Biker's Virgin
“Who told you?”
“Does it matter?” Ben asked wryly. “The point is the whole hotel is buzzing… Apparently, they’ve never seen the boss so angry before.”
“I was not angry,” I lied. “I was…annoyed.”
“Okay,” he replied with obvious disdain.
“Why are you calling?” I asked again, without much effort to be polite.
“I’m calling to ask if you plan to make it to your seven o’clock meeting or not?”
I glanced at the clock and cursed furiously. “Fuck, it’s seven-ten.”
“I’m aware.”
“Fuck,” I said again. “Can you push the appointment to eight?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he replied.
“Oh, and one more thing before you leave…”
“Yes?”
“What room is Gregory staying in?”
“He has a superior suite,” Ben replied after a short, meaningful pause. “The number is one thousand.”
I knew I shouldn’t be doing this; there was more at stake than a simple friendship. Gregory was an investor—a significant investor at that—and I couldn’t afford to alienate him. And yet, despite the unending refrain in my head, I couldn’t seem to slow my pace or turn back.
It took me seven minutes to get to Gregory’s suite. I noticed that all my employees seemed to turn the other way when they saw me approach. Most averted their gaze or looked down at their shoes. Apparently, I had left quite the impression.
I didn’t allow myself to think about it. I just kept walking until I got to the suite. It was situated in an alcove meant to offer added privacy. I paced for a minute, before finally knocking on the door.
I stood there for exactly five seconds before another horrifying realization dawned on me. What if Gregory wasn’t in his suite tonight? What if he was with Molly in her suite? Or what if the door opened and it was Molly staring me in the face? What if she had spent the night with Gregory? I was contemplating breaking down the door and seeing what the situation was when the door swung open.
Gregory was standing there in one of the fluffy white robes that the resort provided for guests. He had obviously been sleeping. I felt a twinge of sadistic pleasure at having woken him up. It was childish and completely unreasonable, but I was powerless to stop myself. I walked into the suite without an invitation, and Gregory was forced to close the door and follow me into his room.
“Uh… Tristan,” he said, and even his voice was groggy with sleep. “I can’t say that I’m very happy with this wake-up call.”
“We need to talk,” I said, rounding on him fiercely.
He yawned and looked towards the tiny private bar that each suite was equipped with. “Will I need a drink for this?”
“That depends.”
“Oh boy,” he sighed. “Let me go splash some cold water on my face then.”
Unable to stop him, I watched him disappear into the alcove where his room and bathroom were situated. Unable to stand still, I started to pace around the living room, wondering if he was hiding Molly in his bedroom. I noticed he had made a point of closing the door behind him. What if she was in there trying to avoid being seen?
I thought back to the previous night and the heated words we had exchanged in the corridor. Molly had turned on me with blazing blue eyes and a confidence that had me weak in the knees. I had never been more turned on, and at the same time, I had never been more aware of the pointlessness of all that lust and passion.
When Gregory came back into the living room, he was fully dressed and looked much more alert and extremely amused. That observation only served to make my mood darker.
“Why are you here, Tristan?” Gregory asked calmly as he sat down on the couch.
“Molly,” I said.
He sighed. “Would you like to sit down?”