This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Burnt Asphalt copyright @ 2014 by Joanna Wilson. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.
Burnt Asphalt
"So was this your plan the entire time?" Kat asked from the bathroom as she twisted her hair into a bun and pinned it.
Solomon hadn't moved from his place on her bed, content to lie there and watch her move around the bedroom, putting on her war paint and armor. Kat knew that was exactly what she was going to do; she never wore makeup, never put so much thought into her outfits. A smear of ChapStick and a shirt that smelled ‘okay’ was her usual ensemble.
But today wasn't a normal day. Today was the day that Kat either became the president of the Free Guns or something else. It was that something else she was worried about.
"Is that what you think, Kit-Kat?" Solomon chuckled, evading the question as he'd done for the last few days, ever since they'd gotten the call.
Sighing loudly, Kat nodded at herself in the mirror and went to the bedroom, standing at the foot of the bed with her hands on her hips. "Yes, that's what I think."
The sly, devilish man just smiled slowly and shifted on the bed, letting the white sheet covering most of his torso slide down and off. Don't look. Don't look. Kat reminded herself as she thought of the last time he'd avoided her by turning her mind and body into a pile of mush.
But she couldn't complain. Sex with Solomon was addictive, her new drug. It was fun, freeing, and delicious. Kat wrinkled her nose as her thoughts roamed back to sex. It wasn't as if sex was a taboo subject with her, but never had sex been so... She couldn't even put into words what sex with Solomon was like. The best she could say was that she was permanently dick-matized, happy being under, on top of, or beside the man as long as he loved her. And that wasn't just in the physical sense either.
Kat might have been able to blame it on Jamison's funeral turning her heart mushy and putting her emotions through the blender, but it had been three days since that dark day. Three days of hot, sweaty, animalistic sex with Solomon with the occasional passionate and emotional sex thrown in just for good measure. The man seemed to be able to give her just enough, but never too much, so that it was suffocating.
"Kit-Kat." Solomon's voice was husky, sleepy, and playful. That was one thing she'd never expected from him, playfulness. The man seemed to love to tease her; stroke her to the edge just for the fun of it. It was just another thing she'd learned about him, another thing she loved about him.
But he could take your position, take your club. Her conscious reminded her viciously, smacking her with the reality of her situation.
No one suspected Solomon of killing anyone anymore, and all his old cronies had jumped at the chance to get back on his good side and elect him their new leader. It was amazing how many people wanted to be his friend after they found out he was innocent. It was only worse that she had been the one to nearly take his life. It made Solomon look all the more innocent and her, an unreliable, kind-of-bitchy president.
A soft caress on her neck drew her out of her thoughts. Solomon was behind her, having moved when she'd been too consumed with her own guilt and misgivings over the upcoming election. Lips trailed fire across her collarbone. Solomon soothed the burn with a slow glide of his tongue. Unable to help herself, Kat tilted her head and let him kiss her. She couldn’t help it. Kissing Solomon was sweet and sour all at once, it made her crave more, but then regret craving it. There was such duality within Kat, but only one thing in her entire life was clear: her love for Solomon Parker.
I do love him. She knew that, without a doubt in her mind, her love for him was genuine.
"You look beautiful," Solomon whispered across her lips, his thick erection burning through the back of her tank top.
A smile curved her lips before she could help it. It wasn't the time for sex; they had a meeting to get to, a meeting they were already going to be late for.
"You need to get dressed."
"Do I?"
Kat moaned as his hand roamed her stomach up to her breast, pinching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. A moan escaped her before she could shut her lips.
Stormy rainwater eyes met hers, as Solomon smiled at her like the snake smiled at Eve. That smile grated on Kat’s nerves, and made her want to see another expression entirely.
Twisting in his arms, Kat dropped to her knees fluidly in front of him, smiling up at him with wide, clear eyes. “Kit-Kat, you’re not going to—”
Kat licked Solomon from the base of his dick to the very tip before taking him completely into her mouth in one swift move that made his thighs shake and knees buckle. She might not have been the biggest fan of blow jobs, but for Solomon, she made an exception. There was just something about Solomon that made her want to step out of her comfort zone, made her want to shed that tough skin she wore in front of the Free Guns for the fun-loving girl she used to be. Solomon Parker made her feel… wicked.
Maybe it’s the control factor? Kat thought, gently holding down Solomon's hips so he couldn't thrust into her mouth and gag her. There was just something about having a man moaning a girl’s name, and losing himself completely to make her feel positively cheery.
Kat tried to remember all the times her biker friends had talked about the recipe to a great blow job and the dos and don’ts. But almost instantly a naughty thought popped into her mind and, with all the time in the world, Kat slowly drew one of her hands across Solomon's hip and down between his muscular thighs. Very gently, Kat squeezed and massaged his balls, lightly running her fingernails against the sensitive flesh. If his deep and long groan of satisfaction was any indication, Solomon liked it. A lot.
