by JL Simpson
A chuckle. “If you're out of shape I'd love to see you toned.”
“Really?”
“Really. So, are you looking for some personal attention? Some special training?”
Solomon shoved the door at the top of the stairs open, and sprinted through the gym.
“Why are you rubbing up against me?” Belinda asked.
“You look cold.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your perky breasts looked cold in that skimpy top. I could warm them for you.”
“What?”
“Oh come on, cupcake. You've been giving me the glad eye all class. Tell me you don't want me.”
“What?”
“See? You can't say it. How about I warm you up from the inside out with my tickling stick?”
“Your what?”
“I've a flat around the corner. Feel this. It's stiff for you already, cupcake.”
Solomon scattered a crowd of gym bunnies huddled around the studio waiting for the next class, and shoved the door open. His target was curled up in a fetal position on the floor.
Belinda stood over him with her hands on her hips. She looked mad as hell. “You filthy little man.”
Solomon rubbed his hands up her arms, and looked her over. “Are you okay?”
She nodded.
“What do you mean, is she okay? The bitch kneed me in the nuts.” The man writhed with his hands clasped between his legs.
Solomon pushed the man with his foot. “Mind your language around the lady. You got what you deserved. A gentleman doesn't force himself on a lady.”
“She wanted it.”
“Did she? Well then, she's a funny way of showing it. Don't you think?”
Solomon turned his attention back to Belinda. “Did he hurt you?”
She met his gaze. “Gosh, no. He tried to get me to touch his man bits.” She frowned. “I guess I should have done what he wanted, so you could get more evidence. I was supposed to play along.”
“You were supposed to do no such thing. I'm sure we've enough.”
The man rolled onto his back. “Enough what?”
Solomon gave the man another kick. “You'll be getting yours, mate.” He slipped his leather jacket off and placed it around Belinda's shoulders.
She glanced up at him from under her long lashes. “Thanks.”
“How about a drink?”
“I'm a little underdressed for the pub.”
Solomon put an arm around her waist. “I've a full liquor cabinet back at the office. I think I might even be able to scare up a bottle of Chardonnay, if you've a mind to drink wine.”
They made their way through the gym. Solomon stopped and knocked on the office door. The tall, willowy, middle-aged gym manager answered. “Solomon. Any luck yet?”
“Aye. You'll find Roger on the floor in the exercise room, nursing his bruised nuts. I'll have the recording and the transcript of his conversation with Belinda to you, first thing in the morning.”
She gave his hand a firm shake. “Thank you. See you tomorrow.”
“Does ten suit?”
“Absolutely.” She glanced at Belinda. “Are you okay?”
Belinda nodded and smiled. “I'm fine. It was quite exciting, actually.”
Solomon snorted. “That's one way of describing it.”
They said their goodbyes, and Solomon and Belinda made their way to the car park. Solomon opened the car door, and tried to ignore Belinda's toned backside and long legs, as she climbed into his SUV. If he made a move on her just to scratch an itch, he’d be no better than that maggot she’d just left with a set of bruised bollocks.
Chapter Five
Daisy nibbled on a prawn, and smiled at Cliff. He shoveled food into his mouth like a man who'd never been fed. The waiter wrinkled his nose as he placed another serving of fries on the table. Cliff was in need of a bath and some clean clothes, but he deserved to eat the same as everyone else.
“So, how did you tame the squirrels?” Daisy asked.
“My mum used to call me Dr. Dolittle. I was always bringing t'ings home to nurse them.”
“Have you ever thought of being a vet?”
He shook his head. “I’m not smart enough.”
“Okay, well maybe not a vet, but there are other jobs where you can work with animals. My current case involves dogs.”
“Yeah?”
“Poodles.” She leaned closer, and whispered, “They scare the crap out of me.”
His snort of laughter made her frown. “Don't laugh. These are poodles on steroids. Huge things.” She put her fork on her empty plate. “You know, if you're not busy for the next few days, you could help me out. I can give you some cash, and you could have the use of the office bedroom as part of your wages.”
