A Lucky Break: A Modern Match-Maker Romance

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A Lucky Break: A Modern Match-Maker Romance Page 11

by Rocklyn Ryder


  I watch him wander around for awhile, black hoodie all cinched up around his face, black sweat pants. Got his riding boots and gloves on. Can't get a good look at him, but I guess it's probably pretty cold this time of morning. Teach the kid right for not knowing the limits of his bike and gettin' stuck out here.

  Ninja whines at the door for me to follow her outside and play and then doesn't wait for me before she's back down the stairs, chasing whatever dogs find to chase while I find my house shoes and head out after her.

  When I get downstairs she's MIA. It's not like her to wander too far for too long and I don't like that she hasn't come running back here with one of her toys covered in drool for me to throw for her.

  I hear her shrill barks coming from out front and I know what she's up to. At least I don't have to worry about her anymore, now I'm just pissed that she's not coming when I call her.

  Sure enough, as I round the corner of the store, I see her jumping all over the kid sitting on his--

  Not cool. Fuck. This is not cool.

  I feel my jaw lock as I keep heading toward the two of them.

  Ninja's got her tail wagging like crazy and she's yipping excitedly as she watches me get closer but the little shit won't budge from her new friend.

  And I don't know what the fuck to do next.

  Because the kid with the dirt bike is sitting on the concrete looking at me like I hung the motherfucking moon...and she's gorgeous.

  The black hoodie is gone thanks to the sun getting up over the hills and now I can see the long, golden braid draped over her shoulder and hanging across one of two of the perkiest tits I've ever seen. She ain't wearing a bra either. Her breasts are free under the thermal shirt she's got on, her nips hard as small, sharp rocks poking through the waffle weave.

  Her legs are stretched out straight in front of her and she's bracing herself with one hand behind her while Ninja just stands across the chick's lap like she owns the girl.

  The girl looks like this isn't her first night outside, the braid she's got her hair pulled back in is a mess of renegade strands trying to escape. There's a dirt smudge across one side of her forehead and it's easy to imagine her leaving it as she wipes the back of her glove across her face.

  It doesn't take my overactive imagination to be able to tell she's got a hot little figure on her. Those tits are on full display despite being completely covered, and I can see the way her waist nips in tight and the flare of her ass against the cement.

  I'd like to see her standing up.

  I'd like to see her naked.

  I'd like to see her bent over in front of me while I watch my dick disappear inside her.

  It's been too damn long since I got laid. This chick might clean up damn good, but that doesn't mean she wants to ride my cock all day while we wait for the tanks to get refilled.

  I gotta stop picturing that pouty mouth wrapped around my dick.

  What the fuck am I going to do with some chick hanging out around the place for the next few days while my gas tanks are empty and my balls are full?

  "What the fuck are you doing here?" I don't know how I forget about the small motorbike leaning on its kickstand by my gas pump but I do.

  The look on her face goes from adoring gaze to woman scorned in less than a second as she pulls herself out from under Ninja and gets to her feet.

  "I need gas," she says with a jerk of her head toward the pump while she wipes her hands on her pants.

  There's an edge in her voice that's all sass and sarcasm. It suits her and even though I kinda want to smack her ass just to show her who's boss around here, I also kinda want to smack her ass because now that she's up on her feet I can see it better.

  It's an ass worth smacking.

  She stands by the pump, staring at me and waiting for me to respond.

  "When do you open up?" She points her chin at the store and narrows her eyes at me.

  I finally answer, "Store opens at 7."

  "7?" She gives my shirtless chest a scowl, "Isn't that about 15 minutes ago?"

  Hell, I don't know. I don't have a watch on, I don't bother carrying my cell phone around since there ain't no damn signal out here anyway. I'm not usually standing in front of my store half naked this time of morning with a pounding headache from staying up too late, drinking too much booze the night before while a beautiful woman stares me down like I'm trash.

  So much for any notions I was entertaining about inviting her to stay in the apartment with me while she waits for the tanker to get here. Turns out she's kind of a bitch. Probably one of those man-hating feminazi types that's angry with me just for having a penis.

  Fuuuck-- my eyes can't help but slide down her body, taking their time around those curves-- what a shame, I think.

  "So are you planning on opening this place up today?" Her voice borders on being downright hateful, "I need some gas."

  She jerks her head toward her bike. Some foreign thing with a small engine that's more dirt bike than motorcycle. She's got her tent and stove packed back up and everything's cinched down on the back of the seat so there's just enough room for her cute little ass left for sitting.

  Damn bike probably has a 2 gallon gas tank. It can't have a very good range on it. Where ever she came from, where ever she's going, she must be on a tour of America's lesser frequented gas stations.

  "There ain't no gas," I inform her curtly as I turn on my heel and head back to my place.

  "Come on, Ninj!" I call as I walk off. Of course, the damn mutt doesn't budge. She sits her ass down right on top of our new tenant's boots and stares at me like I canceled Christmas.

  "Fine, stay with your new BFF," I mutter under my breath. The girls outnumber me now and apparently neither one of them think much of me.

  Now Available

  BONE: A Wild Romance

  by Rocklyn Ryder

  About Rocklyn:

  I'm currently living in a 200 square foot cottage in Tahoe with a dog that hates me. It's a beautiful place to live but I've never been good at putting down roots. I love a good road trip and have been known to wander aimlessly for weeks at a time. My dream house is an Airstream trailer.

  In real life, my endings tend toward the "happily for now" rather than the "ever after." Some people will tell you that's because I'm jaded. I prefer to think of it as "unwilling to settle."

  I like writing steamy scenes between boys that are all hard muscle and soft hearts and the women they choose to claim as their own.

  And my book boyfriends always measure up to my standards!

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