Biker's Virgin

“Molly…”

Tristan sounded nervous suddenly, and I searched his face for some other revelation that would leave me with doubt.

“Yes?”

“The job is yours,” he said. “It’s been waiting for you all this time. You can start immediately.”

“Oh,” I said, not having expected that. “Okay…”

“I know you came back for the job,” he continued. “But I would ask you to consider staying for something else…someone else.”

I felt a smile slip onto my face.

“Would you consider taking me back, Molly?” he asked. “Would you consider coming back to me? Or have I screwed up too badly? Have I hurt you too much to expect you to still love me?”

I stared at Tristan for a long five seconds, memorizing the way his face looked in that moment. He was unbearably handsome, striking and raw. He was bearing his heart to me, and I knew that he was making an unspoken promise, a new commitment that would cement our relationship and take it to a state of permanence.

“Of course, I still love you,” I breathed, feeling the intense relief that came with saying the words. “I’ve loved you since I was fourteen years old. I’m not going to stop now.”

Our eyes met and I saw the burst of relief flow into his eyes. The next moment, we had leaped off our seats and into each other’s arms. I had never felt an embrace like that one before. We clung to each other, trying to get as close as possible. I could feel Tristan’s heartbeat racing against my own. I could feel his hurried breath. I could feel the way his pulse raced ahead, as though it were running a sprint.

When his lips met mine, it felt like the entire world, which had been off its axis for the last five weeks, righted itself again. Suddenly everything was back to normal, everything made sense again.

Our bodies collided like two powerful waves meeting at the end of a long journey. It was a crash that I felt deep inside me. When Tristan began ripping at my clothes, I returned the favor and began pulling at his shirt, unbuckling his pants and grappling with his hands as they rushed over my body.

His lips were searing hot as they grazed my neck, my lips, and my breasts. He pushed me against his desk, and I felt the clatter of unimportant stationary as it hit the ground. Tristan didn’t even blink—he just kept going and I could see the need in his eyes. I massaged his cock as he pulled the dress off me. I knew he wanted me naked—just as I wanted the same of him. We had been too long without one another’s bodies, and I craved the carnal heat of his skin.

When we were both naked, Tristan pushed me back against his desk until I was spread-eagled against the cold wood. When he pushed himself inside me, I let out a loud gasp and grabbed at his toned and muscular arms. He fucked me hard, almost brutally, but it was perfect, it was freeing, and it was exactly what I wanted. I wanted to feel the hard fierceness of his cock as he slammed into me.

My body was alive with lust and desire, and I came faster than I had ever expected to. Tristan was not done, however, and he kept fucking me until gasps and moans were forced from my mouth without my permission. All I could do was cling to him and scream. Just when the second orgasm was about to hit, Tristan pulled me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Pulling me closer into the curve of his body, he kept fucking me.

Our faces were inches apart. I could see the heat of his dark eyes bore into mine, and it made our love making that

much more intense. Each time he slipped in and out of me, I felt our connection grow deeper and stronger. This was more than just sex—this was our promise to one another. This was Tristan telling me that he was going to do his best; he was going to try harder. This was me telling Tristan that I wouldn’t leave again, this was me promising him that I would always be there to support and help him.

The second time, he kissed me passionately as we came together in chaos made of moans and screams and gasps of pleasure. He held me afterwards, as I leaned against him. We were both sweating slightly, and I breathed in deeply, realizing that I had missed the musky sensual smell of him.

“This is it, right?” Tristan whispered in my ear.

“It is,” I nodded. “No more getting scared, okay?”

“I can’t promise that,” he told me honestly. “But I promise to come to you if ever I get scared again.”

I smiled and kissed his brow softly. “I can live with that,” I said.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Tristan

Three Months Later

“I understand it’s irregular,” I said. “But the kitchen on the island wasn’t made to withstand heavy cooking. I need the hotel to bear the brunt of the cooking. Cover over the food with foil if you must and get it on the boats as fast as possible.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you,” I nodded, before I hung up.

Sighing, I sat back down in my chair just before Ben walked in. He was looking at his clipboard with a frown on his face.