Biker's Virgin (An MC Romance)

by Claire Adams

  “Fuck,” I growled, and right as I said this, she let her knees bend. and she dropped down, taking me all the way back in. I grabbed her hips again and held her still; luckily, she didn’t try to move, otherwise, it would’ve been done and over with right then and there.

  “Just hold still a sec,” I said. “Easy there.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” she said. “You feel so good. I feel like I’m about to come again. Is that even possible?”

  But hearing that was like a challenge issued: if she was close to coming a second time, I sure as hell wanted to make sure that it happened. And so we started to move again, and I reached up and touched her breasts, then licked my fingertips and squeezed her nipples, rolling them between my thumb and forefinger. She let her head fall back, and we were both trying not to make any noise but failing miserably. If my parents happened to return early and heard noises from the next door neighbor’s house, they’d probably think that someone was being murdered, or, at the very least, tortured. But that was the furthest thing from the truth, because we were both about to climax, right at the same time, her muscles spasming as she came, squeezing my cock, pushing me past the point of no return. I didn’t even pull out; I didn’t have the wherewithal to do so.

  The orgasm peaked, but the feeling didn’t begin to recede immediately, as it normally did. Instead, that feeling continued, it was like prolonged, and it lasted for another minute or so, rolling through me.

  Finally, the feeling ebbed enough that it felt like I could control my limbs enough to move. Allie was somehow able to contour herself around me so we could both fit in the lounge chair together. I had my arm around her and was running my fingers through her hair, her body warm and entwined against mine. There was a slight breeze, and the sun was bathing us in this luxurious warmth.

  “I don’t ever want to get up,” Allie said. “This is so perfect, right here.”

  I kissed the top of her forehead. She was right; there’d be nothing better to do than to fall asleep, wake up in a few hours, and do the whole thing over again. But if I let myself doze now, I probably wouldn’t wake up until my parents got back, and I couldn’t have them finding us out here like this.

  “I can’t let myself fall asleep, though,” I said. “Even though that’s pretty much all I want to do right now. I’m not exactly sure how long my parents will be out with Declan for.”

  “Of course,” Allie said, her voice heavy with sleep. “That wouldn’t be good if they got back and found us out here like this. That would probably scar Declan for life.”

  We lay there for a few more minutes, and then Allie got up. “Should we take a shower, at least?”

  “That would probably be a good idea.”

  We gathered our clothes and walked into her house. We went into the bathroom, she turned the water on lukewarm, and we both climbed in.

  So much for the bike ride.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Allie

  Life was undeniably good.

  I wanted to shout this from the rooftops, I wanted to skip down the street, I found myself wanting to go up to perfect strangers and just start talking to them. I could not remember ever feeling this good, this happy, about things before. I’d wake up in the morning, and there’d be a smile on my face. I’d lounge around in bed, luxuriating for a few moments before happily getting up. It didn’t matter if I was going into work or had errands to run, or—even better—was going over to see Cole; I felt as though this sheen of happiness had settled over me and followed me around wherever I went.

  “It’s because you’re in love,” Amy said to me. We were sitting at the Black Cat Café, getting dinner after work one evening. We had Caesar salads with grilled shrimp and were both drinking chilled white wine, which was undeniably refreshing on this rather humid day. “When you can’t get the grin off your face and everything seems great, well, that’s how you know you’re in love.”

  “I have definitely never been in love before,” I said. “Is that really what this is?”

  “Of course. And why not? I’ve seen the two of you together; you guys definitely have some serious chemistry. Which is awesome. In fact, I’d even say I’m a little jealous. Everyone would be, though. Cole is so hot.”

  I felt myself blush a little, and I took a sip of my wine. Just talking about it made me feel giddy, and I remembered, in high school, the way some girls would get sometimes, around certain boys, their laughter, the way they couldn’t get the grins off their faces...at the time, I’d wondered what the hell was wrong with them, but now, it seemed I understood.

  “Have either of you... you know, said it yet?” Amy asked.

  “Said what? I love you? No. I mean, it seems a little soon for that, don’t you think?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t like to be put a timeline on it. Like, it’s okay to say it after three months? Six months? Six weeks? I think it depends on each situation.”

  “Well, this is the first time that I’ve ever been in this situation.”

  “Really, what I mean is that you should say it when you feel it. I went out with this guy once, and I think we dated for about seven months. I liked him, but I wasn’t in love with him, so I never said it. That didn’t stop him from saying it, though.”

  “Ooh,” I said, wincing. “Yeah. That must’ve been a little awkward.”

  “It was. I had to pretend that I didn’t hear him, and luckily, he didn’t try saying it again.” She laughed. “Not my proudest moment, but yeah, it is wicked awkward if you say it and the person doesn’t feel the same way! That always seems to happen with me. I’m ready to say it and the guy isn’t, or vice versa.”

  “I don’t want that to happen.”

  “I don’t think it will. I’m not a mind reader or anything, but you and Cole just really seem to be on the same page. I would be very surprised if you said it to him, and he didn’t say it back.”

