Page 4 of Driven by Desire

Riley held her breath while they waited for Soloman’s response. They’d given him Wendell’s sisters name. A quick check using resources that he undoubtedly had access to would quickly uncover the lie. Luckily, Katie was travelling for work and would never know her name was used in vain. Though she was a giant flirt and did tend to cause havoc in the shop when she deigned to saunter through with her mini skirts and lacquered nails. She also happened to be Riley’s best friend.

Riley hoped that telling Soloman the woman he met was a flirt would put him off wanting anything more to do with her. Perhaps it was a mild attraction and he would lose interest and move on to greener pastures if he thought she was easy. Dude looked like he enjoyed a challenge. She crossed her fingers and prayed he was already moving on.

“Must’ve,” he finally agreed, after a moment of thought. “I appreciate your help with my problem, Riley. Let me know what you hear.”

“Will do,” Wendell agreed and hung up.

Riley sighed in relief and leaned back against the window of her office, closing her eyes. “Thank god that’s done. Hopefully that’s the last we hear from him.”

Wendell put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. She looked up at him and into two very concerned blue eyes. “Time to think of a plan, Riles. Because that man didn’t believe a word I said.”

***

Soloman leaned back in his chair and placed his phone carefully on the desk. He cracked his knuckles and turned to look out across the landscaped yard. He should have been extremely angry, but satisfaction was the only emotion he could conjure. Riley Bancroft just made a very big mistake in lying to him. By playing dirty with him she was giving him the opening he needed to take what he wanted.

For now, he would play her games. Give her a chance to get to know him better and come to him willingly. Eventually, she would give him what he wanted. If she continued to resist him, then he would crush her games and burn her world until she had no more choices. He hadn’t become one of the most feared men in the city for no reason. She would learn.

He looked down at the file his information guy had put together two hours after Roman had contacted him. It contained everything he needed on Riley Bancroft. He didn’t need to open it to remember the contents. He did pull the pictures out. One was her driver’s license and the other was her passport. Both resembled her, but neither did justice to the gorgeous, vibrant creature he’d encountered in the garage.

He looked down at the pictures and then closed his eyes, conjuring her image and the vanilla scent combined with motor oil that he’d smelled on her when he’d stepped up to her. He’d been nearly overwhelmed by the urge to take a fistful of her ponytail, jerk her into his chest and take those plush lips in a hard kiss. Fuck, they were so plump, they begged to be crushed beneath his own thinner, harder lips. She had the type of mouth that made men everywhere picture a dick sliding between the red, lush pillowy softness and into the moist depths of her mouth. It made him want to put his fist through a wall, or a dude’s face, and lock her up where no one could see her.

Soon. He would bring her home and show her who she belonged to. For now, he would play the wooing game and lure her into his trap.

Though he’d memorized the words, he flipped open the file anyway. Glancing down at her information, he reread each word in an attempt to soothe the impatient beast rearing up inside him with the need to go find Riley Bancroft. First, he would spank her for lying to him, then fuck her into submission.

She was thirty years old. The only child of Cilia and Alan Bancroft. Alan Bancroft had passed away two years earlier from a sudden heart attack, leaving his extremely lucrative repair and detail shop to his daughter, Riley Anne Bancroft. Further digging had revealed that the garage was also a chop shop. A fact Soloman had, of course, already known.

The dating and medical information had caused Soloman’s blood to boil, forcing him to examine closely what exactly it was he wanted with this girl he had spent barely five minutes with. She was on birth control and went to the clinic for regular blood testing, and yearly pelvic exams, which suggested she was sexually active. The information guy had also dug up a dating profile. Though there seemed to be no one serious in the picture, she dated semi-frequently and had a thing for clean-cut jocks. That was about to change.

The mother, Cilia Bancroft, was a high-functioning autistic that lived on her own and had a gambling problem. She worked as an accountant to the rich and was currently blacklisted from every casino and poker game in town thanks to her grown up daughter. Very interesting. This piece of information would come in very handy considering he owned several of the places Cilia was currently not allowed to step foot in. Perhaps it was time to make Mrs. Bancroft’s acquaintance.

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