Rough Rides with a Dom (Rough Rides Romance Saga #3)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

The worst part about being in a small town is that nobody around this place can see past what’s typical.

Nobody ever thinks about how there might be something in this world more exciting than…

than… Aw, hell, I don’t know. The point I guess I’m trying to make is that life is so damned boring and I’m just sick of…

Damn it all, I’m only back for a day.

One day!

What in the world am I doing bitching and complaining about things after only one day?

The worst part about the whole situation is that I’m back here after spending four years in college, thinking about how this place was some sort of idyllic, wonderful home.

And now I’m here thinking about how everyone is fucking boring and stupid.

Okay, in fairness, it’s my fault. I don’t even like Thomas, and it’s not his fault. He’s a typical guy here. He graduated from high school and started working at the factory here in town. We went to the prom together. That’s it.

Okay, well, we did more dances than just the prom, so that’s not entirely accurate.

The point is that I had dreams of doing something with my life that amounted to more than heavy machinery manufacturing.

I guess for me (since I have breasts and a vagina), I mean more than just being married to someone who was in the heavy machinery business.

Damn it all, I knew this was going to happen.

Now I look like some horrible cunt who thinks you’re not an important person if you’re a blue collar worker. Damn it! That’s not how I feel at all, but that’s what I’m talking about, here. You always end up sounding like some kind of elitist bitch when you complain about this town.

Okay. Let me start over.

I go to college hoping to have something in my life that takes me out of the sort of trap it feels like life has laid for me. I mean, no individuals treat me like I’m trapped, and I don’t mean that anyone treats me like I’m not allowed to live whatever life I want to live, but… Hell, you just…

How do I explain it?

You either grow up to marry someone who works at the factory or you end up being a club girl, one of the Death Adders’ sweet butts.

Sweet butt—that’s a word for a biker slut.

I mean, I’m not trying to be a jerk here.

That’s what they are, though. They’re girls who…

Hell, there’s no way to say it nicely. The Adder girls are there to fuck any member of the Death Adder gang who happens to be horny.

I mean, it’s a real thing. There is a group of girls who live at the Death Adder clubhouse. The clubhouse used to be a travel hotel, and it has a house next to it. They built a garage next to it, too. I know all about it because for something like two months, I dated a Death Adder.

Max.

I have to tell you, I would do anything to get Max to show up right now and rescue me from this horrible date!

Max is… Um… You know the whole master and servant thing? Where the guy is the master and the girl is his servant? That’s what Max is all about.

Holy crap, that isn’t true. Either the girl or the guy can be the master. Sorry about that. But Max is a master, and when I was with him, I was a servant. It was the best two months of my life.

This is my fourth night back in town. It’s also my first date in something like a year and a half. I can say with absolute honesty that I want to get to the point where Thomas drives me home, gets a quick peck goodnight, and then drives away as I lean against the door and rethink moving back home.

We’re playing miniature golf, of all things.

I don’t think I’ve done this since I was in high school, and this is what I mean about feeling stuck in this town.

I think my last date here was playing miniature golf!

How did I think it would be any different just because I now have a college degree and my place to live?

We’re playing the second hole when I hear a familiar voice behind us, waiting for us to finish, I guess, so they can play through. I turn around without trying to look like I’m checking him out, but sure enough, it’s Max.

Fuck.

He’s got one of the club girls with him, some redhead with very long legs. Huh.

“Hey, Thomas, you should ask that couple waiting on us if they want to play against us. I think that could be fun.” I turn on the charm and smile, and put my hand on his chest like he’s my idea of a big, strong hero.

It makes me a bit mad at myself, but I’m bored and I want an excuse to find out what the fuck Max is doing here.

Did he spy on me or something? Of course, I’ve been gone forever, so Max's appearing at the same place I’m having my date is likely an accident rather than directed. Still, it feels very coincidental.

Anyway, Thomas smiles at me and gives me a little hug. “Sure thing, sounds like fun.”

He walks over and talks to Max. The Adder Girl looks my way and grins like she knows exactly what’s going on. I want to punch her in the fucking stomach.

Thomas comes back. “It’s on. We’re going to count this hole twice for the scorecard since we already played the first hole.”

“Awesome. This is going to be fun, Thomas.”

And on some perverse planet of dating torture, it’s loads of laughs. Max just grins and plays like the God he is. He looks incredibly out of place in this little cheap ass mini golf land, not like I’m looking. I’m just trying to wipe the pavement with him.

I get more and more bent out of shape as the night progresses, and we start losing by a mile.

Thomas is laughing it up with Max, but I’m taking every stroke seriously.

I watch every move Max makes, and Thomas almost becomes a buzzing sound in the background.

Hell, I’m not even paying attention to the redheaded slut anymore.

It’s just me and Max.

I only snap out of it when we get to the final hole, and Thomas has to almost yell at me that the game is over. I see that Max is walking off with his little chick, smiling big over his shoulder at me.

That fucker.

“You okay, Casey?”

I turn and feel a sudden wave of guilt. This was supposed to be my date with Thomas, and I just blew him off the moment Max showed up. God, I’m being a very unfair and unkind bitch.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m just, uh, very competitive, you know?”

“Oh, I get that completely. I’m crazy competitive with racquetball when I play the guys on Tuesday.”

I look at him and hate how I just instantly dislike his blandness. What the fuck is wrong with me? I like Thomas. Or liked. God, I’m just so confused right now.

And I’m damn angry at that asshole of a biker.

I smile and take Thomas’ arm as we walk over to the counter so I can return the mini golf clubs. “Thanks for being such a good sport.”

Thomas nods. “Of course. It’s been a great date.”

Has it, though? I feel awful, so awful that I briefly consider sleeping with Thomas just to assuage the guilt I’m feeling over being so focused on Max.

But when we get back to my place, I just can’t do it. He walks me to my door, and I can feel the hope coming off him in waves. I let him move closer, but I make the preemptive move and give him a little peck on the cheek and a hug.

“Thanks again, Thomas. It was a lot of fun hanging out tonight.”

Wow, I can’t even think of it as a date anymore.

I feel disappointed, even though he gives me a big smile. “Yeah, I had a great time, too.” He pauses to see if I’m going to hint at better things to come, and then he nods in defeat. “Well, I'd better get going. Working tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’ll see you again sometime.” Jesus, I sound so awful.

I head in as Thomas walks to his car.

A rage takes over me. “Fucking Max!”

Why does that fucking asshole consume me still? What the fuck do I care what he wants to do or who he wants to do?

Why did it bother me so much to see him tonight?

“Fucking Max!”

I head to bed with that as a mantra in my mind to lull me to an angry sleep. I just wish I didn’t feel a pretty desperate desire to submit to him.

Submit… Damn, that would be wonderful.

Damn it’s stupid to want that!