Kat felt ready to take him a bit deeper. She relaxed her throat a little more and tried to give him the best blow job of his life. She let her hand wander further down to stroke just underneath his balls as she hummed softly in the back of her throat, remembering to breath through her nose and relax.
When Solomon surged into her mouth—nearly choking her—Kat was sure that she had done something very right. Solomon Parker wasn’t the type of man to lose his control, and if he did, it was only because he was purposely giving it up or because he had no choice. Kat thought it was the latter as his hip strained against her hand and he reached his hands down to tangle in her hair.
"Fuck, Kit-Kat!" Solomon gasped loudly and tugged at her hair helplessly. Laughing softly, Kat pulled back and licked the head of his dick, tasting the thick drop of pre-cum there.
"Careful, Solomon." Kat batted her eyes up at him and smiled coyly as she continued to massage his balls and slowly work her fingers up to the base of his dick. "I like my hair on my head."
Kat laughed softly before she went back to using her tongue and mouth on him. She was beginning to enjoy the taste of him on her tongue and the power she had over the big, bad biker. Solomon was completely at her mercy, and that thought alone was making her panties soaking wet. She didn’t even know why she’d bothered getting dressed when she subconsciously knew that they’d be doing this anyway.
"Fuck, Kat! Stop it or I’m going to cum down your throat," Solomon croaked, tugging at her hair gently, but urgently.
She gave his balls one last squeeze and his dick one last lick before moving
her hands up his torso and pushing him back towards the bed, until he fell, and she climbed on top of him. Kat watched as Solomon wrapped his arms around her and sat up, his dick laying nearly flat against his stomach.
The air around them was charged, electrified. Before Kat knew it, Solomon was kissing her furiously, claiming her lips like he did every inch of her body. Lips sucked and nipped as his hands roved over her curves and dragged her even closer.
Drawing back from the kiss, Kat gasped in air and slowly moved her hips, grinding herself on his thigh. Solomon sat up and bent her back over his arm, giving Kat a clear view of the floor under her. Only being supported by his forearm freaked Kat out a little and she tried to lean forward, but Solomon’s hot mouth latched onto her nipple, sending pleasure shooting through her body.
"Oh! Sweet Jesus..." Kat moaned as he toyed with her nipples, using his teeth, tongue, and very skillful fingers to bring her pleasure.
Having a mind of their own, Kat’s fingernails trailed across his shoulders and back, biting into him when he hit a specific spot that sent electricity coursing through her. But even as Kat was enjoying his ministrations she wanted the control back—needed it.
"Solomon, I want to... Lord... try something!" She forced out a high-pitched gasp, as he blew hot air across one nipple while his fingers manipulated the other.
"Anything, Kit-Kat. What did you have in mind?"
Kat could almost laugh out loud at the casual note in his tone, but she was too busy moaning. "C-Condom first, and then..." her voice trailed off again, as the pleasure hit her with drugging force.
Solomon nodded and lifted his head, motioning for her to stand back up. Kat slowly got up, gently teasing him by rubbing her thigh against his erection. She got a dirty look from him, and a drop of pre-cum from his hard erection.
Kat had been dying to try something she had seen in one of those Kama Sutra books at the bookstore, but it hadn't been appropriate for one-night stands. With gentle force, she pushed Solomon back so he was sitting in the middle of the big bed, a curious expression on his face.
Maneuvering herself, she climbed on the bed backwards and slowly crawled back until her butt hit Solomon's stomach. Kat knew she was ready and really didn't need any more foreplay. She felt his hands grip her hips, and was glad for the balance as she levered herself up onto her knees.
"You ready?" Kat panted as she turned to face Solomon and watched realization dawn on his face. His hands gripped her hips a fraction tighter.
Reaching down between them, Kat grabbed his dick hearing him gasp out, and slowly began to lower herself onto him. Fuck he’s big this way! she thought frantically as she began to take him into her.
"I'm too big this way, Kit-Kat. I might actually break you." Solomon chuckled against her back, though the sound was strained.
“I’m willing to take that chance.”
Smiling past the discomfort, Kat swiveled her hips and ignored him as broken sighs and moans peeled from her lips, and the base of his dick kissed her ass. Kat trailed a hand across her breast, tweaking her nipple and feeling her muscles clamp tightly on him. They both moaned as she reached further down, giving his balls a quick tease before trailing her fingers further up.
"I want to..." Kat bit out, fingers poised over her clit.
She turned her neck to face Solomon, who wore a grim expression like he was in a lot of pain. He looked up into her eyes, managing a smile. Kat felt one of his hands reach up to her hair and grip her scalp while the other trailed around her body, fitting itself to her poised hand.
"Together." He took her lips in a brutal kiss and maneuvered their fingers to her clit.
