Biker's Virgin

For the past four years, Tristan had been the star in all my daydreams. He was everything you could want in a man. He was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. But I had always been his best friend’s little sister, and I feared he would never see me as anything more.

But that night at the family Christmas party, it seemed as though something had changed. Tristan looked at me differently, and when he smiled at me, I felt as though he were seeing me as a woman and not just Jason’s kid sister. I remembered that intoxicatingly elicit moment when Tristan had grabbed me suddenly and pulled me into a quiet little nook of the house. Before I could catch my breath, his lips had come down over mine, and he was kissing me, hard and passionate, as though he had wanted to kiss me for years.

I had been walking on sunshine the whole night and the next the morning. That is, until it became clear that Tristan didn’t even remember what had happened between us.

I was forced to face the fact that perhaps I had idealized the moment and that maybe, I had projected my feelings onto Tristan. I had created a connection between us that was far from mutual, and in the process, I had become just another forgotten name on his f

amously long list.

Again, I questioned why I had agreed to go to Tristan’s resort in Hawaii. Was this some desperate attempt to rewrite our narrative and win him over? Or was this just a way to find some much-needed closure? Personally, I hoped for the latter but feared that the truth was an altogether different story.

Chapter Three

Tristan

“Senator Everett asked me to personally thank you for the suite and your acquiescence to the late booking,” Ben said as we walked around the grand suite Everett and his wife had just vacated.

“He can thank me by lauding our hospitality all over New York,” I replied. “Did you tell him that?”

“Uh…no I didn’t,” Ben replied. “I thought it would be in poor taste.”

I laughed and rolled my eyes at him. “I was kidding, Ben,” I said. “Can’t you recognize a joke?”

“I don’t joke on the job,” he replied seriously.

I laughed, used to Ben’s rigid manner and unflinching professionalism. It was hard to believe that there was a time when I didn’t like him, but slowly and surely, he had started to grow on me.

I walked out to the large balcony to admire the view for a moment, and Ben was forced to follow me, with his clipboard in hand.

“This is heaven,” I said, admiring the breathtaking view.

“If it was, you certainly wouldn’t be allowed in,” he replied dryly.

“See? I knew you could crack a joke.”

“What makes you think I was joking?” he asked with a serious face.

I frowned. “Why do I let you get away with so much cheek?”

“Because you could never find anyone good enough to replace me,” he replied in a self-satisfied way.

“Fair enough,” I admitted. I saw the corner of Ben’s mouth turn up. “So, how are we doing so far? Any complaints?”

“None worth mentioning,” he replied. “A few construction issues on the west wing of the resort, but I managed to sort them out.”

“Don’t I have a meeting with the head of construction today?”

“Tomorrow,” Ben replied, referring his clipboard. “At five.”

“Five seems a bit late—”

“Five a.m.,” he clarified.

“Fuck,” I groaned. “That seems a bit early.”

“The team’s working around the clock to make sure we’re ready for our opening day on Christmas.”

“How many rooms are still under construction?”