Biker's Virgin (An MC Romance)

by Claire Adams

  “I know I have a chance,” I snapped. “That’s not the point.”

  “I can’t believe I want to know what the point is, but I do.”

  I gave him a short glare. “The point is she’s Jason’s sister.”

  “You do get repetitive, you know.”

  “Would you sleep with a friend’s sister?” I demanded.

  Ben raised his eyebrows. “Is that it, then?” he asked. “You just want to sleep with her?”

  “I…no…yes… I… Fuck!” I cursed. “You don’t know my track record, okay?”

  Ben looked at me incredulously for a moment. “Debbie, Annette, Tiffany, Brooke, Laura, Tanya, Tiffany again, Sandra, Mona, Alison, Mona again, Ti—”

  “Okay, okay,” I said, holding up my hands to stop him. “So you know my track record. My point is that I don’t stick with one woman for long. I move on, in favor of work or another woman. And if I were to get involved with Molly…”

  “You won’t be able to treat her like crap because her brother would kill you?”

  “Well…yeah.”

  “So, you’re scared of Jason?”

  “I’m scared of hurting Molly,” I said. “But the Jason thing, too.”

  Ben smiled. “And you don’t think you can change?”

  “Meaning, do I think I’m capable of commitment?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then maybe it’s best you stay away from Molly.”

  I sighed. “This honesty thing sucks.”

  “And our hour is up,” Ben said, standing up and heading for the door. “You really should give me a second salary for moonlighting as your shrink.”

  “You’re an ass,” I muttered.

  He actually looked pleased with himself. “Shall I make you a reservation at the Lagoon, or perhaps Mosaic?”

  “What?” I asked, in confusion. “I always eat at Albero.”

  “And, Molly is always at Albero,” he pointed out. “Don’t you think you’d better avoid that restaurant for now?”

  I was contemplating the sense in that, but as much as I hated seeing Molly with all her dates, I also wanted to see her. Ben seemed to realize this simply from the expression on my face.

  “Have fun at Albero’s,” he said, with a smirk, before heading down.

  Sighing at my weakness, I made my way to Albero’s determined to be an adult and simply allow Molly to do her thing while I did mine. The moment I entered the restaurant, however, my eyes searched for her.

  She was sitting at the usual table in a silver mini dress that showcased her shapely legs. Her blonde hair fell down her back in waves, and I wondered what it would be like to touch her hair. I imagined it would feel like silk.

  I was so mesmerized by Molly that I didn’t immediately recognize the man sitting opposite her. With a lurch of unpleasantness, I realized that Molly’s date was none other than Gregory.

  “The fucking bastard,” I said to myself through gritted teeth.

  I stalked over to my table, trying to be as visible as possible so that either Gregory or Molly would notice me enter, but neither one so much as turned their head in my direction. In fact, it looked like Gregory was utterly absorbed in Molly and vice versa. She kept laughing and touching his arm as though he were the most interesting man on the planet.

  I, for one, just wanted to walk up to him and choke him. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do that before or after I kicked him out of my resort.

  I sat down at my table, but my appetite had completely disappeared. When Kani appeared before me with the menu, blocking Molly and Gregory from my line of vision, I all but bit his head off. He scurried off looking confused and frightened, and I felt like a complete asshole.

  “Shit, this is not good,” I muttered to myself.

  I couldn’t quite believe that Molly was on a date with Gregory. I remembered all the questions Gregory had aimed at me about Molly. Now, I realized that he had an ulterior motive the whole time. I was a fool for not having caught it sooner.

  I was more than a little surprised with Molly, too. Gone was the shy young girl I had first met ten years ago. She had blossomed into a woman—and a confident one at that. It was obvious that men were lining up for her, and she was taking full advantage of that fact.

