm grabbing.
He hauled her into an ensuite and smashed his fist against a light switch, flooding a gorgeous, marble washroom in yellow light. Someone was clearly getting grumpy at being constantly denied his sexy time prize. She pressed her fingers against her lips and shuddered. His patience was running out as fast as her time.
She glanced around the washroom and quickly assessed her ability to squeeze through the window over top of the whirlpool bathtub. Yeah, no problem. She dropped her eyes so he wouldn’t divine her thoughts. Too late. His annoyed gaze met hers.
“Clothes off,” he said coldly, leaning a hip against the vanity and holding a large hand out.
Her jaw dropped. “Not with you in here!” she gasped, horrified.
“Do it now, or I’ll do it for you,” he snapped. “And I promise, little girl, if I get my hands on you right now, I will fuck you right here and now. I’m just about done waiting. Don’t want you jumping out that window and running.”
She continued to glare at him angrily until he took a step toward her. She gasped and jumped back until her elbow touched the immaculate glass of the huge shower stall. “Fine!” she snapped back at him. “It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before, asshole!”
His scar quivered and his lips thinned for just a moment before he spoke. “Watch that mouth, Riley.”
She glared fireballs at him, but kept her lips sealed. There was a whole lot she would love to say to him, but kept her peace for the moment. She could tell he was rapidly reaching the edge of his patience. She wasn’t used to playing with men like him. Fuck, she didn’t think anyone survived long enough to play with him. He deserved it though. He was a dick through and through. She would make him regret fucking around with her. Yeah, she’d burn his house down or something. Not his garage though. She bet he had some sweet deals in there. She’d boost those babies and sell them. Then she’d burn the garage.
She threw her T-shirt in his face, ignored his growl of annoyance and reached for her jeans. She did her best to pretend he wasn't there, but knew her face had gone cherry red as she pulled her jeans and panties down her hips. She didn’t bother taking her time. There was no point. She wanted him out of there as fast as possible. She reached around behind her and unsnapped her bra, allowing it to fall into her other hand. She was about to fling it at him when his hand closed over hers in a crushing grip.
His eyes burned into hers like glowing coals. She felt his desire to own every inch of her like a physical presence filling up the space in between and all around them. She didn’t understand how he could want her so bad. He barely knew her. Yet he had maneuvered her to this point. She was now in his power. She swallowed and dropped her eyes, submitting under the heavy heat of his arousal. He pulled the bra from her fingers and released her hand.
“You have five minutes, Riley.”
***
Soloman stood outside the patio door next to his bedroom listening to the shower run. He took a long draw of his cigarillo and allowed the smoke to linger in his mouth, hoping the subtle scent would calm the blood that sizzled through his veins. The blood that raged through his cock and demanded he stalk into his washroom, drag Riley wet and dripping out of the shower and make her his woman.
He pressed the heel of his hand against his painfully engorged erection and tried not to picture the woman naked beneath the spray of his shower head. It had been a mistake to force her to undress in front of him. He knew she wouldn’t be able to go through the ensuite window. The damn thing was welded shut. Every window in his home was shatter proof and only certain windows and doors opened. No, he had wanted her to strip for him, the way she had in his office. And something about having her strip naked while angry was even better. He wondered how she would fuck angry?
She had been in the shower for seven minutes. Of course, she would push her time limit. Goddamn woman never did anything easy. Would he want her as much if she did? She had been a challenge right from the word go. Glaring up at him with those beautiful melted chocolate eyes and refusing to tell him her name. Even after admitting she knew who he was. That made her reckless and brave. A combination guaran-fucking-teed to get him and his dick’s attention.
What she didn’t know was he noticed a whole lot more than that. She was strong, with a backbone of steel. But gorgeous and soft in all the right places. She was loyal to a woman that was never the mother Riley needed. A woman that was batshit crazy one moment and fucking brilliant the next. She was loyal as fuck to the people she called friends. She ran her legitimate garage and her chop shop like a fucking pro, despite her relative youth and inexperience. She was a woman willing to give the world the finger and do whatever it took to make the people around her happy and proud.
He needed a woman like her by his side. A loyal wife.
; He stubbed the cigarillo out and dropped it into the ashtray on the patio table next to the door. He turned and reentered the bedroom. She was standing hesitantly next to the bedroom door as though she had been about to run upstairs and out the front door despite her lack of clothes. She wore only a fluffy white towel over her curves with another one wrapped around her long, dark hair.
Her wide eyes met his and she edged toward the door a little more. The glow of the rising sun coming in from the door behind him caressed her features. She looked so vulnerable, standing there with her arms wrapped around her waist. As though she would break apart if he reached for her now.
“Don’t run,” he said softly.
Her eyes jerked to his and he saw genuine fear. He wanted to soothe her, but this wasn't the time or place. He knew she wanted to beg for more time. It wouldn’t be granted. Every step he took had driven them to this point. He would impress his domination on her, no matter what she wanted. He watched her carefully, expecting her to fly at any moment.
"Do you trust me not to hurt you?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "You've already hurt me. You nearly killed one of my best friends, you sicced your guard dog on Katie, you drove my mother out of town. You're a dirty, ruthless son-of-a-bitch. You've clearly never heard of honour among thieves."
His eyes became glacial as he continued to watch her every move like a hunter about to make his kill. "If you believe that, then I have no need to be gentle with you. I might as well take you and fuck you the way I crave."
She shivered and took another step away from him toward the open door behind her. Her gaze darted frantically toward escape, before her long lashes swept down in an attempt to conceal her thoughts from him. He took another step closer to her, stalking her.
Driven by Desire Page 11