He shoved his empty plate away, and sipped his soft drink. “What do you need me to do?”
“Someone has stolen a prize winning stud poodle. I've got to visit some dog breeders, and interview them. You could use your magic, to keep the rabid beasts away from me, while I talk to the breeders. And as all dogs look the same to me, maybe you'd have more luck spotting Johnny in a crowd of giant poodles than I would.”
“Who owns t’is Johnny?”
“A lady called Candy Mars.”
“You really need my help? It's not charity?”
She handed the waiter the credit card Solomon had given her for emergencies, and smiled at Cliff. “Not charity. I really think you could give me an advantage. The dog's owner is distraught. Wouldn't it be good to reunite her with her poodle?”
“What breeders do you want to visit?”
Daisy pulled her pad out of her bag, and passed it to him. He ran his finger down the page, and then handed the pad back, a frown puckering the skin between his eyes.
“Is there a problem?”
Cliff shook his head. “Just t’inking.”
He stared out the window, while she took care of the bill. When she pushed her chair back, he got to his feet.
“It's not too late for me to drive you back.”
“Don't you have family to go home to?”
She smiled. “I've got a husband and a fifteen year old son, but they won't mind if I'm late. It's not like they need me to cook for them or anything.”
“How's t'at?”
Daisy shrugged. “Cooking's not my thing. So what's it to be? Living life on the edge as a temporary PI, helping to find a stolen dog, or back to your park bench?”
“Dog needs me. Can't walk away from t'at, can I?”
Daisy smiled at him. “Okay then, let's go and get you settled in.”
Cliff rushed to hold the restaurant door open for her. Solomon was going to go ape-shit about her offering Cliff a job and a warm bed, but he could suck it. Doing her bit to help Cliff out gave her a warm glow.
* * * * *
Solomon offered Belinda a hand to help her from his SUV. He should have taken her to a pub, where there were other people. Her outfit gave his body ideas his brain didn't want to act on, and the sheen of perspiration from the gym class might as well have been a spritz of aphrodisiac. Maybe he could grab a cold shower, while she poured the drinks. Or even better, he could let her use his shower, and then wrap her in a pair of his jeans and a jumper, to cover everything up, so that his libido and brain were on the same page.
She smiled, and he blew out a breath. Shite. He was a goner for sure.
He led the way inside. Once through the door, he watched her cross the room.
She stopped and leaned back against his desk, a hand resting each side of her hips. “Do you need to debrief me?”
It took all of his mental fortitude, to hold in the myriad inappropriate responses clogging up his brain. Flirting with Belinda would be like juggling a grenade. Even if she wasn’t live, he was primed and ready to go off in seconds.
“Perhaps you should remove the wire. Leave it on the desk. Now if you'll excuse me for a moment, I’ll get that drink.” He crossed the room, and headed down the
corridor to the kitchen. One glass of wine, and he'd send her on her way. Life was complicated enough without adding a woman hell-bent on taming him to the mix.
He opened the fridge and took out the chilled bottle of Chardonnay, before retrieving two wine glasses from an overhead cupboard.
Belinda appeared in the doorway. “Can I help?”
“I've got it. Shall we?” He nodded toward the door. “After you.”
She turned, and he followed her down the corridor, doing his damnedest not to ogle her arse in her tiny shorts. She glanced over her shoulder. He shook his head. So busted.
Back in the office, she sat on his desk and smiled. “So, how did I do for my first time?”
Solomon poured the wine, and handed her a glass—taking care not to glance at her long legs and pert breasts in her too-tiny gym outfit—before crossing the room to sit at Daisy's desk. “Not too bad.”
“Why are you sitting all the way over there? Do I scare you?” She took a sip of her wine.
Solomon shook his head. “I'm just afraid that screwing you would be a mistake.”
Belinda raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I want to screw you?”
He took a sip of wine and then smiled. “If your tongue hung any further out of your mouth, it would have carpet burn.”
