Burning Rubber - Excerpt

I sighed and wandered into my bedroom. I dumped my coveralls in the corner then slipped out of my jeans and sweater.

I had nice underwear on, for a change, pink with lace detail. Girlier than normal but it had been a present last Christmas from Nan. She was always trying to make me more feminine, bless her, but it had been a losing battle. Still, it was a shame the only man to touch me all year hadn’t seen them.

I huffed and shut the curtains. Gid was hardly the sort of man to appreciate pretty panties.

A scuffling noise in the kitchen grabbed my attention.

It was followed by a bang.

Damn cat. Was it trying to get through the sealed up cat flap?

I tutted and went to investigate.

But I only took two steps, to the end of my bed, when a large shadow stretched through the crack in my bedroom doorway and onto the wall and cream carpet.

My heart rate skittered and it felt as though a lump of lead had landed in my stomach. Adrenaline pumped into my veins and I caught my breath.

There was a man in my house.

An intruder.

Fuck! I hadn’t locked the side entrance.

I stepped backwards and glanced at the window. It was my only escape route.

My bedroom door was suddenly pushed open hard. It clattered against the wardrobe.

I gasped and prepared to fight.

Gid stepped into the room. His shoulders were so wide he had to turn slightly to get through the doorway and his bulk darkened the space around him.

“What the fuck?” I said.

He slipped his gaze down my body then right back up again.

My skin seemed to buzz, as if he’d actually caressed me. And my stomach tensed, way down low, reacting to his masculinity and the raw pheromones he’d brought with him. “What are you doing here?” I asked, putting my hands on my waist and jutting my hips.

He folded his arms—his hands were clenched into tight fists. “You should lock your door. There’s some bad folk around here.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” I said. “Ones that don’t pay their debts.”

He breathed deep and his nostrils flared. “Forget that shit.”

I tilted my chin. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Why am I here?”

“Yes.”

He unfolded his arms and stepped closer.

Damn, he was so fucking big and looked so out of place in my Nan’s old lady home that was decorated all flowery and in pastel colours.

“I couldn’t ride away from you,” he said.

“Why not? I’m sure you’ve driven away from hundreds of women.”

“Yeah, but fuck...you’re...you’ve got a brain up there—a biker brain.” He tapped his head.

“So I know my way around an engine or two.”

Suddenly he reached out and grabbed me round my upper arms. He pushed me up against the wall and glared down at me.

Excitement and fear warred within me. I could see what he wanted now. It was in his eyes. He wanted me. He wanted me in a very basic, animalistic way.

“I might be an asshole,” he said, “but I ain’t into rape so you better tell me now, blondie. Do you want it or not, ‘cause Heaven help me, I’m about to lose control and then I’ll just fuck till we both go unconscious.”

So he wasn’t as good at ignoring an erection as he’d pretended to be. Well, that suited me, because my control was slipping. I’d been neglecting my body’s needs for too long.

I stared at his face, his flashing eyes and the way a small muscle flexed in his cheek.

“One word,” he said through gritted teeth. “Yes or no. No and I’ll go. You’ll never see me again, choose yes and I—”

“Yes, fuck it, yes, yes, yes—”

His mouth hit down on mine, hard. Our teeth clashed and his tongue shoved forward. A thrill shot through me. What had I done? What had I unleashed?

His hands were everywhere, as though he wanted to touch me all over at once but didn’t know where to start. He lifted my bra, shoving it upwards so that my breasts bulged out underneath it.

My flesh felt alive—everywhere he explored was sparking with sensation. He tweaked my nipples, hard then harder.

I groaned at the sweet torment, clutched his shoulders and pulled him close.

But he had too many clothes on. If we were going to do this I wanted him naked, I wanted it all.

I pushed at his waistcoat.

He released my breasts and shrugged it off. He fisted his black Metallica T-shirt between his shoulders and tore that off too.

To carry on reading Sandra and Gid's story please purchase Burning Rubber.

Available from the publisher Totally Bound at SALE price and all other good ebook retailers. Go grab your copy and hang on for the ride!

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