The Alexandra Series Read Online Free PDF Page B

fantasies.”
    She stared at me amazed. “You’re remarkable.” She honestly meant that.
    The drink seemed to settle me a bit, and I began to search the room, looking closely at the people around me. I stared at one dark skinned man – Mexican or Portuguese, handsome in his roughness, with closely clipped hair and a well trimmed mustache. He wore a sleeveless t-shirt, so his tattooed arms were bare and his thick muscles gleamed in the low light. His tight chest stretched the fabric of the shirt so well that his small nipples showed, and the definition of his muscled chest was unmistakable. The energy from his dark eyes grabbed me right between my legs. I could only stand to look at him for a second before my gaze turned elsewhere.
    “Have you ever met a man like that?” Jane asked.
    “No!”
    “Don’t look so frightened.”
    “He’s so…so.” I couldn’t find the words.
    “So raw? Animal?” she suggested.
    Exactly.
    “Maybe I need another drink,” I said, and we ordered a second.
    “I can’t believe it happened again. This isn’t something that happens to sane people.”
    Jane looked a bit exasperated. “You know, Alex, you can spend your evening worrying about how this happened, or you can relax and enjoy yourself.”
    Of course she was right. I took a deep breath, and then another. At least for a moment the tense feeling in my body eased off. Within a few minutes, I could feel the drink starting to have an effect, and my anxiety receded further.
    I could feel myself responding to the music, the heavy beat, the crazy noise, all of it infecting me just like the liquor. I could do this. Yes, I could do this , I told myself until my mind was too far gone to think at all. All of a sudden, I wanted to dance, wanted to flirt, wanted everything my fantasies gave me. At least for the moment, I was sure that the inhibitions that had held me back before had finally been driven away.
    Rising from my seat to go to the restroom, the first rush of blood made me dizzy; but gathering up my courage, I walked like any brazen slut, my hips slowly gyrating in a sensuous fluid stroll across the room.
    I was noticed – a pair of eyes, maybe two or three, zeroing in on my chest. These were not sweet-smelling city men with well groomed hair and properly matching clothes. There was no glint of gold, no polished suits, no impeccably clean shaven faces. These were denim men in cowboy boots dusted with the earth. The potent smell of leather made me want to climb into their laps and smell their scent. They were rugged, earthy, comfortable with danger, extreme players, participant actors, creators of experience doing what others only dreamed of.
    As the flames inside my body climbed higher, fueled by my almost drunken stupor, I became more deliberate with my body. Once in the restroom, I looked in the mirror, liking what I saw and feeling a fresh wave of desire sweep through my fired up crotch. On my way back to the our table, I suddenly found myself pushed against the wall by a leather clad biker whose large frame loomed a good six inches above my small one. He was the same burly brute who’d stared at me as I strolled to the restroom, although now he looked more formidable than alluring. He peered directly into my eyes.
    “You want some fun, sweetheart?” I could smell the liquor on his breath and my stomach soured. I couldn’t reply. I had no answer and in my silence my fired up body led him on.
    He reached beneath my t-shirt to fondle a tit, and I gasped.
    “Like that, blondie?”
    His hard body moved in closer, so I could smell his scent, a redolent wave of lusty pheromones that went straight to my sex. I responded naturally and I pressed myself against his thrusting groin. Pressing his mouth to mine, his tongue probed deeply, while the memory of my fantasy biker prodded me on. My body flooded with a fiery heat. Then something else in me, not fear or disgust, but something sassy and provocative, pushed him off. He stood