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Book 1 of 5. Her Midnight Ride Omnibus (B00CEOR2LU) now available with all five stories plus bonus story.
Greg walks into the bar on Janelle's night out and it's lust at first sight. She never thought she'd feel like that about a white guy, but sexy biker Greg isn't like any of the men she's met before.
Unfortunately, one of her past conquests just won't leave her alone. When she puts Errol down so she can hook up with Greg, he vows to get his revenge.
Back at Greg's place, there are secrets in the air, but once they get in the bedroom Janelle's too busy to worry about what she doesn't know.
Will disapproving friends and Errol's temper mean it's just a one-night stand, or will Janelle find a way to see Greg again?
This short story is roughly 8,700 words long and is not intended for readers under the age of eighteen.
"I haven't seen you in here before."
"You mean, 'what's a white guy like you doing in here?'"
I felt a little awkward, but he shot me a teasing smile and I grinned back. "Okay. What are you doing in here?"
"Killing time till my lift arrives."
"My bike's not at its best." He patted his helmet. "I didn't want to carry on riding it and risk an accident, so my friend's coming to pick me up."
"Oh." My fantasy of riding off into the sunset on the back of his Harley burst into a shower of disappointment. At least he wasn't intending to drink and drive. "So you'll be off soon." Did that sound as desperate to him as it did to me?
"Maybe." He raised his eyebrows. "Maybe not."
I watched him take another sip of beer, a pleasant tickle of warmth growing in my chest. We both knew where this was going, but he seemed to enjoy dancing around it. Well, two could play that game. "Really? Why would you possibly want to hang around here?" I put my hand on my hip and leaned on the bar, doing my best attempt at cocky. He'd obviously had more practice than me - he put down his drink and smirked down from almost a foot above me.
"I don't know. Can you think of anything?"
"Nope. Nothing." I reached for my gin and tonic and took a long drink, watching him over the rim of the glass before I put it down again.
"There might be something," he said. Then he came in close and stared down at me. The worn smell of his leathers mingled with his spicy aftershave, conspiring to make me do something rash. He was all man - big and self-assured with rough edges. "I like your boots," he mumbled.
"Me too." We weren't touching - not yet - but I could feel the heat of his body radiating out through his t-shirt. A sprig of chest hair spilled out of his neckline. It made me long to run my fingers all over him. I could imagine the rasp of his stubble under my hand. I saw myself tangling my fingers in his chest hair and pressing against the firm body underneath.
His full lips begged to be kissed, but I wanted him to make the first move. He had to want me more.
"Want to come for a ride?"
"I thought your bike had broken down."
He brought his lips down to my ear and another wave of his aftershave washed over me. God, he smelled good. I nearly jumped him right there and then.
"I wasn't talking about the bike," he whispered.
About Neneh J. Gordon
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Published November 12, 2012
by French Letters Press.
Romance, Erotica, Literature & Fiction.