Page 57 of Sinners MC: A MC Anthology

Wrong Address

By Mandy Michelle

Chapter One

Jason

Casey Andrews?

Jason shook the long narrow package he found in his mailbox. He was not Casey, but it was his address, Apartment 3B, typed on the label.

He tossed the parcel down on the kitchen table with his latest copy of Biker Beauties and jogged back down to the lobby. C. Andrews. Apartment 3C.

Ah. The little cutie next door. Only moved in a few weeks ago.

Five feet zilch, fiery red hair, and big, nerdy glasses. She seemed shy, but there was more to her than met the eye. The girl had a voracious sex life. He heard a lot of moaning through their shared wall.

He wouldn’t admit it to anyone in his motorcycle club, The Rolling Devils, but he had gotten off to the sound of her cries of pleasure a time or two.

Jason wanted her, but she never gave him the time of day. She went out of her way not to meet his lascivious gaze. It was probably because he was a leather clad, tattooed biker and she was the buttoned-up, office type.

Now he had a package to deliver. And if she was lucky, he might let her open his package too.

Chapter Two

Casey

Delivered.

Yet, besides her latest issue of Toned and Tattooed magazine, her mailbox had been empty. The discreet parcel she was waiting for was not there when she had checked her box before leaving for work.

Her stomach dropped. Someone else had her package.

What had she been thinking? She should have just slipped on a pair of black shades and went to the grimy XXX shop on the other side of town like Jessa told her to.

After a rare night of drinking over Skype with her best friend back home in Kansas, Casey had confessed her birthday wish was a big purple vibrator. In her inebriated state, she had placed the order that very night. Something to bring to life all that porn she watched.

But it was more than that. She couldn’t count the times in the last couple weeks she had fantasized about her sexy new neighbor, his leather jacket, toned thighs in torn jeans, and mussed hair, tousled by the wind from riding on his Harley.

Casey took her glasses off and rubbed her hands over her reddening face. Someone in her building had her brand-new vibrator. She groaned.

“What’s that, Casey?”

She closed the e-mail, with the helpful photo of exactly what she ordered bright on the screen and looked up at her co-worker Russ. “Sorry?”

“I thought I heard you call me?”

She bit her lip and closed her eyes. The sweet guy in the cubicle next door was always looking for an excuse to talk to her. “Nope.”

“Oh. Uh, okay.” He laughed. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Thanks.” Back to worrying was more like it.

After looking over her shoulder, she opened the online order form once more and doublechecked the address she had entered.

And there it was. 3B.

THREE.

---