Roadside Assistance

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0.00 · 0 ratings · Published: Jul 8th, 2014 {{ book.ratingTitle }}
Sometimes things happen for a reason…


When Rick discovers that his long-term partner Michael is having a work affair with the office twink, their vacation through America’s Southwest is thrown in to disarray. Infuriated, he does the only thing he can think of; slamming the motel door and storming off into the night.


But biker Jag finds him on the side of the road, and Jag isn’t about to let justice not get served, even if he has to be the one to kick down the motel room door and make it happen.


Warning: This 8,000 word story drips with hot lust between a male biker and a mild-mannered man who hasn’t ever known seen the kind of action that Jag is about to show him. All of the characters are above the age of 18.


Excerpt


When the sweep of the headlight played across me I dutifully stepped further on to the side of the road, since getting run down on an otherwise deserted road I the middle of the night would be just my luck. Especially that night. I could see it, Michael hearing the news that his long-term lover was dead, a freak accident. He’d call Brent right away, of course, tell him everything in his smug shrug confession way, convince him that it was fate, that their love was meant to be.


Or maybe Brent will convince Michael, since Michael wasn’t capable of convincing anyone of anything, not really. Brent would be wearing the pants, that much was for sure.


The bike got closer, and when it did I pushed even farther off the road, hoping that whoever it was wouldn’t see me, or that if they did they’d respect the fact that a guy walking angrily down a desert road dragging a suitcase behind him was not in the mood for any form of conversation, no matter how helpful the person thought they were being.


My stomach did a crazy flip flop, though, when I heard the distinct noise of the engine slowing down, the steady rev going to a rough coughing throaty rumble as whoever was riding hit the brakes and pulled in behind me. The headlight was bright, but I didn’t bother to turn around. It threw my shadow out in front of me, and I looked up at it as if it were the very picture of my future, long and dark and plodding through the distance totally on his own.


“Hey,” a voice called, one that I found hard to ignore. I did, but it carried the kind of tone that’s used to being obeyed, and it was pretty hard not to respond to it.


I didn’t, though, opting instead to put my head down against the sudden chill of the desert at night and keep right on keepin’ on.


“Stop,” the voice called, and when I didn’t the engine roared back up to life.


He’s leaving, I thought to myself. He’s going! I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad one, but it turned out not to really matter because I was wrong. All he did was goose the Harley’s throaty engine and cruise up beside me, letting the momentum and some skillful balance keep pace with me as he spoke. “Where are you going, man?”

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