Belinda snorted, “Daisy said you were arrogant.”
Solomon swallowed another mouthful of Chardonnay. “Daisy says too much. So are you telling me that you've not once wondered how it would be, if I bent you over my desk and gave you one?”
Her face turned red, and she glanced down at her glass. “Have you ever wondered?”
The idea had crossed his mind more than once since she’d taken to popping into the office to visit with Daisy. The desk. The office shower. The kitchen table. The bed in the office bedroom. The back seat of his SUV. “Fantasy is one thing, reality another.”
“So are you telling me fantasy-Solomon is better than the real thing? I guess you're right. You could never be as good in bed as I imagined.”
Solomon raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”
“Gosh, do you want it to be?” She chewed her bottom lip.
He should shut up now before the flirting got completely out of control, but he couldn’t resist. “You probably imagine you have a taste for a bit of rough.”
She put her glass on the desk, and got to her feet. Her hips swayed, as she sauntered toward him. He pushed his chair backward, but she kept coming. One moment she was gliding across the floor, and the next she was hurtling head-first in his direction. The rip in the carpet he'd been meaning to get fixed for ages claimed its first victim, as she landed in his lap with a thud. Her elbow slammed into his family jewels, bringing tears to his eyes.
He groaned, and she leapt to her feet. “Oh, God. Did I damage you? Where does it hurt?”
Doubled over and unable to draw a breath, he shook his head. Belinda dropped to her knees, placed her hand on his injury, and rubbed him gently in soft circles. “Want me to kiss it better?”
“Jeysus.” Belinda looked up at him, her lips slightly parted. He scrubbed his hand over his dark regulation army hairstyle and took a deep breath. Her breasts rose and fell. She licked her bottom lip, and he imagined her following through on the offer to kiss it better. A man could only hold out for so long. He’d tried to do the right thing and give her the brush off, but his mind and body where now clearly in the same camp.” I give up. For the sake of my bollocks, let's do this.”
She looked up at him through long dark lashes. “What?” She tugged at his zipper. “You do want me to kiss it better?”
“No. Yes. No. I mean sex. Okay, we can do this. Once. One time. No dating. No regrets. Agree?”
“Gosh, yes, rather.”
He pulled her to her feet, and pressed his lips to hers. She plastered herself against him, and devoured his mouth.
When she broke free to breathe, he grabbed a handful of her hair, and tilted her face up until she met his gaze. “And not a word to Daisy.”
She licked her lips. “I don't kiss and tell.”
Solomon seriously doubted that, but he would risk it to get a taste of that soft, creamy flesh, and some more action from her pouty lips. He bent, threw her over his shoulder, and started for the bedroom.
Chapter Six
Daisy glanced at Cliff, as she pulled up at the curb around the corner from the office. Other than fiddling with the radio until he found a pop station apparently to his liking, he'd barely moved, and had said nothing the whole trip.
She climbed from her car, and Cliff followed. Solomon's SUV was parked at the top of the steps to their basement office. She'd planned to call him later, and explain that Cliff was staying overnight before the men actually met. Unless she phoned Solomon now it looked like that wasn’t going to happen.
Tesco bag in hand, Cliff hovered behind her, as she slipped the key in the lock and opened the door. The lights in the office were on, but there was no sign of Solomon. She stepped inside, crossed to her desk, and dropped her bag on the floor. Two half empty glasses of wine sat on the desks, and the bottle of Chardonnay that had been in the fridge was covered in condensation. Solomon and Belinda must have moved on, and left Solomon’s car behind.
Daisy turned to Cliff. “How about a guided tour?”
Cliff shrugged, and she took that as a yes. She smiled. “Follow me.”
She led the way down the corridor, and grabbed the bedroom door handle. Solomon used to keep the room locked, but since his ex-girlfriend had kicked the door in, he no longer bothered.
She pushed the door open, and stepped inside. Something warm hit her in the side of the face, and she heard a woman scream.
