Deborah Mello - Tame a Wild Stallion

Like the others, Mark turned in the direction of the doorway and the beguiling tone that drew their attention.

The female before him cut a quick eye in his direction, catching his gaze and holding it ever so briefly before moving to stand behind the office counter. Mark’s gaze followed her, taking in the silhouette that defined her femininity beneath the clothing that did nothing to flatter her very female figure. His eyes widened curiously, his interest piqued as she scolded the doctor, one of his brother John’s many fraternity brothers.

“Don’t bring that car back in here, Doc. And I mean it. I swear if I see you or that vehicle again in the next three months, I’m pulling the engine and you won’t be riding in it ever again. You got me?”

Marcus chuckled. “Yes, ma’am!”

Michelle handed the man an invoice, holding her hand out patiently as he wrote her a check for her services. When their transaction was complete, the good doctor waved goodbyes, and she turned her attention to the man who’d been eyeing her curiously, looking him up and down.

The brother was one good-looking specimen of manhood, Michelle thought, admiring Mark’s rugged good looks. The leather attire added to his bad-boy appeal, the ensemble complementing his mahogany complexion, full lips and shoulder-length dreadlocks. But good-looking men in Dallas were a dime a dozen, she mused, barely allowing herself to pause to admire the line of his chiseled features and haunting eyes. “How can I help you?” Michelle asked, her gaze meeting his evenly.

“You’re Mitch?” he asked, surprise in his tone.

Michelle dropped a hand to her hip, shifting her weight. “You have a problem with that?”

Mark shrugged, a sly smile pulling at the line of his full lips. “No. Not at all. I just wasn’t expecting a girl.”

“You didn’t get a girl,” Michelle snapped, annoyance creeping into her voice. “I’m a grown woman and don’t you forget it. So what can we do for you, Mr…?”

“Stallion. Mark Stallion,” the man answered, only a touch flustered by her contentious tone. He composed himself quickly, a wide smile filling his dark face. “My brother Luke said you’d be able to look over my bike for me. I’m headed to South Carolina and I just wanted to make sure she’s road ready.”

Michelle lifted her eyebrows, her head bobbing up and down ever so slightly. Her disposition softened ever so slightly. “So, you’re one of Luke’s brothers. How is he? I haven’t heard from him in a while.”

Mark shrugged. “He’s well. How do you two know each other?” he asked curiously.

Michelle smiled, her eyes shimmering beneath the room’s dim lights. She didn’t bother to answer his question as she made her way from behind the counter to his side. As she paused in front of him, the top of her head barely reaching his chin, the light fragrance of a floral perfume mixed with a hint of motor oil teased his nostrils. Mark took a deep inhale, filling his lungs with the scent of her. He suddenly felt drunk with longing, the woman’s imposing stare, commanding demeanor and gorgeous smile taking control of his senses. The feeling was unsettling, leaving Mark speechless.

“Roll your bike into the garage. The third bay. I’ll get you on the road in no time,” Michelle said, gesturing toward the work area.

Nodding, Mark moved toward the exit. Tossing a quick look back over his shoulder, he couldn’t miss Michelle staring after him. He also didn’t miss the fact that she’d not bothered to respond to his question and now his curiosity was seriously heightened. He couldn’t wait to talk to his little brother to find out what was up with him and that woman.

Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, was hot and Mark wasn’t thinking about the ninety-plus-degree weather as he rolled up in front of Bimini’s Oyster Bar and Seafood Café. The restaurant was one of his favorite haunts when he was in the area and he’d been thinking about their conch fritters since he’d crossed the border out of Georgia.

As he swung his large body off his vehicle, loosening the strap to his helmet, a group of scantily clad women caught his eye, the trio eyeing him hungrily. The bike event had no shortage of half-dressed females in want of attention, and Mark had always been amazed by how brazen some of them could be. Just that morning a buxom sister with platinum-blond braids in a string bikini that was more string than swimsuit had climbed right onto the back of his motorcycle, grabbing his crotch firmly as she’d whispered a proposition into his ear.

Mark had to admit the offer had been tempting, but he’d politely turned her down, removing her grip from the front of his denim jeans as he’d sent her in the other direction. He shook his head at the memory then turned his attention back to his bike, not even bothering to acknowledge the three young women who were shaking their goodies for his attention. It suddenly dawned on him that he hadn’t sought out any female companionship since his arrival. He pulled the back of his hand to his forehead to check if he might be running a temperature, certain that he had to have a fever.

His thoughts were interrupted by a slap on his shoulder, his attention turning to his good friend and riding buddy, Vanessa Long, who greeted him cheerily. Vanessa was waving her head from side to side, her caramel-colored eyes bulging at the wealth of eye candy that she found so tempting.

“Did you see the bootie on that babe? Her mama sure ’nuf blessed her!” the woman exclaimed excitedly.

Mark laughed. “Down girl! You’re about to hurt yourself.”

Vanessa laughed with him. “Yes, I am and I’m going to enjoy every second of the pain.”

“Where’d you disappear to?” Mark asked as he secured his belongings in the side satchel on his bike. “One minute you were riding beside me and the next minute you were gone,” he said as he and his friend made their way toward the restaurant’s front entrance.

Vanessa grinned sheepishly. “Had to partake in some V-Twin foreplay,” the woman said with a laugh.

Mark winced, shaking his head from side to side. He held up his hands in surrender. “Stop. Don’t tell me any more,” he said jokingly.

Vanessa laughed. “I met me a new friend from Florida. Baby girl likes a Harley so we rode up a steep hill, I shifted into low and the rest is history.”

Mark laughed with her. He and Vanessa had grown up together, best friends since they’d met in elementary school. Vanessa had been all tomboy and her daredevil antics had rivaled his own, making their friendship a nice match. For a brief stint in high school they’d been boyfriend and girlfriend, the passion in their relationship never amounting to much of anything. Then in college Vanessa had admitted her predilection for women, turning their friendly rivalry up two notches. Mark had only been slightly disturbed when the woman had begun to be open about her interests. Interests that ran the same line as his. But over time they’d found their balance, Vanessa acting as if she were just one of the boys and he and his brothers treating her as such.

Inside the restaurant a young waiter with a short, blond bowl cut guided the duo to a booth as he handed them menus, promising to be right back with the two Heineken beers they ordered.

“This truly has been one good time,” Vanessa exclaimed as they settled down for a relaxing lunch.

“Always is,” Mark said, nodding his agreement. “There’s nothing like it.”

Both sat in deep reflection, thinking about the tons of parties and events that typically occurred throughout the five-day weekend. Revelers packed the hotels, the beaches were swamped, the streets packed with bikes and cars, and no matter where you were you could smell the barbecue grilling. In all of his travels, Mark hadn’t found another party quite like it.