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From Good Girl To MC PropertyMindy is about to learn just how fast a good girl can turn bad in the hands of not just one but two rough riders! She finds herself in an MC motorcycle club, playing strip poker with dangerous men, and when you play with fire, you get burned... Luckily for Mindy, she needs a little heat in her life.
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From Good Girl To MC Property: Motorcycle Club Erotica
From Good Girl To MC Property
Mindy runs an idle finger over the rim of her martini glass, her heart thumping in her chest. How could a woman not get turned on by a motorcycle? She thinks. She bites her lip, looking out the front window of the bar, to the machines parked out on the curb. They’re long and sleek, with engines promising power between your legs. The streetlights overhead give the chrome and steel a liquid sheen. Mindy takes a sip from her glass, imagining how it would feel, 65 miles per hour on the freeway, the wind blowing through her hair, the bike gently buzzing against her spread thighs.
“Mindy? You okay?” Charlene tilts her head into Mindy’s field of vision. “You want to talk about Marc? You were dating for a year. This is a major life moment, whether you want to admit it or not.”
Keeping her eyes to the bikes outside, Mindy sits back in her chair. The DJ, couched in a far corner of the club, switches songs, the tempo suddenly slower and strong.
“He cheated on me, Charlene,” Mindy says. “He’s a creep. I haven’t been happy with him for 6 months.” Mindy tosses her head back, finishing the last slithering drips of her drink. “Honestly, Charlene, I haven’t felt this happy in a long time. I’m only 23, I’m still so young, I feel like now that Marc is gone, that the whole world is open, like it’s a buffet just waiting for me to try everything, you know?”
Charlene nods. “Okay then, girlfriend,” she breaks into her trademark toothy grin, “lets get fucked up!” She raises a finger in the air to hail one of the servers buzzing about the club. “Two appletinis for me and my newly-freed girlfriend!”
Two drinks appear on the hightop between them as if by magic, light green and rimmed with large-grain sugar. The club lights bend and pitch inside the alcohol, making the appletini glimmer like an exotic gemstone in nestled in Mindy’s palm. Mindy raises her drink, watching the motorcycles outside swim and warble through the glass.
“To freedom and new experiences!”
Charlene clinks her glass to Mindy’s. “To freedom and new experiences!”
Her heart still racing, the air hot and buzzing with each breath, Mindy throws the drink back in a single gulp.
“Whoa whoa, there, Min,” Charlene says. “You’re five-foot-five and 110 pounds, you’d better be careful slamming drinks like that. You know they make them strong here. We don’t want another Pukesgiving on our hands.”
Mindy, catching gazes with the server that now seems to be hovering around their table, raises her finger for another. “First,” she says, turning back to Charlene, “Last Thanksgiving was bad because no one told me that drink was made with Jaeger. You know what happens when I drink Jaeger. Second,” she pauses as the server quickly darts in to nestle another martini glass in her palm, “I’ve lived in Marc’s shadow for too long. It’s time for me to open up my arms and accept what life has to offer, you know?”
Charlene nods, taking a slow sip of her appletini. “You know I love you, girl, but—”
Mindy stands, the seat accidentally toppling from beneath her. Not wanting to hear the “but” to Charlene’s sentence, she grabs her friend by the hand and drags her away from the table.
“No time to talk, bitch! It’s time to dance!”
A glass breaks behind them but Mindy doesn’t bother looking back. What’s a broken glass on some club’s floor when there’s a whole world, a big apple waiting for her to take a bite? As if by providence, the song shifts up tempo, the rhythm compelling Mindy to bounce on the balls of her toes.
“Ok, wow,” Charlene shouts into Mindy’s ear, trying to speak over the deafening music. “You’re already drunk, huh?”
“Fuck yeah I am,” Mindy says. “I had a few before you showed up. Let’s get some shots up in here!”
Charlene again leans in to say something to Mindy, but the words are lost in transit. Dancing to the song’s pulse, Mindy feels her body expand, melt into the very essence of the music itself. The words from Charlene’s lips fizzle and die in the newly-expanded air. Sweat trickling down her face, Mindy swims through a warm tide of color and sound, her body abuzz with every flicker. The last thing she thinks, ready to explore a whole new world, is who came on those motorcycles. Maybe they’d like a drink or two...
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