Solomon pelted me with another question and sat next to me. “Ever been married?”
“No.”
“No?”
I frowned. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“You’re a very attractive woman, but you’re really bitter about life, so I figured you must have come out of a nasty divorce.”
The fact I might have portrayed myself as a bitter divorcee had never occurred to me. “I’ve just had a hard life.”
“Lots of people have tough lives.”
“True.”
“So why are you so bitter?” he asked.
“Because I want to be!” I snapped. Now the questions were veering into dangerous territory. No one ever asked me questions about my life, especially after they’d witnessed my supernatural abilities.
“Come on, Ruby, that’s not fair.”
“Why not?” Anxious to be away from him and his questions, I stood.
The irritation in his eyes surprised me, and I felt bad for being such a bitch.
“You learned more about me in an hour sitting on my porch than I’ve learned about you in the past three days. Don’t you think we should get to know one another beyond just being acquaintances?” He jumped to his feet and invaded my personal space. “You hold everyone at arm’s length. You constantly hurt Maureen’s feelings, but regardless, I can tell she truly admires you.”
“I don’t want her admiration.”
“Why? Because you don’t feel you deserve someone’s friendship or their loyalty?”
Oh, boy. He was hitting too close to home. I clenched my fists. The last thing I needed to do was let him upset me so that I zapped him.
“Loyalty is a myth. Admiration is for super stars.” I whirled, stomping over to the door. “And your questions and observations are full of shit!”
I pulled the door open just as his hand hit it, slamming it shut. Solomon spun me around by my shoulders and glowered down at me. It wasn’t exactly anger in his eyes but more of the determination I’d seen earlier. I felt for the door, backing up until my rear touched it.
“If anyone is full of shit, it’s you,” he said. “You spout off one flippant remark after another. No one here is against you, Ruby. Maureen surely isn’t. She wants nothing more from you than your friendship. She’s a free spirit, a woman who has no desires except to see what’s over the next horizon.”
“What about you?” I whispered so softly that at first I didn’t think he’d heard me. My heart flailed against my ribs, and blood thundered in my ears. “You’ve seen what I can do and you’re still here. What do you want from me?”
A series of emotions flickered through his eyes. Male emotions had always baffled me, and most of the time I believed men only possessed base feelings such as hunger, lust, jealousy, anger, and competitiveness. The expression in Solomon’s eyes didn’t fit any of those. His face turned stoic, and his mouth flattened into a thin line.
“Well?” I prompted.
“I’m not sure.”
“You’re not sure?” Anger welled up inside me. “So, that must mean you’re after something.”
“No, it doesn’t.” He let out a big breath.
“Then what?” Deep inside, I’d begun to quiver as if I’d caught a chill. At that moment, I knew what I truly wanted from him and was ashamed of myself for being so weak. Solomon’s body scent mixed with the aroma of wine and a musky aftershave wafted over me. My heightened senses even detected the breezy odor of fabric softener caught in the fibers of his shirt. However, I had to be strong. If I succumbed to my desires, it would set something into motion that I wasn’t sure I could handle.
Solomon strode away, leaving me feeling abandoned. “You would never understand what I want.”
“Why?” I asked.
“You can’t see beyond the end of your nose,” he said gruffly. He stared at the floor like a forlorn little boy then turned, looking at me. “You’re incapable of understanding.”
“Now you sound like a woman,” I quipped.
“No, I sound like you,” he threw back.
“You son of a—”
He stormed toward me. I couldn’t get my feet to shift into reverse fast enough. He jerked me into his arms, his mouth claiming mine with such passion my senses reeled.
Pushing him back, I gasped, “Don’t!”
“Don’t kiss you?” he breathed into my ear, sending gooseflesh over my shoulders and down my back. “I guess you’re incapable of passion too?”
“Shut up!” I shoved against his chest again.
“How about I shut you up?” Solomon retorted, his lips against my neck, his hands sliding over my ass.
