by Alexis Angel
I throw the van into reverse and back out of the parking spot.
I can do this. I can drive an Aerostar Ford minivan for a week.
It won’t actually kill me.
Right?
Right?
I take the Midtown tunnel to the Long Island Expressway, which is when I hit a traffic snarl. Fuck. I don’t know what god I pissed off to earn a day like this, but I decide to take up virgin goat sacrificing, or at least incense burning sometime this next weekend. Something for a little luck. I’m sure as hell not producing any luck on my own.
I blast my horn at the guy idling in front of me. Traffic has started moving again, and he’s just sitting there, staring off into space.
“C’mon, motherfucker, let’s move!” I yell through my windshield.
Always an effective way of communicating with others, I know.
He flips me the bird but his brake lights flicker off and he starts to move forward. I begin to inch forward—
My driver’s side door flies open and some guy in a leather jacket is yelling at me and I slam on my brakes in total shock.
“Throw it in park and move over!” he demands.
His jet black hair is unruly, like he’s just come out of a wind tunnel, and his leather jacket and chaps scream biker. Normally, if I saw a guy like this on the sidewalk, I’d get the fuck out of his way. He’s big and he’s scary and he’s tatted up and he’s yelling at me and I know I should be scared, but instead...
All I can do is laugh.
To keep reading, just click here for Becca Vs. Biker by Mona Cox!
Also by Alexis Angel
Wicked Lil’ Brat
Man Chaser
Red & Blue
Scandalous
Client 5
Jailbait
Python
12 Inches
D.I.L.F.
Co-Writing As Abby Angel
Men of the House
Woman of the House
Co-Writing As Dark Angel
The Virgin Market