Kat cried out into his mouth as both their fingers manipulated her clit into orgasm. Her body exploded as she pulled back from the kiss and bit Solomon's shoulder to keep from screaming. But it wasn't over, not by a long shot.
And right then Kat knew: they were going to be really, really late.
***
It was a little over an hour later, and not only were they late, but both their phones had been destroyed because, after the third call, Solomon had chucked both their phones across the room. Kat hadn't heard the break, too wrapped up in Solomon, but after the haze had faded, she noticed a bit of glass in the corner and two broken small, blinking screens.
"Relax, Kit-Kat," Solomon purred as he rested his hand on her hip and steered her towards the bar.
Kat stared up through her lashes at him, feeling a frown tug at her lips. Solomon Parker didn't play fair, he wasn't known to. That's why Kat knew she had to have her defenses up and ready and be sharp as a tack.
"Are you trying to take over my club?"
Kat felt Solomon's hand clench against her waist before he released it. "When did it become your club?"
"It's always been my club," Kat bit off, stopping to turn to Solomon. She put her hands on her hips. "My club, my friends, mine to protect."
They'd fucked. Big whoop. She wasn't about to become his love slave or bend to his every command. If he wanted the Free Guns, then he'd have to go through her. Kat wasn't about to turn the club over to Solomon so that the members could slip back into drugs, violence, and general debauchery.
The club meant more to her than her budding relationship; more to her than Solomon.
He stared at her for a long second, rainwater eyes judging her every move—assessing and calculating. When he spoke, it was quietly, probing her for answers. "And what if they don't hold you in the same light, Kat? What if the people you hold and trust most, are the ones who would so easily betray you?"
She knew what he was talking about, bringing it back up. When he'd been kneeling in front of her, prepared to die, no one had spoken up for him. Kat had been seconds from putting a bullet between his eyes, and all his cronies, all the ones who'd backed him up before had suddenly vanished.
Biting the inside of her lip, Kat knew that was a possibility in this situation, too. She might love the Free Guns—have some friends and enemies—but at the core being president meant being popular. And at the moment, Kat knew she wasn't that.
Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Kat looked down at the asphalt and tuned out the country music pouring out from the bar. "Then they weren't my friends at all and I'd really need to evaluate the term."
Solomon's face drew tight, his lips pulling wide in what only the devil would call a smile. "'Reevaluate' would be the last thought on your mind, Kit-Kat. Betrayal always stays with a person—a cut that never heals. Few people are exceptions to the rule."
A shiver raced down her back as he said the last line, his eyes boring into her as his meaning penetrated. Solomon Parker had just told her he forgave her for nearly killing him, but she knew it would be the one and only time he would extend that particular emotion to her.
Turning away from the man who was beginning to affect her heart, to the place that had always had it, she spoke: “We should head inside.”
***
“Shut up, bitch! You’re the one that nearly killed him!” The insult was hurled across the rowdy room and directly at Kat, but she barely heard it above the other screams and shouts for her resignation and the screams and shouts for her to stay president.
It had been an uphill battle since she’d walked into the bar with Solomon beside her. Someone had hissed out, “How could you forgive that bitch after what she did to you?” And then the insults had started flying.
At first, Kat had tried to settle everyone down, but when that hadn’t worked she’d let the anger run its course. Now, 15 minutes later, she was sick of waiting for the Free Guns to quiet and pull their heads out of their asses.
Taking in a deep breath, Kat climbed up on the bar ledge—careful of drinks—and turned to address her club. “Come on, guys, that’s enou—”
The sound of glass breaking to her right sent a shiver down her spine. Kat turned to see one of Solomon’s big, burly biker cronies charging towards the bar with a broken bottle in one hand and murder in his eyes. Kat f
orgot the man’s name, but she knew he didn’t like her. She’d turned down his advances a number of times and kicked him in the crotch when he’d gotten a little too handsy. Here was the perfect opportunity for his restriction.
But, with a series of swift moves, Solomon was up and sitting beside her on the bar with one foot on a stool and his gun out and pointed at the man. Every voice in the bar grinded to a halt as Solomon clocked his gun warningly at the man who used to be his friend and very casually, very deliberately snaked his hand around Kat’s waist and pulled her onto his lap.
Tension crawled against Kat’s skin as she looked over the faces of people who had taught her and helped her find herself; most looked shocked, some betrayed, and a few… disappointed. The disappointment hurt the worst. It wasn’t as if people hadn’t known she’d slept with Solomon Parker, but it was one thing to imagine it had happened and another to see the evidence laid out for them.
It wasn’t like the club was sacred, or every member clean of sin, but some bridges didn’t get crossed. Sleeping with Jamison’s supposed murderer—no matter if he had been falsely accused and it was all an accident—didn’t sit well with a lot of the club.
Burnt Asphalt: A Biker Erotic Romance (Free Guns MC) Page 1