  I ended up ordering a couple of appetizers because I didn’t think I could stomach an entire main, but I kept twisting and turning in my seat, trying to see what Molly and Gregory were up to. Every time she smiled at him, I wanted to throw something. Every time he touched her, I wanted to walk over to him and punch him in the face. I knew I was being juvenile and petty and completely irrational, but my feelings were completely unhinged from reason, and I couldn’t seem to rein them back in.

  When my starters arrived at the table, I stabbed at the ravioli angrily until I realized that I was imagining Gregory’s face. The sound of Molly’s laughter had me turning back in their direction again. This time, I snapped. Before I could check myself, I was walking towards the table where Molly and Gregory were sitting.

  Chapter Twelve

  Molly

  I had decided to wear my silver mini dress with the lace inserts. It was sexy, yet sophisticated, and it showed just the right amount of skin. I had arranged my hair into careless waves that fell over one shoulder and had applied only light makeup with dark lipstick to complete the come-hither look. I was hoping that my outfit, in combination with my date, might bring about the reaction I was hoping for.

  At the very least, Gregory seemed to appreciate my effort. “Wow,” he said, the moment I emerged from my room. “You look drop dead gorgeous.”

  I smiled. “Thank you.”

  He offered me his arm like a true gentleman, and we headed downstairs to Pepe Albero. I was looking forward to the meal and only slightly wary of taking Gregory as my date. But I figured either Tristan would be completely indifferent or only slightly indignant. It didn’t matter to me…much anyway. I was starting to resign myself to the fact that Tristan would never see me as anything but Jason’s little sister. He had frozen me in place in the image of the fourteen-year-old girl I had been when we had first met.

  The first time I had set eyes on Tristan, he had been getting out of the car just in front of our house, and I had been hiding out in my room. He was over six feet tall, a particularly impressive feature considering that I was much shorter at the time. He had been wearing a black t-shirt and printed shorts, and his hair had that carelessly windblown look that every young aspiring model lusted after.

  I had frozen the moment I saw him and the world had slowed down for a moment. And in those five seconds, I had gone from infatuation to love to longing. A part of me realized, as Gregory and I exited the elevator, that nothing had really shifted all that much since then. Ten years had passed, and it appeared I was still the same fourteen-year-old girl who was staring at Tristan, desperate for him to notice me.

  “Just have fun,” I told myself harshly.

  “Sorry,” Gregory asked, alerting me to the fact that I had spoken out loud. “Did you say something?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “Nothing.”

  We entered the restaurant, and I was shown to what had now become my usual table. I looked around subtly, but it was clear that Tristan hadn’t arrived yet. Nakoa approached with his ready smile and two menus. “Good evening, Ms. Sinclair,” he greeted. I saw him turn to my date and a glimmer of surprise flitted across his face. In the next second, however, it was gone. “And to you, as well, Mr. Winchester.”

  “Thank you, my good man,” Gregory nodded, as he accepted the menu.

  “Thank you, Nakoa,” I said, giving him a smile. “Any recommendations for me tonight?”

  “What are you in the mood for, ma’am?”

  “Something light and delicious.”

  Nakoa smiled. “Might I suggest the shrimp gnocchi with salmon then?” he suggested. “It’s superb.”

  “Have you tried it?” I asked, with interest.

 
; “Just yesterday,” Nakoa nodded.

  “And, did you like it better than the tortellini?”

  “I did.”

  “That’s all the encouragement I need then,” I said. “I’ll try the gnocchi.”

  “Excellent,” Nakoa nodded. “And for you, Mr. Winchester?”

  “I’ll have the Ragu,” Gregory replied as he handed Nakoa the menu.

  Once we were alone, Gregory turned to me with a touch of surprise in his eyes. “You’re very familiar with the waiters.”

  “I come here almost every night.”

  “So do I,” he pointed out. “And yet, I still don’t have conversations with any of them.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him, and he smiled in an embarrassed sort of way. “That came out sounding a little…”

  “Elitist?” I offered bluntly.

  “I suppose it did, didn’t it?”

  “What’s your point, Gregory?”

