DJ Drunken Monkey gives me a nod before switching to a fast paced techno song; therefore, killing the mood I have worked so hard to build. It sucks, but it’s his business, so he can only keep it low and slow for so long.
Taking my companion by the hand, I lead us off the dance floor and to the bar then guide her to a stool in front of me. I raise my beer up to Juliette, the bartender, and she nods her understanding as she serves the woman in front of her before making her way over to me with another cold one.
“Whatcha havin’ to drink, darlin’?”
“Shirley temple,” she whispers as I take a long pull of my beer.
“No alcohol? Worried much?”
“I don’t plan to be a statistic, pal.”
I smile at her sass. “Pal, huh? In order to be pals, I should probably know your name, darlin’.”
“Well, my name’s not darlin’ or even Darlene.”
“Ouch.” I wink. “For someone so friendly on the dance floor, why the cold shoulder now?”
“Cut the crap. You have no real interest in me. What am I, some bet with your friends? Where are they?” She looks around us dramatically before sighing. “I see, the deal is they have to wait till you get me to agree to leave with you then all get together and laugh as you reject me?”
I raise my eyebrow in question at her.
“Ohhhh … not into humiliating the chunky girl. What? Is this a walk on the wild side for you tonight? Or should I say walk on the fat side? More cushion for the pushin’, ya know.”
Then it dawns on me. Insecurity. Unfortunately, I see this time and time again with women. The past rears its ugly head or the words of some punk ass puts a woman on the defense that a man couldn’t seriously want to seek out a curvy girl.
I reach out and cup her chin to bring her face up to look at me. “I don’t know who put all this negative in your head, but baby, all I see is beauty.” Setting my beer on the bar, I run my hand over her hair, lifting the long, blonde strands to my nose to inhale. “Soft, sweet beauty. From the depth in your blue eyes to the swell of your full breasts to the curve of your ass to the very tips of your toes is soft, sweet beauty.”
She watches me as if she is trying to gauge if I am real. She pulls her face out of my grip to look at her untouched drink like she’s unsure whether it’s spiked.
“Darlin’, you haven’t had a drop. I didn’t drug you. I’m here after a long day of work, alone. Honestly, as gorgeous as you are, I wanna take my time and savor every part of your body. Tonight, I wouldn’t be good enough to you, so baby, I’m not planning to take you home. I just wanna dance with you, get your number, and take you out sometime. No expectations.”
She laughs at me as if she still can’t believe me.
I have been known to have a one-night stand or two, but nothing like Maverick or Heath in the past. My tastes in women are selective. Not just any woman will do. I like my woman to be self-assured. I want her comfortable in her own skin. Soft, sweet beauty, that’s what I want.
Needing her to understand, I lean in and whisper in her ear. “Listen carefully. I like my women to be all woman. I want her curves to be my road map to search out every highway, lane, and back road to treasures hidden. I wanna trace every path to tempt every sweet spot to be found. I don’t need a twig that, as I spread her legs and slam into her, I split her in two. I need a woman who can push back as hard as I push in. I want a woman I can use as a canvas to finger paint a masterpiece in chocolate all over her naked body. I want a woman I can share a meal with and not feel like I’ve fucked up her diet for a month. Like I said, I want my woman to be all woman—soft, sweet beauty.”
She swallows hard as I pull back. “You’re serious.”
“Let’s start with my name is Lance. My friends call me Rush.”
“Rush, huh?” she questions with a smirk.
“Yeah, darlin’, Rush. Take a ride with me, and I’m sure to give you a rush.”
She picks up her drink and begins to suck hard on her straw, like she wants that drink to swallow her whole.
Feeling eyes on us, I look over her shoulder to see her girls heading our way, watching suspiciously.
“Well, Shirley, your friends are on their way to rescue you from the big, bad wolf. It was a nice chat. Enjoy your night.” I turn to walk away, but she reaches out to grab me.
“Shirley?” she questions, making me smile as I fight not to laugh.
“You haven’t given me your name. That’s a guy’s cue to walk away.”
“Oh.” She blows out a breath. “My name is”—she hesitates—“Ashlynn. Sorry, for being … ummm”—she pauses and looks down—“bitchy… being bitchy. I’m just not used to a hot guy dancing with me and trying to buy me drinks without a hidden agenda.”
I smile at her. “You think I’m hot? Well, that’s a start.” I lean back against the bar as her friends approach.
The three girls settle in behind Ashlynn, and one of them whispers in her ear, but with the noise around me, I can’t discern what is being shared. Ashlynn nods her head and smiles before her friends retreat back to the dance floor.
“Did I pass the inspection?”
“I suppose so.” She smiles, erasing the tension. “I was burned pretty badly before, so my girls are just looking out.”
“I understand completely.” Reaching out, I twist her hair around my fingers. “Beautiful woman, someone has to keep an eye out for you.”
She blushes and eases into the conversation. We spend a little time chatting, but the offer to exchange numbers isn’t extended before her friends decide to leave. Calling it a night, I head out myself.
I wish women as beautiful as her didn’t have to feel so bad about themselves. With a bright smile, long hair, and curves for days, why would she not think she is gorgeous? Someone somewhere along the way did a number on her.
Shaking my head, I climb on my 2002 Honda 954 custom sport bike then don my helmet, pushing aside my thoughts of women and the damage so easily inflicted on their confidence. As I pull away into traffic, I lean back, pop the clutch out, and throttle down until my front comes up. The rush of the wheelie calms my nerves and releases my day as I safely bring the bike down and make my way home.
One ride, one rush, and one life—live every moment to the fullest and give back as hard as you get. The pavement is an unforgiving beast like demons from the past, so release and feel the rush as you leave it all behind.
The story continues in Lance (Roughneck Shorts 3 – available on Amazon and in Kindle Unlimited). Also available through all retailers in the Roughneck Shorts Box Set. http://amzn.to/1VMspcl
Visit Chelsea at
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1—Catarina
Chapter 2—Jag
Chapter 3—Catarina
Chapter 4—Catarina
Chapter 5—Jag
Chapter 6—Catarina
Chapter 7—Jag
Chapter 8—Catarina
Chapter 9—Jag
Chapter 10—Jag
Chapter 11—Catarina
Chapter 12—Catarina
Chapter 13—Jag
Chapter 14—Catarina
Chapter 15—Jag
Chapter 16—Jag
Chapter 17—Catarina
Chapter 18—Jag
Chapter 19—Jag
Chapter 20—Catarina
Chapter 21—Jag
Chapter 22—Catarina
Chapter 23—Jag
Epilogue—Catarina
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Excerpt of Angel’s Halo (Angel’s Halo MC) by Terri Anne Browning
Excerpt of Lance (Roughneck Series) by Chelsea Camaron