He kissed me again, his mouth firm but soft, questing, tasting, leaving me breathless and—God help me—wanting more. The sensation of his hands on my body turned everything inside me into steamy liquid, as if mercury had replaced my bones. Dimly, I heard the television playing and the shriek of a car horn outside, but the sound of Solomon’s excited breathing captivated my ears. He wanted me. He desired long-limbed, smart-mouthed Ruby who could wield freaky powers.
“Let me make love to you,” he murmured, his face buried in the scooped neck of my dress.
“We shouldn’t,” I gasped.
Solomon’s tongue slid over the swell of one breast. “Please, Ruby...I can’t stay away from you.”
“Heaven help me,” I replied, quivering from head to toe. “We’ll regret this.”
“No we won’t,” he said into my ear. “We’re meant to be together. I don’t know how I know it, but we are.”
“That’s what scares me,” I whispered.
He tore at my clothes, and I yanked his shirt up over his head. Our garments flew helter-skelter, and within moments, he drew my naked body against his, and all rationale exited my head. With my breasts pressed against his firm, hot chest, my nipples hardened into painful peaks. He kissed my neck, his tongue swirling over the sensitive skin there, his hands roaming my waist, the small of my back, and over the curve of my ass.
An irresistible itch began in my loins, and the spring deep within my center started coiling tighter and tighter. What this man did to me! All I wanted was to join our bodies, strain against one another, and once we finished, start all over again.
He sucked my left earlobe into his mouth, flicked it with his tongue, his breath stirring the hair around my ear. He backed me toward the dresser, his manhood pushing eagerly against my lower belly. Once my rear connected with the furniture, Solomon hefted me onto its top. He bent his knees and slipped his cock along my folds without penetrating me.
“Please,” I said.
“Please what?” He nuzzled my neck again and trailed kisses down to my collarbone, his breath as hot as my fevered skin.
“You know what,” I gasped.
“I want to hear it.”
“Make love to me.”
At my words, he pushed into my body. His member stretched my core as he continued to shove deeper into me. With my eyes shut, I reveled in the feeling of him inside my body. He stretched me so that it burned but it also felt invigorating. He filled a void and inspired more of the insane need to have him touch me, to fill me up more, tighter, deeper. Whimpering, I waited for my body to adjust to his size, and then wrapped my legs around his waist.
When I opened my eyes, Solomon was gone. Instead, I saw his older crowned version, his eyes rolling back as he rode me. Blinking my vision away, I concentrated on Solomon. He slipped his arms around me and held me close. My breasts made contact with his bare chest, and he groaned, beginning a rhythm that prompted an intense, insatiable heat deep within my body.
The head of his cock bumped my womb gently. At that point, he’d pause and push in harder, burying himself in me up to his root then move back to thrust again. The sensations he created within my core spiraled outward on corkscrew fireworks of desire. The flames of it flashed through my body, and the need to jump off that precipice of pleasure silenced everything else within me. I couldn’t
get enough of this man. Even the aroma of his cologne, his own personal scent, and the musky pheromones in the room inebriated me. Solomon could screw me until the end of time, and I’d die a happy and very sated woman.
“Harder,” I whispered.
He started thrusting more forcefully. I tightened my legs, pulling his hips snugly against the apex of my thighs, his cock going deeper still. He bent and suckled one of my breasts, his tongue searing the nipple. A spear of need skewered me and propelled me over the edge. Insane with need, I bucked and arched vigorously. Solomon grunted and met every one of my hip actions. The mirror over the dresser banged on the wall as he bounced me across the furniture’s glossy top and up against the television set.
Whimpers, groans, and squeals tumbled from my lips. I slipped my hands around his waist and palmed his ass cheeks, digging my fingers into the flexing muscles. I wanted more, needed more, needed him deeper, harder, more forceful. As the coil within me continued to wind, I arched my back higher, and dug my heels into the backs of his thighs, urging him onward.
