Page 35 of Driven by Desire

CHAPTER NINETEEN

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.”

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