Hi! I’m writing this post without wearing pants. I also haven’t brushed my teeth or hair yet today. Welcome to week 856 of quarantine!
I think I’m actually in like week nine of quarantine, but who the hell knows, tbh.
Anywho, I figured you could probably use something a fun to get you through the rest of this week and I have a solution. It’s a snippet from my novella Wild Ride, a story about a shy quiet girl who embraces her rowdy side.
Read on for an excerpt, and if you enjoy it, please share this post with someone who could use a fun read!
Fresh from being dumped for being too boring, shy and geeky Cynthia Goode decides to shake up her dull life by entering a provocative contest at a popular country western bar. She doesn’t win first prize at the Naughty Nightie mechanical bull riding contest, but she does win the attention of sexy biker Brody Cruz.
Living out what she thinks is a fantasy, she lets Brody take her home for a night she won’t forget.
Cynthia stripped down and butterflies swam in her belly. She’d greatly underestimated how scary walking across a bar and onto a raised circular stage would be dressed only in a corset, lace panties, stockings and heels. Nevertheless, she strutted toward the emcee, the spotlight tracing her movements as she walked. A series of howls and whistles erupted when the man helped her gain her footing and straddle the bull.
They think I look hot. Well, at least if I plummet off the bull right away it’s good to know I’ll look sexy as I fall flat on my face.
The emcee reiterated the rules to her and Cynthia tried to concentrate on what he said.
“Keep your clothes on. Hold on to the pummel with one hand. Keep your other hand raised high. Try to add some personal flare. Aim to ride for eight seconds. Have fun, sugar.”
With that he smacked the side of the machinery and gave a nod to the man controlling the device. The bull started up, the base spinning in a slow circular motion while the saddle rocked front to back. Cynthia gripped the pummel with her right hand and lifted her left hand high in the air. She gazed out into the crowd and flashed a smile. Several cat-calls and shouts rang out.
I can do this.
The device started to speed up, the movements becoming rougher. Cynthia undulated her body as she’d seen the other contestants do. She rocked forward as the bull tilted back and used her knees to grip the wide body. A shrill whistle sounded from the crowd around her and she smiled. She thought back to the look on Paul’s face when he saw her wearing the corset.
“Cynthia? Did you lose a bet?”
What an asshole. Not every man thought the way he did, thank goodness. From the shouts, some of the men in the bar found her attractive. Determined to put on a decent show, she tossed her hair.
Or she tried to anyway.
The small movement made her lose visual focus. Suddenly the machine bucked at the same time that it spun to the left. She tried to recover, but her body slid to the side and she fell onto the mat in what she worried was an ungraceful heap.
“Let’s give contestant five a big round of applause, everybody,” the emcee said.
Two bouncers rushed forward to help her off the mat so the next contestant could take her place. When they got her off the stage and let go of her, Cynthia smiled and tried to take a step forward. She wobbled and the room spun. Drinking, bull riding and stilettos so did not mix well together.
“I think so,” she clutched his massive forearm. She blew out a breath and tried to walk again. “I think I’m okay now.”
The bouncer led her out of the cordoned off area near the mechanical bull and then let go of her arm. She scanned the bar, trying to find Nina, but it was still difficult to focus. She craned her neck, but she didn’t see Nina at the bar where she’d left her before the bull ride. Someone pinched her ass and she let out a yelp at the sting. Where the hell was Nina with her skirt?
Panic crept in like a fog. What the hell was she even doing? She was standing in a bar in her underwear. No, not her underwear. If she’d been wearing her standard skivvies it wouldn’t be nearly as mortifying. Her usual full-coverage briefs, what Nina insisted were granny panties, would’ve at least kept her from showing off her ass cheeks like two prized melons.
“I’m so stupid,” she said softly to herself. Scanning the bar again for her friend, she still didn’t see Nina anywhere. Straining her neck every which way, she took a step forward without watching where she was going and wobbled, crashing into a solid torso.
“Easy there, sweetheart.”A pair of large hands cupped her shoulders. “Why don’t you lean against me? I don’t think you’re ready to walk just yet.”
Cynthia nodded, knowing the kind stranger was right. She only wished she wasn’t wearing her undergarments.
“Thanks for the help—”
She looked up into the man’s face and her mouth went dry. He was tall, even in her stilettos he towered over her. His dark hair was short on the sides and long on top. Her gaze trailed lower, to the way the black tank hugged his broad chest. How could such a simple garment look so outstanding? Maybe it had nothing to do with the construction of the plain cotton and everything to do with the man wearing it.
“It was nothing. I’m Brody. And you are?” He asked with his mouth near her ear.
She had half a mind to give him a fake name, something exotic. But then she remembered that she was a horrible liar. She’d never get an alias out with a straight face.
“My name’s Cynthia,” she shouted above the hoots of the observers and the emcee’s announcements.
His gaze landed at her throat and her fingers flew to her pendant reflexively. The word GEEK was stamped on its surface. She wore it with pride, because damn it, she was a geek at heart and had no shame in it. What would a guy like Brody think of her geeky ways?
“That’s a cool necklace.” His gaze connected with hers again and she let out a little giggle. Had she heard him right? He thought her geek necklace was cool.
“Thank you. I made it myself.”
She felt her face flush under his praise. Her jewelry business wasn’t something she told people about. Even when someone complimented her on one of her pieces. It was always something she shied away from telling people about.
“Well, Cynthia, I feel compelled to see you safely out of this area.” He leaned closer while tightening his hold on her. Surprised, she inhaled sharply. Her nose was filled with a rich, sexy cologne. “This place is a wolf den tonight. I wouldn’t feel right leaving you now. That okay with you?”
She glanced around at all the men nearby and then back to him. Her gut told her she could trust him. She nodded. Brody steered her away from the throng of males, his hand riding low against the curve of her hip. In a weird way, she liked the way he took control and led her away from the crowd.
“Do you think you could help me find my friend?” Her words were drowned out by hoots from the rowdy crowd. She turned and caught sight of the next contestant on the bull. The woman wore an aubergine teddy that set off her dark skin. As she undulated on the machine, the filmy material billowed around her like a purple cloud. The DJ had put on a provocative song and the contestant was milking the song lyrics, incorporating the suggestive words into her ride.
“What? You’re gonna have to get real close to me so I can hear. This crowd’s going ape shit.” He’d stopped walking, tightening his grip on her so she would halt too. Brody pressed his body against her and leaned down, so his mouth was near her ear. He swept her long hair off her shoulder. His breath was a warm caress against the skin on her neck. “See, I bet you can hear me much better now.”
She nodded. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and lower, she felt the beat thrumming in her core. Their gazes connected, held. The strobe light circled and limned his irises. His light brown eyes were flecked with gold. She swallowed hard and with trembling hands she gripped him by the shoulders and gently urged him downward. He lowered his head toward hers.
Oh, God, does he think I want to kiss him?
She did, of course. What red-blooded woman wouldn’t? He was gorgeous and seemed captivated by her. She turned her head and angled her mouth toward his ear. Instead of speaking, she froze, her fingers tightening around his muscled shoulders. For the first time since arriving at the bar, the intensity of the erotic atmosphere threatened to overwhelm her.
The heavy bass strumming from the speakers. The humid air and male bodies pressed in close. The catcalls and shouts from the men cheering on the contestants. And, damn it, the lyrics of the 90s R&B song where the sexy male voice promised that his saddle was waiting and commanded a woman to jump on it. Maybe that was good advice. Maybe she needed to jump on it. Well, not on Brody’s…saddle, but she could at least capitalize on the situation. What possible harm could come from a little flirting with this handsome stranger?