  I finished my glass of wine, and when the waitress came over and asked if I wanted another, I said yes. I didn’t know if I was ready to say it out loud yet. I’d never been in love with anyone before, and though it was definitely exhilarating, there was a tiny part of me that was afraid of it, too. Because everything I was feeling right now seemed to be magnified, seemed bigger, seemed more intense, and what if I said it to Cole, and he pretended he didn’t hear me? Or told me that, while he did like me, he wasn’t in love with me?

  I gulped down half my glass of wine after the waitress dropped it off. “You know, I think I might just hold off,” I said. “I don’t know if I have the nerve to do it yet.”

  “It can be kind of nerve-wracking,” Amy said. “But I really don’t think that you have anything to worry about in terms of him not feeling the same way.”

  “I hope you’re right,” I said.

  I stopped drinking after I finished that second glass of wine because I wanted to be able to drive home and not put anyone else’s life in danger. Once I was home, though, I rummaged through the fridge and got out the bottle of Pinot Grigio I had bought the last time I went to town to grocery shop. I didn’t have any wine glasses, so I drank out of an old jelly jar.

  I sat out on the deck, bringing the bottle of wine with me. I wouldn’t drink the whole thing, but I would allow myself another glass or two. The air still felt so hot and heavy, even though the sun had set a while ago.

  I wouldn’t go over to Cole’s, I told myself, unless I saw the garage light go on. It was late enough that I knew Declan would be in bed, sound asleep, but I wasn’t going to go over there and knock on the door. If I saw the light go on in the garage, though, I’d know that he was out there, probably working on his bike or something, and I could at least go over and say hi.

  I ended up drinking two more jelly jars of wine. I didn’t realize how tipsy I was until I went to stand up and go back inside. How much had I had at dinner? I couldn’t remember. A couple, I thought. I wasn’t completely obliterated, but I was definitely buzzed. I was about to go in through the slider door
when I looked over to Cole’s and saw that the garage light was in fact on, and a rectangle of yellow light was spilling out onto the driveway. Meaning, not only was he out there, but the garage door was open.

  I nearly tripped and fell as I navigated the deck steps, and then almost fell again, this time into the blueberry bushes that separated our two yards. When I finally untangled myself, I stood there for a moment, trying to get my bearings. I took a deep breath and then continued my journey to his garage. He was coming out right as I stepped onto the driveway.

  “Oh, hey,” he said. “I thought I heard something out here.”

  “That would be me,” I said. “Falling into the blueberry bushes.”

  He had an amused look on his face. “Party for one over there tonight?” he asked.

  “It would’ve been a party for two if you had come over,” I said. “I would’ve liked that very much.”

  “I would have, too. My invitation must’ve gotten lost in the mail.”

  I went right over to him and put my hand on his chest, feeling his smooth muscles underneath his T-shirt. “It’s an open invitation for you,” I said. “Or standing invitation. Or whatever the correct term is. You can come over any time that you want.”

  “Why, thank you,” he said. I felt his arm encircle my waist, and I tilted my head back a little to look at him. I started to laugh. “Do I have something stuck on my face?” he asked.

  “No,” I said, between fits of giggles. “I was just thinking that we probably looked like the cover of one of those romance novels you can buy at the grocery store. You know, the damsel pressing herself up against the big strong man, the wind blowing their hair.” My hair was, in fact, getting blown back from the fan he had running on his work bench. “This is probably a very photogenic moment right now.”

  “You’re no damsel in distress, though,” he said. “Well, maybe at this moment you are. You seem a little...intoxicated.”

  “Only a little,” I protested. “I was just enjoying some libations because it’s was so hot today. And still is. Maybe I should take my clothes off.”

  “I could help you with that, you know.”

  “No, you’re going to sit over there.”

  I nudged him toward a weight bench that looked as though it hadn’t been used in quite some time.

  “All right,” he said agreeably. He sat down.

  “Is your phone out here?” I asked.

  “No, it’s inside.”

  I looked over at his work bench. “Does that stereo work?”

  “Yeah. There’s actually good, old-fashioned CDs in there.”

  “Which ones?”

  “I don’t know. Are you looking for anything specific?”

  “Um...something with a good beat.”

  “Well, let’s see what’s in there.”

  He got up and turned the stereo and the receiver on, and the first CD that started to play seemed to be an 80’s hit mix. He skipped over Billy Idol and the Cars, until “Obsession” came on and I told him to stop.

  “Okay, go sit back down,” I said.

  I didn’t know why I was doing this, other than I wanted to, and I thought that it might make him laugh. I never went out to clubs or anything, but I was pretty good at moving with a beat, and as the music played, I started to gyrate my hips and run my hands up and down my sides. I slowly worked the hem of my shirt up and then I pulled it off, lobbing it over my head where it sailed through the air and landed unceremoniously on a red wagon full of pool noodles.

  Cole laughed, then clapped, biting down on his lip, looking at me appreciatively.

