Roadside Assistance

Paula is a hotwife, and now she's upset with her husband who is off on another business trip. When she heads out on rural roads and her car breaks down, things really seem to suck. Fortunately the good Samaritans who stop to lend her a hand are hot bikers. One look at her and they are more than happy to solve all those problems. In fact they insist on making sure they take turns doing all they can to chase away her sexual frustrations. She's never been taken rough by several guys at once before, but since they are fixing her car for her, it seems like the right thing to do.

~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~

Paula drove her BMW down the freeway off ramp, heading out along the two-lane county road for her sister's house. Too much a city girl to enjoy the drive through the countryside, her thoughts kept going back to the fight she'd had with Eric. And all over a trip—his company was sending him to Paris for a week and he wouldn't let her go.

"We can't afford it," he'd said.

She suppressed the urge to throw something at him. "We are talking Paris here. The company will pay for the hotel. All it will cost is my ticket."

"Which is damned expensive. And then there is your food. And you aren't going to sit around the goddamn room all day. You'll be spending money on taxis and going shopping, buying things you want and things for your damn sister too."

"Why does everything come down to money with you?"

"Everything doesn't. But we agreed to save up to make a down payment on an apartment."

And so it went, escalating to the point where she didn't want to see him for a while. The point where she told him she'd go visit her damn sister that he hated so much and cool down. The point where she wouldn't tell him when she'd get back. She wondered how long he'd really known about the trip. He was going next week and it wasn't like his company to do things on a moment's notice. He hadn't given her a chance to change his mind.

Eric's attitude about money always pissed her off, and him being tight-fisted about the trip (to Paris, for heaven's sake) made her wonder if he cared about her. Really cared. He probably planned to spend his free time checking out French whores.

She drove through the small towns at the edge of the city. Sometimes she wondered about the people who lived out there in this goddamn wilderness. Not today though. All she thought about was the fight. Low on gas, she pulled into a station. She hadn't called Marge, his sister, and should let her know she was coming.

A tall man with scraggly hair was sitting on a motorcycle in the shade. As she got out, he walked over.

"Hello darling," he said. She didn't like his smile. Actually it was a gorgeous smile, but it made her nervous.

"I just want to fill up my car," she said.

"Go ahead." He shrugged.

As she got out her credit card and started the gas flowing, the man looked over the car. "Nice wheels."

Out of the corner of her eye, she appraised him. Looking past his scruffiness, He had that rough sexy look movie stars tried for. A scar on his chin made him seem even more rugged. But she wasn't in the mood to flirt, and he had a girl with him. A tall and too-skinny girl with long black hair who wore tight short shorts and a tee shirt cut off to show her flat stomach and her pierced navel.