When she turned her head, she got an eyeful of Solomon's naked back, with a woman's legs wrapped around his jean clad hips. A glance at the floor revealed she'd been hit by a white sports crop-top.
Daisy stepped closer. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He’d said he wouldn’t. But maybe be had, and in the office of all places. “Oh my God. Belinda, is that you?”
A squeal from somewhere beneath Solomon was the only response to her question.
Solomon glared at Daisy. “Fecking hell, Daisy. Get out.”
She shoved Cliff down the hall. “Sorry, it seems my partner is busy. How about a cup of tea?”
The door to the bedroom banged shut, and she flinched before glancing behind her. A barefoot Solomon stomped toward her, tugging his shirt over his head. Her interruption must have spoilt the mood, but even so she thanked God he had his jeans on.
Cliff stared toward the front door. “Maybe I should go.”
Daisy grabbed his arm. “Stay.”
“He looks pissed off.”
Daisy glanced over her shoulder at Solomon, who stood just behind them scowling. “He always looks that way. I think the wind changed when he was pulling that face as a child.”
She could feel Solomon's breath on the back of her neck. “Solomon, good to see you having fun. Do you want us to come back later?”
Belinda appeared from down the corridor, and darted across the room and out the front door, leaving it swinging on its hinges.
Solomon let out a loud sigh. “Apparently there’s no need.”
Daisy turned and patted him on the shoulder. “Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt.” She let her gaze drift down his body. “Do you want me to do the introductions before or after you take a cold shower?”
“You are a cold shower.”
“You could go after her.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Not going to happen.”
“Looked like it was going to happen, from where I stood.”
“Daisy.”
She smothered a smile, and tugged Cliff toward Solomon. “Anyway, I wanted you to meet Cliff Richards.”
“Are you serious? Looks like the singing gig didn't work out for him.”
“Don't be rude. Cliff was the one who found your missing phone. Without his help I would nev
er have tracked you down, and you'd be dead.”
“Unlikely.”
Daisy rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Anyway, Cliff has a special way with animals, so I thought he could help me with my case.”
“You're taking it, then?”
“Do we have anything else?”
Solomon held out his hand to Cliff. “Nice to meet you, Cliff. And good luck. You'll be needing to keep your wits about you, if you're working with Daisy.”
Cliff shook his hand, and frowned. “Is looking for a missing dog dangerous?”
“No idea mate, but working with Daisy is always challenging.”
Daisy put her arm through Cliff's, and led him back toward the corridor. “Ignore him, Cliff. He's obviously frustrated.”
Solomon yelled after them. “Where are you going, exactly?”
“I promised Cliff a warm shower and a bed for the night. Can you change the bed sheets? He doesn't need to catch any of your diseases.”
Solomon followed Daisy. “What? He's what?”
Daisy opened the bathroom door. “Everything you need is in the cupboard. Take as long as you need.”
Cliff glanced at Solomon, and then back at Daisy. “Maybe I should go.”
“No. Leave him to me. Really, it's fine.” She smiled at Solomon. “Isn't it?” She shooed Cliff further into the room. “He's just a bit slow to warm up to people.”
She shut the door behind Cliff. Turning, she folded her arms and glared at Solomon. He glared back, no doubt planning a tirade. The shrill ringing of the office phone interrupted the silence, and Solomon spun on his heels, and marched back down the corridor.
A sigh escaped her lips. This was going better than she expected. Not. Perhaps the call was Belinda, inviting him over to finish what they'd started. A horizontal workout would do Solomon’s mood a world of good.
The splash of running water sounded through the bathroom door. Cliff must have decided taking a hot shower was worth risking the Irish git's ire. Daisy left him to it, and headed back to the office. Once Solomon got off the phone, she could explain properly.
Solomon glanced at her, and then back at the phone. “What? Lisa's where?” Pause. “Which police station?” Another pause. “And Molly?” He shook his head. “No. Not social services. I'm on my way.” He slammed the phone down. “Shite.”