  “It’s nice,” he said. “It’s nice to see someone who takes such an interest in the people around her.”

  “The hospitality industry is built on the backs of people like Nakoa,” I said. “They’re the unsung heroes in many ways. They do a lot of the grunt work for not much money, and very often they get treated the worst. I was a waitress once, so I understand what it means to serve people who don’t treat you very well.”

  “You waitressed?”

  “I did,” I nodded. “For two years before I started college, and in that time, I learned a lot about the world. I learned a lot about people, too. And sometimes, it feels as though they forget that waiters and servers and managers are people, too. They’re owed respect as much as the next person.”

  “I agree,” Gregory nodded. He looked thoughtful for a moment.

  “What?” I asked, sensing that he wanted to ask me a question, but wasn’t sure if he should or not.

  “Well… You’re from a rich family,” he said.

  “I am,” I nodded, suppressing my smile for a moment.

  “I guess I’m wondering why you chose to get a job in the first place?”

  “Because of that precise mentality.”

  “What mentality?” Gregory asked.

  “The kind of mentality that assumes because I was born into a privileged home, I don’t know how to work hard. Or perhaps that I won’t do certain jobs because I feel like it was beneath me. My father used to say to Jason and me all the time when we were growing up: no job is beneath me. A job is a job, and there is dignity in working hard, no matter what it is. We all have a part to play.”

  “Your father sounds like the kind of man who would have raised a woman like you.”

  I smiled. “What kind of woman is that?”

  “Intelligent, hard-working, strong, and ambitious,” Gregory told me. “With the ability to still be humble, empathetic, and kind.”

  I smiled, touched by his words. “Thank you,” I said. “That’s nice of you to say.”

  “I’m not trying to be nice,” he said. “I’m just being honest.”

  “I saw my father and mother work hard my whole life,” I said. “And, a part of me knew that even if I never became as successful as the two of them, I still wanted to do something all on my own, without contacts or help or support from anyone. That’s the reason I started working part-time jobs from the age of thirteen.”

  “Sounds like you’ve had quite a few jobs.”

  “Oh tons,” I said. “I waitressed, I had a paper route, I sold shoes in this huge department store close to home, I did grunt work at the local zoo, I worked in an old folks’ home for two summers in a row, and I worked in a couple of publication houses in the city.”

  “What was your favorite job?” Gregory asked.

  “Surprisingly, it was working at the old folks’ home.”

  “No way.”

  “Honestly,” I said. “They were all just so sweet… I made some friends while I was there. But working at the zoo was a close second.”

  “Wow,” he said, and he looked impressed. “Worst job?”

  I thought about it for a moment. “Waitressing, probably,” I said. “I had good moments, but more often than not you end up getting yelled at by some rude customer who’s taking his bad day out on you.”

  “Hence the empathy for waiters?”

  “Yes,” I nodded.

  I got distracted for a moment when I noticed Tristan enter the restaurant. As his head turned in our direction, I looked away quickly so that he wouldn’t catch me staring. I realized after a second that I was actually enjoying talking to Gregory. He was easy to talk to, he was obviously interested in what I had to say, and he was actually wittier than I had expected him to be.

  I decided to focus on him and push Tristan from my thoughts. Even as I resolved to that, however, I secretly hoped that he would notice and would feel a little jealous.

  “What about you?” I asked. “Have you had many jobs before you made it big?”

  Gregory smiled. “The truth is, I’m one of those spoon-fed rich kids. My father was a powerful man, and he pulled strings to get me into Harvard. Afterwards, he got me a job in this company and things sort of snowballed from there. I made contacts, rose through the ranks, and when I was confident enough, I started a company of my own. None of which would have happened at all if I hadn’t already been rich.”

  I smiled. “It’s nice that you’re so honest.”

