About Grains of Paradise
by BA Collins
46 pages
/ 18700 words
ISBN: 978-1-60370-765-7, 1-60370-765-4
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc, epub, Sony-optimized pdf
Vince is headed to the beach on his Harley when a hot couple catches his eye, and not just because of the handcuffs and collar the female of the pair wears. Figuring he can indulge in a little fantasy, Vince enjoys watching the couple, especially when things start to heat up under the summer sun.
When Maggie and Jake invite Vince to join them, they all get more than they bargained for. Vince wants to play, but he knows it would be all too easy to care for his new friends. Maggie and Jake aren't sure how far they can go, and Vince will test all of their boundaries. Will they be able to find enough common ground to work things out?
Sample
Hot July sun beat down on the road like a hammer on a nail. Vince looked ahead over the cars and other motorcycles on the road and sighed. I should have gone somewhere else. I’m never gonna get to the fucking beach today at this rate. He could feel sweat pouring down his back under his leather jacket. Traffic on Route 1A ground to a halt yet again. The sign for Hampton Beach had just come into sight.
He could pull a stupid stunt and run between the cars on his Harley. He could see someone doing that up ahead on the bridge, and the flashing blue lights start up. Nah. No more tickets for him, not today. Vince pulled his jacket off and stuffed it under a cargo strap on the sissy bar, wishing to hell he had a girl, hell, even a guy sitting there to commiserate with about the stupid, fucking traffic.
Traffic began moving halfway through that, naturally, and he had to put the Harley in gear sharply to keep up. The breeze of going even twenty miles an hour over the bridge felt great on his sweat soaked upper body. The chicks staring out windows at him from their own cars weren’t half bad either.
Mostly too young or too damn married, teenyboppers staring at his muscles and tats, or married broads wishing they weren’t in an SUV with their old man, but maybe on the back of his bike.
Vince shook his head back to reality. He should get a date, not a fucking fantasy. He pulled into the right lane. He meant to go to Hampton and cruise, but caught a glimpse of completely stalled cars all ahead of him. Fuck. It was three o’clock already. Damn job that wanted him at work on Saturday morning. Damn traffic. He cut out onto a side street and headed for the state park instead. Not much action there, but he’d get to the beach before it was dark. He could cruise later.
He pulled back out on the road toward the state park and nearly dumped his bike as he came up behind another Harley, a black dresser with hard bags, and a blonde chick on the back. For a second he thought she was naked, then saw the strings of a bikini that barely covered the law, let alone any of that gorgeous honey colored skin. She had long blonde hair in a ponytail, and thigh-high black leather boots. He got himself under control. Those boots went pretty nicely with the leather collar she wore on her neck.
Holy shit, that wasn’t what you expected to see at the fucking beach. Vince looked to see who she was with. That didn’t help a bit. The guy was blond too, with a long pale braid and hard muscles, black chaps, and a black leather vest with a few patches on it and a big Harley logo on the back.
Something shiny dangled from his left hand…a fucking leash. Holy shit, there he was riding along in public with a collared, leashed chickie. She didn’t look tense, at least from the back. She looked pretty relaxed, had her hands behind her holding the sissy bar, not him. Vince leaned forward, squinting against the gleam of chrome reflecting the afternoon sun. Not just holding. Cuffed. Shiny silver bracelets circled each wrist, linked together around the back of the sissy bar with more chain like the leash.