  I stayed in beat with the song, pushing my shorts down, stepping out of them. I danced around in my underwear, going over to Cole, straddling him, letting my face get close to his but never quite touching.

  When the song ended, he ran his hands down my flanks and kissed me.

  “You know,” he said, “I think this is the nicest thing that anyone has ever done for me.”

  “Happy to oblige,” I said. “I love you.”

  The words just slipped out; I certainly hadn’t been planning on saying them right then. But maybe this was like what Amy had been talking about at dinner; that you just needed to let it happen organically.

  “Oops,” I said, smiling. “Did I just say that?”

  It was probably the alcohol in me, but I didn’t feel afraid of him not saying it back; I didn’t care, I loved him, and that was not contingent on whether or not he felt the same way back to me.

  He was looking at me intently, a serious expression on his face. He didn’t say anything.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. It probably seems like it’s way too soon or something, and now you think I’m this psycho crazy person who just falls in love with anyone. But...that’s not true at all. And you don’t have to feel this way back, it’s okay, I’m not saying it because I expect you to say it in return, I just really wanted to—”

  “Allie, shhh,” he interrupted, putting his finger up to my lips. The tiniest of smiles was curving the corners of his mouth. “I actually don’t think it’s way too soon because just the other day I was thinking that I felt the same way about you, too. It’s not something I take lightly; I don’t just throw the word around. I want you to know that. But I love you, too. And I love this little striptease you just did for me.”

  I gave him another kiss. “Well you know, there’s plenty more of those to follow.”

  “After you sleep that hangover off,” he said with a wink.

  On Sunday, as I was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a coffee, I saw Cole’s parents’ Range Rover parked in the driveway, and then they left, and not long after that, I saw Cole bring his bike out of the garage and ride off, looking entirely handsome and very in shape in that brightly-colored spandex riding outfit of his. I had planned to do some stuff around the house, but when Amy texted and asked if I wanted to go to the lake with her, I said sure.

  She came over and picked me up, and we stopped at the market first and got some food and a bottle of lemonade to bring with us. As we were setting our stuff up on the beach, I could hear my phone going off, alerting me that I had another text. My mother had sent me several texts already that morning, and I just had a feeling that it was going to be her again. And sure enough, when I looked down at the screen, it was.

  I’ll call you later, I messaged back, and then I turned my phone off and tossed it into my beach bag.

  “Everything okay?” Amy asked. She was stretched out on her towel, but looking over at me, her sunglasses perched on top of her head.

  “Oh, it’s fine,” I said. “Just my mother harassing me.”

  Amy laughed. “My mother was harassing me last week; she wants me to do this CrossFit thing with her. She’s always getting onto some new fitness kick and wanting me to do it with her. What’s your mom harassing you about?”

  “She wants me to come down to Boston with Cole and Declan. She’s like, really trying to get me to do it. She’s acting like it’s the only thing in the world she wants, and I’m ruining her life by denying her the experience.”

  “Oooh, I would love to go down to the city,” Amy said. “I don’t go down there nearly enough. It’s kind of intimidating to me, actually. But it probably wouldn’t be that way if I went down there more often.”

  “Boston is a huge clusterfuck,” I said. “So far as cities go, it’s fine, but I grew up there, and I’m not dying to return anytime soon.”

  “Even if it’s just for a visit? When my mom starts pestering me about the workout stuff, I usually go to the gym with her a couple times, and then she’ll leave me alone for a while, until she gets on some other kick. It’s not that bad, though.”

  “I don’t know...there’s other factors involved.”

  “Like what? If I’m prying, you can just tell me so, but I’m kind of an expert when it comes to ways to get your mother to stop harassing you.”

  “It’s not really my mom that I h
ave the problem with. We’re total opposites, but we have a decent relationship. It’s my stepfather that’s the problem.”

  “Oh,” Amy said. “Stepfathers... I don’t have any experience with them.”

  “Well, you’re lucky then. My stepfather tried to sexually assault me when I was a teenager,” I said. “Nothing ended up happening, but it’s basically ruined our relationship, which I think is kind of a given.”

  “Have you talked to your mother about it?”

  “I tried. And since nothing happened, and because it was so long ago now, she doesn’t believe me. I don’t know if she would have believed if me I told her right when it happened, either, but it makes things difficult. I just have no desire to be around him.”

  “That’s understandable. You know, something sort of similar happened to me when I was a freshman in college,” Amy said. “I went to this party, and there was this guy there that I sort of knew from one of my classes. I had a little too much to drink—okay, I had way too much—and he kind of ended up taking advantage of me.”

  “Oh, shit,” I said. “What an asshole. I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah. I felt pretty messed up about it for a while. I even went to see the campus counselor and everything. For almost six months, actually, but it was helpful.”

  “That’s good.” I wondered if maybe it would’ve been helpful if I had gone to talk with someone, if that would’ve helped me move past it. It seems a little late for that now, though.

  “It was. And I actually ended up talking to the guy about it. I didn’t feel threatened by him or anything, like he was going to hurt me physically, so I confronted him about it. And he apologized.”