“Ruby!” he breathed an instant before seizing my mouth. He kissed me ruthlessly, stole my breath, bruising my lips, and I relished every moment.
The television fell off the dresser, and although it frightened me at first, I didn’t let up. I wanted Solomon to release his seed within me. I wanted to hear his shout of triumph as he filled me up. Still, he pummeled me, his sounds that of a ravenous animal. Suddenly, Solomon paused, and before I could cry out in disappointment, he pulled me into a sitting position and slipped his hands under my hips. He lifted me and strode to the door where he placed me firmly against it.
With my back and ass pressed to the door, and Solomon bent slightly so he could fully penetrate me, I let out a scream of pleasure as his cock pushed into its limit. He thrust harder and faster, over and over. The coil shattered, and sensations crashed through me on one tidal wave after another. I could only hold on to him, his hips pistoning, his breath heavy and fast.
Finally, he stiffened, and an almost anguished groan fled his lips. His cock pulsed, and liquid heat bathed my insides.
“Yes!” he yelled and pumped faster.
Totally sated, I clasped him to me so tightly my arms ached.
Solomon coaxed the last few drops of his essence into my body then turned with me in his arms and carried me to the bed. He slid out and spooned me.
With Solomon cradling me, I lay panting and enjoyed our afterglow.
What am I going to do when he decides to leave me?
He tightened his arms around me and kissed my nape.
I still couldn’t shake the sensation that there was something bigger going on than both of us realized.
What had we set in motion by making love?
Chapter Seventeen
Bright light seared my eyelids as I floated to the top of consciousness.
“Hey, get up!” Maureen cooed in my ear. “It’s a beautiful day. The humidity is down, the sky is blue, and I have breakfast.”
Grudgingly, I opened my eyes. Reality washed over me, and I scrambled to pull the sheet up to my chin.
She laughed and stepped over to the table where about an inch of red liquid remained in the wine bottle. An open box of doughnuts sat next to it with the name of a grocery store splashed in green across its cardboard side. Three large coffees kept the doughnuts company.
My stomach grumbled. Sitting up, I clasped the sheet tightly and looked around for my dress.
“I packed your dress and laid out a pair of shorts and a halter top from out of your bag,” Maureen said. She selected a long doughnut covered with white powder and oozing purple gel out one end. “Your clothes are in the bathroom along with your toiletries and your new sandals. I figured you’d want a shower before we check out this morning.”
“You seem to feel better,” I said, standing with the sheet wrapped around me.
“My skin is sore, but I don’t feel sick anymore,” she said. “As much sex as the two of you had last night, I’m surprised you can walk!” She laughed like a teenage girl who had just overheard a dirty secret. “You two woke me up at three this morning. Solomon must have the stamina of an elephant!”
“Maureen!”
“What?” she turned, looking at me innocently. Jelly clung to the sides of her mouth.
Mortified, I moved toward the bathroom and tripped over the damn Malamute. Between the sheet twisted around my feet and the dog scrambling out of the way, I don’t know how I kept from sprawling out on the floor. I stumbled through the bathroom door, slamming it behind me. Maureen’s laughter taunted me from the other side.
“Solomon took the SUV over to the gas station to fill it up,” she called through the door. “If you make it a quick shower, you can enjoy your breakfast without rushing.”
“Okay,” I mumbled and turned on the spigot.
As the water cascaded over me, I discovered my crotch and breasts were tender. Memories of Solomon’s kisses and caresses filled my mind, and a hot blush covered me despite the tepid water.
The vision of the older, crowned Solomon surfaced. What did it mean? I knew the man wasn’t Solomon, but he was too.
It didn’t take long to wash my hair and shave my underarms and legs. I quickly toweled off and dressed, grimacing at the discomfort between my legs, but it was a good soreness. I stood looking in the mirror and contemplated my freshly washed face and combed hair. A look of fulfillment inhabited my eyes, one I’d never seen before.
