Taken for a Ride
This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All characters represented within are eighteen years of age or older and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This work is property of Raminar Dixon, please do not reproduce illegally.
From the book:
I turned my head away from him and tried to squirm free, but he held me fast and pressed his mouth to my neck. There, he tasted my sweat; running the warm ring of his mouth under my earlobe, suckling the delicate skin there before carefully working his way down to my collarbone.
“Stop! Get off me!” I said loudly, and tried to ignore the feelings swirling around and through me.
His hands were alive and going where they wanted, cupping my tender breasts and caressing them through the thin pink t-shirt I wore. The short, rough hairs on his chin scratched exquisitely against me, like the lightest sandpaper rubbing against the creamiest velvet.
My struggling calmed as the fear of what he would do to me was replaced by the low ache of my desire. A moan escaped my lips as his fingers found my crotch, rubbing there with intensity and stoking the fire.
He was wrong. I didn’t want this anymore. I needed it.
“Don’t look now Terry, but lover boy and his buddies are back,” Tracy whispered to me with a buzzed giggle. With a foolish smile spread across her face my friend pointed with a tilt of her head towards the group of men walking into the bar behind me.