Page 9 of Big Bossy Biker

She stays on me until I’m sensitive and twitching, not coming off until I ease her away. I maneuver her to her feet, holding onto her as the aches leave her legs. I pull her against me, capturing her mouth in slow kiss, tasting my cum on her tongue.

“What did you think?” she asks when she pulls away. “Not too shabby for my first time, huh?”

“Are you sure you’ve never done that before?” I chuckle, smoothing out her hair where my hands ruffled it.

“I haven’t,” she promises, her smile bright with the praise. “Scout’s honor.”

“Well, you’re a natural,” I murmur, kissing her again before I tuck myself back into my jeans.

“I’m a woman of many talents,” Fiona laughs with a flip of her hair.

“We should probably head back to the lobby,” I say after a beat of silence passes between us. “Just in case you get any guests tonight.”

“I’m not holding my breath,” she sighs, leaning over to kiss me. Then, she opens the door and exits, looking over her shoulder to make sure I’m following her. “We can sit on the couch. I don’t want to force you to stand.”

“I’d love that,” I say, following her over to the old, ratty couch. It’s seen better days, but it’s comfortable enough.

“Do you want a cup of coffee while we sit?” she asks, plucking her own thermos from behind the desk.

“God, no,” I say, scrunching my nose at the thought of the complimentary sludge they serve here. “No offense, but your coffee selection is disgusting.”

“Don’t I know it,” she says as she sinks down next to me, our thighs touching. “Why do you think I brought my own from home?”

Her question makes me laugh, and I can’t help but drape an arm around her shoulders. We spend the next few hours like that, talking about all the places she’d like to visit. And, as she tells me about her wanderlust dreams, I realize that I can’t leave without her. I don’t know how, but I’m going to make her mine – for the rest of our lives.

Chapter Six

Fiona

I wake up with a knot in my stomach, the memory of last night hitting me all at once. Noah. The break room. The kiss that turned into something so much more. My face flushes as I sit up in bed, staring at the ceiling like maybe if I don’t move, I won’t have to deal with what happened.

I should regret it. Any sane girl would, right? I mean, I’m twenty-one years old, and I let some gruff, older biker be my first real experience. My first kiss, my first…

A blush rushes up my neck as I think about his mouth on me and the way his hands felt on my body. I did all of that with him and in the back of a dingy break room, no less.Real classy, Fiona. But as much as I try to convince myself I feel ashamed or embarrassed, I just don’t.

Instead, there’s this electric thrill running through me, a feeling like I’ve finally done something bold, something exciting. For the first time since my mom got sick and everything went to shit, I feel alive. Free.

I promised her, didn’t I? I told her before she passed that I’d live. That I wouldn’t just waste away in this small town, becoming another nameless face who never did anything but punch a clock and go home to an empty house. Mom had bigdreams for me, and when she knew her time was running out, she made me swear I’d follow mine too.

Now, I doubt getting eaten out by a stranger in the back of a motel was exactly what she had in mind when she said, “Live a little.”

Still, something about Noah makes me feel more than I’ve ever felt before. It’s not just the thrill of being with someone so different from the guys around here—it’s the way he looks at me, like he sees me.Reallysees me. And for someone who’s spent the last few years hiding, trying to keep her head down while the world moved on, that feeling is addictive.

But here’s the thing. Noah said his bike’s only down for a week. That’s it. A week. So that means I’ve got, what? A few more days of his company, if I’m lucky? Then he’ll be gone, back on the road, leaving me behind like he probably leaves everyone behind. And I’ll just be another memory, another stop along the way for him.

I pull the covers up over my head, groaning into the pillow. This is so stupid. I’m getting way too attached, way too fast. I barely know him, and I’m already falling for him. Hard.

The thought makes my chest tighten, and before I know it, I’m reaching for my phone. I can’t go into work today. I need a break, some time to think. Maybe if I take a step back, put some distance between me and Noah, I can figure out what the hell I’m doing.

I text my boss, telling him I’m calling out sick. It’s not entirely a lie—I feel sick, just not the kind that has anything to do with a fever. More like a heartache waiting to happen.

I sit there for a few minutes, staring at the message, wondering if it’ll actually help. Maybe it’s better if I just don’t see him today. Maybe that’ll make things easier.

But I already know that’s a lie. Not seeing him today is going to make me miss him more, not less.

Before I can wallow in my own thoughts for too long, my phone buzzes. It’s Jeannie, my best friend since forever. She’s the only person in town who knows me as more than “the girl whose mom died.” And thank God for that, because I couldn’t take any more pity stares or awkward conversations about “how I’m holding up.”

Jeannie: Bar tonight? I’ll pick you up at 8. Don’t even think about saying no.

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