Free Blood and Tears: A Biker Erotic Romance (Free Guns MC) by Joanna Wilson Page A

the ladies’ restroom?” Kat turned away from the sink and arched a wet brow at him.
     
    A slow laugh was his only response as he took a step closer to her and made Kat tilt her head up. She wasn’t short, but Solomon was a large man. At six foot five the whole damn world was short to him.
     
    “I wanted to say how sorry I am that we lost Jamison. He was a good man.” Solomon said with a tip of his head, though Kat could hear what he really wanted to say: A good man, but a mediocre leader.
     
    Cocking her hip against the sink and hearing the metal of her gun meet the porcelain, Kat crossed her arms and looked him square in the eye. “Did you kill him?”
     
    Stormy blue eyes met hers as Solomon took another step closer and leaned down until Kat could feel his breath tickle her lips. “I wouldn’t tell you even if I did, Kit-Kat.”
     
    “Stop calling me Kit-Kat!” Kat snapped as her eyes sparked with indignation. Nine years later and the bastard still called her that nickname. He was the only man in the club who’d given her a nickname even though they’d never slept together. Usually men liked to call her “sugar” or “baby” after they’d fucked and at that point Kat would already be out the door and three steps away from her bike.
     
    “The minute I stop calling you Kit-Kat will be the minute I’ve licked you, sucked you, and broke you.” Solomon pressed closer, the hard bulge in his jeans resting against the tautness of Kat’s stomach. “But you’d like to be broken by me, wouldn’t you, Kit-Kat?”
     
    Kat locked her jaw and stared back at him. There was scarcely any space between them, hardly any room to suck in air that didn’t smell like Solomon. She was torn. Torn between knowing that what he was suggesting would likely ruin her and the Free Guns, and knowing that if she didn’t at least try it once, give them both what they wanted, she might never get the chance again.
     
    No one made her feel the way Solomon made her feel. No one made her question her sparse principles and rules the way Solomon did. And if Kat was being honest, every time she went home with a man, every time she climbed on top of a man and fucked him, she wished he was Solomon.
     
    In that moment, there were only two options Kat saw: Solomon or the Free Guns.
     
    Before Kat could make the decision it was taken out of her hands. Solomon’s lips came crashing down on hers, stealing her words with his tongue. Kat didn’t hesitate, didn’t think past his mouth and body pressed hard against her.
     
    They were done talking, and she was okay with that.
     
    Solomon’s hands reached under her, grabbing her ass and lifting her up onto the sink. The faucet stabbed at the small of her back, but Kat couldn’t care too much because Solomon was right. She did want to be broken by him. It was a novice feeling to want a man so badly, to feel that lust and desire so keenly that the thought that she couldn’t help but give herself completely to it.
     
    There was no finesse in their fucking. No long languid kisses, or soft strokes to get the fire going. The fire was now in full blaze and when Solomon tore his lips away from her pulled her away and flipped her body so she could feel his cock straining against her ass, Kat was ready. So. Fucking. Ready.
     
    “Hurry!” She panted as she fumbled with the button of her fly. Solomon pushed her clumsy fingers away and tore at the zipper, yanking her pants down and leaving them wrapped around her ankles. A second later she heard the similar sound of metal sliding against metal, cloth against cloth, and then he was there.
     
    Thick, hard, and throbbing against her. Kat didn’t even realize her panties had been yanked down along with her jeans until she felt his cock against her. Solomon’s hands were at her waist pulling her back, positioning her hips.
     
    “Hold onto the sink,” he commanded in a voice that Kat had never heard him use. It was rough, sexy, completely