Falling for the Dragon (Black Mountain Bikers 2) - Page 4

Some of the bikers had come back briefly on Saturday night, but didn’t stay long enough for her to inquire about Drake. Maybe that was for the best. She didn’t want to seem too interested—although how she could act any more interested than she already had, she didn’t know.

Drake had invaded her mind, awakened something deep and primal in her that she hadn’t even been aware of before meeting him. She couldn’t shake him from her thoughts. She could still feel him as he pressed against her at the door, still feel his heat, smell his pure man scent, and see the expression of pure want in his eyes as his gaze roamed over every inch of her.

Even being exhausted for the last five nights, she’d barely been able to rest when she fell into bed at night. Her thoughts about Drake would follow her down into her sleep and turn to dreams about him. The dreams were so real that she awakened herself moaning and writhing in the bed. She would wake drenched in sweat in a tangle of sheet and comforter. More than once she had awakened still needing him to really be there to satisfy the throbbing between her legs. Those were the times it was impossible to fall asleep again.

Monday afternoon was quiet as Jayda saw her friends out her front door. They were all finally going to their own houses for a while. She loved them dearly, but a girl had to have a little privacy and quiet time.

Jayda put on a movie, turned down the volume and flopped on the sofa in only her nightshirt. It was nice to have her home back. They had all been so tired that no one ribbed her about her Toyland rooms this time, either.

Their little foray into the dungeon at Harley Heaven possibly had opened their eyes a little bit. Jayda’s fetishes might be tame in comparison to what those guys were into. On the other hand, maybe their own latent perverse appetites had been awakened by the bikers.

God knew if anyone could awaken lust in a woman, it would be those guys. If a woman found none of them appealing, she was obviously dead or in a coma on her way to being dead.

Jayda had turned on the least sexy movie she could find—Ghostbusters—from the 1980s, hoping that Drake would leave her thoughts for a while and let her get some rest. For a while, it seemed to work as she watched the antics on-screen.

Halfway th

rough the movie, Jayda’s eyes drifted shut and she was marginally aware that she was beginning to doze. Welcoming the respite of peaceful slumber, she sighed and snuggled her head deeper into the pillow.

When her phone rang two hours later, Jayda startled awake to find that she’d once again been dreaming of the super sexy and intrusive Drake.

“Dammit!” She stumbled from the sofa to the kitchen to answer her trilling phone. Punching the button, she said, “Hello!” There was no welcome in her voice; she’d yelled the word unapologetically.

“Someone got grouchy quick. Sheesh, Jay, I was just calling to invite you to Harley Heaven with us this evening.” Pepper sounded offended, but Jayda knew she really wasn’t.

“Pepper, you guys go without me. I’ve not been sleeping much and I’m exhausted to the point of being sick. I’m going to try to nap some more, so don’t call me unless it’s an emergency.” She disconnected and carried the phone back to the couch with her.

The offer had been tempting. A chance to go see the dragon in his natural habitat. Maybe get to know him better. Maybe get another accidental rub-up. Yes, Jayda would have loved nothing more than to go to his place and make uncouth advances toward Drake, but her stubborn streak persisted and she refused to give in.

She couldn’t let him know how hot her desire was for him; that it was burning her up from the inside out was none of his business and she wouldn’t let him witness it to stroke his ego. His ego definitely was not what she wanted to stroke, nor did it need stroking, in her opinion.

Jayda Oliver had always and forever been the dominant partner in any relationship. It never turned her on to be submissive in any way, shape, or form. His hands tied to the bed, his eyes blindfolded, him lying prone under her whip and under her hips, him at her command and pleasing her.

Drake would never be dominated. Not by anyone as far as she could tell. Being a good judge of a person, even upon first meetings, Jayda judged that Drake was an alpha male, he did as he pleased and to whom he pleased, he didn’t ask permission—or forgiveness, she was sure, and he would never ever be submissive in bed. And he was the type of guy that liked possessing women, having them stroke his ego, and anything else he wanted stroked. He would wait for her to break first and come to him. That was a show of power. Jayda decided that with her, it was misplaced.

So, why did he elicit such strong emotional and physical responses from Jayda? She couldn’t work it out in her own head, but it was driving her mad. As she dropped unceremoniously onto the couch again, she decided it was time for some release. She would find a suitable guy to unleash her pent-up desire on. And she believed she knew exactly the right guy.

His name was Anthony, Tony to his acquaintances and some friends, but Tank to his best friends and, of course to his lovers. He and Jayda had known each other for several years. After she moved to her new place, they hadn’t been in contact much. Biting her lower lip, Jayda flipped the phone in her hand. It was high time that Tank come see her new house.

Tank was a big man in every sense of the word, hence the nickname Tank, but he loved to be dominated. Especially if the dom knew what she was doing and could read the signals he gave. In Jayda’s expert hands, he was putty. She would mold him into the thing she needed and have a few hours playtime to rid her mind of Drake.

Jayda called Tank and he agreed to visit her at her new house and admonished her for taking so long to invite him.

Jayda gave him excuses and set the meet time for an hour later. She headed to shower before Tank showed up at her doorstep. She would surely need another when he left again, but that was fine by Jayda.

By the time she stepped out of the shower, Jayda had worked herself up thinking about Drake again. Drying with the towel, she thought of Tank in comparison to Drake and found that she wasn’t all that excited to be meeting with Tank.

The clock said it was far too late to back out of the meeting. The meeting which she had initiated. She made quick work of her hair with the hairdryer and left all products out of it—no need to fancy up her hair. It would be ruined and lank with sweat by the time she and Tank were finished playing anyway.

She threw on a long shirt that reached to mid-thigh, didn’t bother with panties, and grabbed her skeleton key to unlock Toyland number one. Jayda stood in the center of the room with all its BDSM paraphernalia. Something in her stirred but didn’t quite awaken. She tried to force it to the foreground by going through her dom outfits. Usually, choosing her outfit set the mood for what kind of playtime would happen; this time, she couldn’t decide on an outfit.

After several minutes and a check of the time, Jayda reverted to default settings and grabbed the black leather corset, her large black strap-on cock that pleasured both the user and the receiver, and her favorite flogger with the replica white cock sporting veins and ridges for a handle.

That faint stirring happened again, but again, the dom beast that seemed to always be hungry didn’t fully awaken. Frustrated, Jayda tossed the whip aside and put the black double pleasure strap-on beside it.

Drake had inadvertently ruined her chances to get him off her mind, even. Stabbing her arms through the sleeves of her red kimono dressing gown, she stomped to the living room. Tank would arrive any minute now. The best she could hope for was that his appearance would somehow awaken that inner dom and let her release her pent up tensions so she could have a restful sleep.

Instead of fueling her inner dominatrix, the sound of Tank’s car pulling into the drive caused Jayda to feel a heavy exasperation. This was the first time she had ever thought of playtime as something she was going to have to force herself to endure. She went to the door to let him in.

Tags: Scott Wylder Black Mountain Bikers Romance
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