Ride to Fight: A Biker Erotic Romance (Free Guns MC) (3 page)

 

Need. Want. Fuck. Yes.
It was maddening.

 

“I’m… so close,” Kat moaned, writhing on the leather of the back seat, eyes shut tight and seeing stars.

 

Solomon’s voice was rough, like he’d drunk something and it had burned his throat. “Say it, Kat. Say it and I’ll break you.”

 

Break me
. He’d said something similar before, the first time they’d had sex. Kat still remembered it, his promise. “The minute I stop calling you Kit-Kat is the minute I break you.”

 

The thought was tempting. Kat knew that she wanted him to break her, knew that at that moment, she’d give him anything he wanted if he just let her come. The words were on the tip of her tongue, her reason was out the window.

 

“I love—"

 

“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

 

The words brought her crashing back down. It hurt. She wanted Solomon so bad, wanted everything he was prepared to give her. Not just his dick, but his life, his heart. That was what he was offering with every stroke, every lick. She knew that.

 

Kat knew that if she said the words now she would no longer be president of the Free Guns, there was just too much bad blood there. She also knew that if she said the words, Solomon wouldn’t let her go. Three simple words would change her entire life and leave her future in Solomon’s hands.

 

Three little words changed everything.

 

Kat took a breath, paused, and stayed on the cusp of orgasm. This was it, make or break. “I love you.”

 

A thick, hard dick replaced Solomon’s fingers as he thrust into her so hard Kat knew she wouldn’t be able to walk out of the car. But he’d carry her, be with her, always. “I love you too, Kat.”

 

***

 

A few hours later, they were lying in bed with the curtains drawn shut when Kat’s phone rang. It was almost nine in the evening, and for the last few hours Solomon had made love to her, taking her in every position, exhausting her appetite for sex. The man was simply amazing in bed, which was one of the reasons Kat loved him so much.

 

Voice groggy, hair bedraggled, and Solomon draped over her body like the warmest blanket, Kat answered the phone. “Hello?”

 

“Kat?” John asked instantly, skipping any pleasantries.

 

Kat was alert in a heartbeat, rubbing her eyes and sitting up straight in bed. Solomon struggled through layers of sleep, but was awake with her in a second, brows knitted in concern. “What is it, John?”

 

“Solomon’s old cronies are getting antsy. They’re talking shit about you and calling for an election. They want you out of the club and Solomon as the president.”

 

Whipping her head to face Solomon, Kat caught the smile that tugged at his lips.
The bastard knew this would happen.
She could see it in his eyes, in the relaxed stance of his body. Solomon had expected this outcome, predicted it, probably orchestrated it.

 

Kat didn’t know whether to be proud or furious. She loved a man who was blatantly undermining her authority.

 

“When do they want the election?” Kat couldn’t keep the anger out of her voice as her eyes skimmed Solomon’s rock-hard abs and zoomed in on the large tent formed by the sheets around his groin area. Although it should have been impossible, she should have been sore for a week more at least, she wanted him again. Kat was tight, throbbing, and wet, and she wanted Solomon Parker again.

 

“As soon as possible, Kat.” John replied with a frustrated sigh.

 

“Tell them it’ll be handled Friday, but some members still need time to grieve.”
And fuck their rivals.

 

Kat felt only marginally bad that she was putting off the election to stay in bed with Solomon, but she knew that come next week she might hate his guts and want to rip him to shreds. It was good to treasure the peaceful times.

 

“Got it.”

 

Kat smiled as she climbed on top of Solomon and opened herself to him. On an upward thrust, Kat tilted her head back, bit back her gasp, and responded to John. “Bye.”

 

 

Read on for an Excerpt from
Burnt Asphalt
, the sequel to
Ride to Fight

 

Burnt Asphalt - excerpt

 

"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
armour. Kat knew that was exactly what she was doing to do; she never wore makeup, never put so much thought into her outfits. A smear of chap stick and a shirt that smelled ‘okay’ was her usual ensemble.

 

But today wasn't a normal day, today was the day the 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 smile 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 knew 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 misgiving over the upcoming election. Lips trailed fire across her collarbone, soothing the burn with a slow glide of his tongue. Unable to help herself, Kat tilted her head and let him kiss her. It was one thing she couldn't help. 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, that 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 the tank top she wore.

 

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?"

 

 

Enjoyed
Ride to Fight?
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