A fast application of facial moisturizer and skin powder gave me a completed look, but I finished it with a light dusting of blusher on my cheeks and eyelids then applied mascara. Lastly, I put my hair up in an unfinished ponytail for a poofy bun look.
When I stepped out of the bathroom carrying all my toiletries, Maureen struggled with putting the television back where it belonged. Heat flooded my face as I remembered Solomon and me falling recklessly upon the dresser, his hips thrusting against mine. Luckily, a chain attached to the back of the TV set had kept it from hitting the floor.
Evidence of our later sessions of wild lovemaking littered the room. The bedspread and pillows lay on the floor. The lamp rested on its side on the nightstand, its shade askew. The chair holding Solomon’s suitcase lay on its side, spilling the case’s contents across the carpet. My gaze came to rest on the motel room door. A forensics unit would have a field day analyzing the imprint of my ass on its shiny paint and the vague outline of the biker’s handprints melted into it.
Maureen glanced at me as she stooped to pick up the chair and suitcase. She grinned from ear to ear.
“I knew there was sexual tension between you two, but I had no idea how much!” She laughed.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, horrified she would say such a thing.
“And you think that I’m a bad girl!” She stuffed a shirt and a pair of trousers into the suitcase and zipped it shut. “I sure wish I could find someone who would make me holler like you did.”
“All right!” I shouted louder than I intended. “That’s enough! I get the point!”
Her lower lip popped out, and a childlike look entered her eyes. “Jeez, Ruby, you don’t have to be so touchy about it.”
“Well, it’s not something I normally do, nor do I want to talk about it.” Stomping over to my duffle bag on the floor, I dumped the toiletries into it and zipped it shut. “I’m just as surprised, if not more, than you are, okay?”
She straightened, placing her hands on her hips, her weight on her left leg, hip jutting. “I think you dig him more than you want to admit.”
“No, because I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t allow another man to hurt me.” The words popped out of my mouth so fast I couldn’t believe I’d said them.
“Who hurt you?”
“Just a guy.”
“Were you married?”
“No, I was very young, and I don’t want to talk about it.”
She sighed, and to my surprise, let the issue d
rop, but her next words startled me. “It’s nice to finally find a man who makes you feel like a real woman, isn’t it?”
Speechless, I could only stare at her. Maureen was right. For the first time, I felt like a woman both physically and emotionally.
I wondered, deep down, were we all simple animals? Was it possible a good roll in the sack—on the floor, the dresser, and against the door—could change a woman’s perspective? Was I so deprived or perhaps even that shallow? Or had Solomon merely filled a primordial need that I hadn’t realized was lacking?
Or, as strange as it might seem, had we reconnected after years of being apart? We were familiar to one another, so what other answer could there be?
“You like Solomon,” Maureen stated.
“Sure, I do.”
“No, I mean you like Solomon a lot.” She watched me in a way that told me there was more to Maureen than she let on. “You’re falling for him.”
“Shut up.”
“See?”
“Maureen, I just met the guy three days ago.”
“So?”
“So, you have no idea what you’re talking about, and you’re getting on my nerves,” I snapped.
“Have it your way,” she said sweetly, which made me want to slap her silly.
****
Later, we sped along I-95 again, but this time, Solomon drove. Maureen opted to sit in the back with the slobbering canine while I rode shotgun. The earlier conversation with Maureen haunted me. Occasionally, Solomon would throw a curious glance my way, but he never reached for me as a new lover would, and I was grateful. I needed time and a little space.
No one said much of anything over the next few hours. Solomon found a radio station playing a nice mixture of music from oldies to contemporary tunes. The dog snored in the backseat, his head on Maureen’s lap. Once in a while, Solomon would sing along with something.
We passed the Florida State line sign. The terrain still looked like Georgia’s, but within a few miles, the landscape would grow steadily more tropical. As the road followed the eastern edge of the state, the air quality would change, too, becoming briny instead of the putrid stench of the paper mills.
The Sorcerer King and the Fire Queen Page 16