  “You have to be honest with yourself if you expect to get anywhere in life,” he observed. “I’ve worked hard for what I’ve achieved, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that I never had to start from scratch. I always had opportunities handed to me. You can’t know how much I admire you for doing things on your own, instead of relying on your parents.”

  “Hey, I’m not judging,” I rushed to tell him. “There’s nothing wrong with getting help when someone offers. The point is that you take the help you’re given and make something more of it. It’s what Jason did, and it’s what Tristan did, too.”

  “That’s—”

  “Molly,” a hard voice said at my shoulder. “Gregory.”

  I turned around in surprise to see Tristan standing over our table, staring daggers at Gregory. His expression was cold, bordering on furious, and I was shocked at how harsh his tone was.

  “Tristan,” I said uncertainly. “What’s wrong?”

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Tristan demanded of Gregory, without even looking at me.

  Gregory kept calm and regarded Tristan coolly. “I’m having dinner,” he said, with a faint smile. “What are you doing?”

  Instead of answering him, Tristan turned to me. “Molly, come with me.”

  I bristled at his commanding tone of voice. “Excuse me?”

  “I need to speak with you—now.”

  “About what?”

  “I think Molly just wants to have dinner with me, Tristan,” Gregory said. He put his hand on Tristan’s arm, but Tristan shook it away violently.

  “Tristan,” I said, standing up. “Calm down; if you want to talk, let’s talk. Excuse me, Gregory.”

  I could sense how tense and cold Tristan seemed to be. The moment we had turned into a large, deserted corridor, he rounded on me.

  “What are you doing with him?” he demanded.

  I raised my eyebrows. “We were having dinner,” I said. “Before you interrupted us.”

  “He’s not good enough for you.”

  I was taken aback by the reaction. I had hoped for a little jealousy, but I’d never expected this kind of uncontained anger. I couldn’t even be pleased because I was so shocked.

  “He’s not?” I asked in disbelief.

  “He plays the field,” Tristan blurted out. “He flits from one woman to another without a care in the world.”

  “Something you have in common with him.”

  My comment made him pause for only a second. “He’s too old for you; he’s too experienced, and you’re too—”

  “Too what?” I demanded, starti
ng to get angry myself.

  “Too…young,” Tristan said, tripping over his words. “Too inexperienced…too pure.”

  I blinked at him for a moment. When I found my voice, I took a step towards him and looked him directly in the eye. “I am not a child, Tristan,” I said through gritted teeth. “I am no one’s plaything, and I certainly am not yours to be told who I should or should not be having dinner with. I am a grown woman. And I will make my own decisions. If you don’t like it, then that’s your damn problem.”

  Tristan was quiet for so long that I started to feel a little uncomfortable. The coldness in his eyes ebbed a little, but I could see that he was still angry.

  I shook my head at him. “I can’t believe you still see me as a child.”

  He looked down, breaking the eye contact between us. “I definitely do not see you as a child,” he said softly.

  The change of tone surprised me, prompting me to search his face for some clue as to the cause. His intense dark eyes were masked over, and I could barely decipher what was hidden beneath them. I felt the heat between our bodies and the tension of our exchange, and for one insane second, I thought he was going to kiss me.

  And just as my body leaned in towards his, Tristan turned his back on me and walked away without so much as a word or a backward glance.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tristan

  I had slept fitfully the whole night, contributing to my already dark mood. I had hoped I would cool down overnight, but somehow, I felt as annoyed and angry as I had the previous night. I kept seeing Molly in her stunning silver dress, with her golden hair flung over one shoulder like some angel out of my dreams. Then I kept remembering Gregory’s smug smile as he told me that Molly just wanted to have dinner with him.

  The worst thing about all of it was that Gregory was right. Molly was right. They were adults who were on a date. I had no right to impose on their dinner, and I had stepped way out of line by demanding that Molly speak to me in private right in the middle of her date with Gregory.

  Unfortunately, even though I could see reason, I couldn’t seem to be calmed by it. My mind was a live wire, and I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than Molly and Gregory.