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Motorcycle Man

Motorcycle Man

Description : Motorcycle Man
“Babe, you awake?” he called, his warm hand moving down my spine, taking the sheet with it, making my skin tingle anding to rest just above my bottom.

I smiled.

I had done it. I finally had done it. I found him. He was right there in bed with me and it wasn’t the tequila talking. I had way too much but not too much that I didn’t know he was it.

He was the one. This motorcycle man in bed with me was the man of my dreams.

I never would have guessed it would be a man like him but I knew it was. I knew it the minute I saw him across the forecourt, through the sea of people, all of them laughing, drinking, shouting, dancing, eating, necking or fighting. It wasn’t my scene but Eloise had invited me, told me I needed to be a member of the family, so I went. This was going to be my new life, I’d made that decision and I had to embrace it. So I did.

He saw me too and it was my motorcycle man who sought me out. Then he plied me with tequila but he didn’t need to. I was his the minute he sauntered through the crush to get to me, his eyes never leaving mine, his lips surrounded by that kickass goatee curved into a sexy grin. When he’d made it to me, he’d said, “Hey,” in a deep, gravelly voice and that was it.

Then we shot tequila, talked a bit and laughed a lot.

An hour later, he took my hand and guided me to a room in the motorcycle club’spound and now, several hours later, I was na**d in bed with him having been given so many orgasms I lost count and I knew he was it. He was the shadowy-faced man I’d been daydreaming...