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October 12th - November 1st

The Biker and the Bride
by Lauren Agony and Jan Springer
from the "Afternoon Delights Anthology, Vol. 1"

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Ten sizzling short stories by various authors to leave you breathless on sultry summer nights. From ancient worlds and vampire realms to isolated islands and the wild beauty of the Amazon, revisit old flames, kindle new ones, explore contemporary relationships and indulge your fantasies.

One erotic-romance teaser is Lauren Agony & Jan Springer's "The Biker & The Bride". Kidnapped on her wedding day, Lacey is whisked away to a secluded cabin and seduced by a past lover.

Rating: May not be suitable for sensitive readers. Contains graphic sex & coarse language.

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Chapter One

"Lacey Ann Smith, do you take Donald Pleasant as your lawfully wedded husband in sickness, in health, for richer, for poorer, until death do you part?"

The preacher's question made Lacey strangle the thorny bouquet of blood red roses she held in her hands.

What would Donald do if she said no? Would his humiliation be enough to satisfy her need for revenge? Would the look of shock on his face give her relief from the torment she'd suffered over the past two years?

No way.

She wanted more. She wanted to cause him some serious damage and the only way to do it was to marry him.

Beneath her satin veil, Lacey forced herself to maintain eye contact with her groom-to-be.  "I do," she said.

Donald smiled triumphantly. The preacher continued, "If there is anyone here who can show just cause why this marriage should not take place, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Lacey held her breath as his words echoed eerily through the nearly empty church.

From the corner of her eye she watched Donald's stuffy parents for any sign of reaction. Both sat prim and proper, their noses stuck in the air like the snobs they were.

There would be no protests from those two. They thought she was sweet and innocent. How wrong they were.

Satisfaction slithered through her. In a minute she'd be married and then Donald's nightmare would begin. But before the preacher could continue, a roar from a motorcycle reverberated throughout the sanctity of the church. Mumbles of disgust were drowned as the rumbling grew louder. Suddenly the main doors to the church burst inward.

To Lacey's horror, a leather clad man straddling a motorcycle shot through the opening. His face was hidden behind a dark visor, yet his powerful body seemed oddly familiar as he gunned the bike down the aisle toward the wedding party.

And toward her!

Paralyzed with fear, Lacey could only watch in disbelief as the rider reached out, grabbed her snugly around her waist and literally swept her off her feet. In one rugged swoop, he plopped her onto the seat in front of him. Using his powerful hips, he straddled her thighs. Pushing his strong arms against the sides of her body, he effectively held her captive.

With frightening speed, her captor angled the bike around the shocked wedding party and headed down the isle.

An aisle she should have been walking down!

Warm sunshine blasted against her face as they shot through the front door. For a brief insane moment she had the urge to push herself from the man's secure embrace and throw herself off the bike, but at the tremendous rate of speed he was traveling, she'd die the instant she hit the pavement.

Her only hope of escape lay with Donald.

Casting a quick glance over her shoulder, the blood in her veins froze. Donald and his henchmen stood in the church doorway. Guns were drawn.

And they were aiming at her!

She winced as a volley of shots rang out. Her captor pressed his strong body deeper around her, protecting her as if she were in a cocoon.

Tires squealed. Burnt rubber assaulted her nostrils as he wrenched the handlebars and skidded into a side street.

Donald and the wedding party vanished from sight. As did her only hope of escape.

From behind her, her captor cursed violently and Lacey froze at the familiar voice.

Froze at the familiar masculine scent.

Heavens!

It couldn't be!

Closing her eyes, she prayed she was wrong.

But his raw scent found her. It seeped through the white satin of her wedding dress and caressed her skin.

Her breasts swelled in anticipation. Her nipples hardened into tight aching beads. His thick arousal pressed intimately against her backside and she remembered how he'd loved to take her from behind.

Warmth spilled throughout her body. Along with it came a need to have him buried deep inside her. Just like old times.

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