Zauran (31 page)

This is like pool fighting, on fucking motorbikes!

They're MAD!

Mr Mystery takes her jacket, stuffing it god knows where in front of him, while Karl roars past him, giving him the middle finger salute.

Charlie bellows a roar with Karl as we surge ahead with him,
And I'm trying to unhook my now jello legs from gripping onto Charlie's, to get up on the saddle.

Oh my god!

Getting one leg bent under me, his hand appears over his shoulder for me to hold onto. Gripping it heart and soul, I get my other leg up, precariously straightening my legs, locking my knees, while the wind sandblasts me, stinging my eyes.

“
Woohoooooooo!” screams in stereo from both sides of me, from the wildcats.

Charlie guides me. I can tell he's done this thousands of times, letting go of the bars completely, getting my legs around his shoulders, hooking my knees under his arms, before leaning forward again and screaming the bike ahead of the pack to show me off.

I'm afraid to look behind me, the asphalt is blurring past at a horrific speed, and I'm worried I'll get dizzy if I look.

Sven pitches forward, roaring, flipping the bird, with Iris sitting against his back as if she's out for sundowner cosmopolitans on a deck in Bali.

Unzipping my jacket, it takes all my strength to wrestle it from the wind bitching at me like I stole her boyfriend.

Leaning down, his soft hair in my cleavage, I give it to him to hook under his thigh, finally looking at my bad influences.

Oh-my-god!

Sven roars with laughter when he sees my face, blaring the horn on his bike to announce it to everyone to look, and in perfect synchronization the men bellow into the wind, louder than the thunder chasing us.

~Teaser from Book 3~

Shar

(an erotic romance by Poppet)

A man appears at the other end of the entrance hall, and I'm stunned silent.

Holy smoke! There's two of them!

“
What are
you
doing here?” speaks from behind me.

Turning, I notice Shar is scowling worse than me, his blue eyes turned to flat ice picks.

Snapping my gaze back to the new guy, I survey him. They're identical, except for the length of their hair and color of their eyes.

“
I popped in to tell you some news. But you have company, so I'll just go,” the new guy says.

Hmmm, he has the same deep voiced sexy baritone that literally caresses up and down your legs like a velvet hand.

Shar steps into view, “Tammy, this is my brother, Erra. Erra, Tammy.”

He looks pissed.

Erra smiles, walking toward me, extending his hand.

“
How wonderful to meet you,” he says, clasping my hand and kissing it no less!

His onyx eyes swivel their attention to Shar, and I get the feeling I've missed something. Like he's been expecting me.

“
Twins?” I ask, just to make sure.

Some brothers look identical even though they're not twins.

“
Yup,” grumbles Shar, opening the front door again and literally insisting with his facial expression that his brother leaves.

Erra continues to hold my hand, it's warm and inviting.

Staring into my eyes again, he whispers 'interesting', before releasing my hand in a reluctant manner and grinning at Shar.

Slapping his shoulder, Erra moves to the door, “I'll call in the morning. And you'd better answer, not that degenerate bitch you have working for you.”

Hello?

Watching him walk away, I'm getting a pretty good idea of the build Shar has hidden under his shirt. Erra's wearing a tight black shirt that clings to wide shoulders and muscled arms. You don't see men built like that everyday.

Glancing at Shar, I wonder why he left his shirt untucked, hiding so much under long loose sleeves, when to dress like his brother would have put him center stage at Sally's gathering.

Wow, Erra's legs are really long - and elegant.

Smiling, I turn back to face the entrance hall when Shar closes the door.

Surreptitiously watching him from the corner of my eye, I spy the same muscles in his thighs pressing against jeans.

It must be so cool being tall like that.

“
Right, let's get that coffee,” he says, pulling the band out of his hair and stalking away in long strides.

His hair is marginally shorter than Erra's, falling almost to the bottom of his neck in a long bob, but just as glossy and silky.

He pauses, turning back to look at me, and I snatch my gaze off his legs and smile automatically to cover up my perving.

Grumpy features watch me, “You coming? Or do you want to hang in the living room?”

Take your bad attitude and shove it up your ass.