Page 32 of Driven by Desire

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.

"You know, that night I went to the shop looking for Riley Bancroft? The night we met?" his deep voice drew her in, commanded her to look at him.

"Yes?" she whispered, her lashes sweeping up. Dark eyes clashed with darker. How could she forget that night? It was the night he decided to stomp all over her life and steal her independence forever.

"I knew you took my car," he told her, his dark eyes cold. She froze, pinned to the spot by his words. "How could it be anyone else? I knew of only one man capable of stealing a car of that rarity and quality. Your father, Alan Bancroft. It only made sense, since the man was dead, that his illusive progeny would follow in his footsteps. I had heard rumblings that the 'son' was most likely going to qualify for the prestigious Sparrow Hawk Cup and needed a car. I put two and two together. Unfortunately, I didn’t get quite the right answer, did I?”

She froze, pinned to the spot by his words. He stepped closer to her, his gaze taking in every nuance of her features as she worked out what he was saying.

Reading the growing horror on her face, he nodded. "I was going to end you that night, Riley. Put a bullet in your head,” he admitted, his deep voice caressing her, despite the chilling content of his words. "I had to send a message to anyone else interested in touching my property."

"Only... I wasn't what you thought," she whispered, her velvet eyes wide with apprehension. She had come so close to death in her single-minded pursuit of racing glory. What if Solomon hadn't become fascinated by her that night?

He reached her side but he didn't touch her. He didn't need to. His eyes and his voice were powerful enough to capture and hold her. He watched as a drop of water escaped from beneath the towel, fell from her temple and dripped onto her breast. Her chest rose and fell with her rapid breathing. He brought his fingertips up to touch the water drop, catching it on his knuckle and sliding his finger up the soft curve of her breast. She flinched and stared at him wide-eyed as he brought the water to his mouth.

"No, you weren't what I thought," he admitted. "You can now claim the privilege of being the only person to change my mind once I set my course. And Riley?"

She moistened her lips. "Yes?" she whispered.

"I don't change my mind," he told her, his words holding deep significance.

Her chest lifted and dropped with the effort it took to just breath. He pinned her in place without touching her, watching closely as she struggled to breath. He hoped she wasn't having a panic attack. He was going to fuck her. No matter what she threw at him in the next few minutes. He didn’t care if it made him a monster, he would fuck a hysterical woman. He couldn't go one more minute without sinking into Riley’s delicious body.

"What now?" she asked him.

He didn't answer. Instead he brought both hands up and gently unwrapped the towel from her hair so he wouldn't tug the wet strands. He let the damp towel drop to the floor and reached for the one knotted against her breasts. She brought her hands up and took a quick step back. He snagged her wrist in one hand and wrenched the towel away with the other, baring her once more.

“Soloman, please!” she gasped out.

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