Deviant Dream — Desiree A. Cox

All Taylor wanted to do was go home after her long shift. First the tire blew out, then her cell phone battery was dead. Her night had become a complete disaster. Her choices were limited - she could walk to a convenience store a half mile away in heels, or go a few blocks to an after-hours motorcycle bar. Opting to save her feet, she chose to visit the bar and ignored the previous warnings by a couple of her friends. What could happen? A few motorcycle clubbers whistling and complimenting her? She'd readily welcome that after the night she'd had.