Biker Bar

Megan has heard all about what happens to innocent women who goes to the Biker Bar. They're bound, spanked, and filled. She's a good girl and should stay far, far away. Instead, she shows up at the door and start undressing, tempting the sexy men in leather suits to take her where she stands. Once the dominant, arrogant alpha men laid eyes on her, they knew they had to have her.

~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~

Tank smelled like motor oil and pine. “I'm Megan,” I breathed, feeling his hard muscles close to my body.

I sent a wild look around me. We were still on the threshold of the bar and escape. I wondered if I could get out of his arms and run away. Would he come after me? I doubt that I would be able to outrun him, much less outfight him. He was like his namesake, a Tank.

“Well then, Megan,” he grinned, “What are you doing here?” he asked. His strong hand rested just below my ass cheek and he grabbed me with both hands.

“I— I-"

Jason was staring at me with an intensity that could burn holes through the back of my head. Of all the scenarios that I had prepared myself for, none included him in the picture.

It was easier pretending that I could let myself be taken by men I didn't even know the names of, but Jason was… Jason was the reason I was here in the first place. Jason and his off-hand comment on how 'inexperienced' I was.

What was I doing here?

“I want to be taken hard,” I said. My breath picked up and I was filled with hope. I knew that Tank had more guts than all the men I had ever dated in the past. Here was a man who would not hesitate to take what was offered to him.

His eyes glazed over with desire and his grin broadened. “A little thing like you?” he said and my hope was smashed entirely.

I made an indignant whimper and struggled to get out of his grasp. His breathing was heavy and each intake seemed to lift me off my feet a little. His palms on my buttocks did not loosen and he was still holding me dangerously close to him. I knew he could do whatever he wanted to do with me. And right now, what he wanted to do was humiliated me with words.

“I'm not little,” I said, shuddering under his power.

“You're tiny compared to me,” he said, his warm hands crushing my buttocks with ease, making me squirm in discomfort. I wanted to tell him to be more gentle, but I didn't want to seem weak.

“Size doesn't matter,” I said.

He snorted, then let go of me completely. His expression was suddenly serious and he asked in a tone that suggested that he didn't have time to waste on bullshit, “Tell me why you're really here.”

I looked around for a way out and found that I didn't want to escape. Not when I was so close to what I came to do. I leaned against the wall and stared at his eyes, realizing for the first time how incredibly deep and blue his pupils were.

Tank was probably in his late twenties and seemed to conceal a million stories behind those sad eyes. “Tell me the truth this time,” he warned.

“I've seen what happens to innocent young women here,” I said.