It doesn’t bother me if you call me a motoho. Ever since my cheating bastard of an ex-fiancé left me with an STD that rendered me infertile, I’m not looking for a relationship, but I do occasionally have an itch to scratch. With Thunder Valley Raceway nearby, there’s no shortage of motocross riders passing through town, and they’re fit, fine, and looking for a good time, not a long time. So why shouldn’t I partake once in a while?
Still, I’m a little surprised Tyler Biggs was game; he’s not known as a player, unlike some riders I could name. And I’ll admit, I’m kind of sorry we only had one night together. Tyler is model handsome, smart, and phenomenal in bed. I wouldn’t mind hitting that a few more times, especially since he lives less than an hour away when he’s not on the circuit. But before I can decide whether or not I’m ready to take that step, life throws me a curveball, and I have no choice but to see Tyler again.
Tyler
I’m not normally a one-night-stand kind of guy, but the night I met Mandy, an uncomplicated romp in the sheets was exactly what I needed to remind myself that there’s more to life than motocross racing. So what if I don’t win the championship this year? I can still hook up with the prettiest, funniest girl in the bar if I want to and have mind-blowing monkey sex with her. In the best possible world, we would have more time, but motocross moves on and that means I have to, too. And then, eight weeks later, Mandy shows up on my doorstep and drops the other shoe.
A teeny, tiny one.