Chapter 4
Sean
Gina’s lips are as soft as I remember, her kisses as tender. There’s a lot of heart in that woman, and she kisses with a passion that drives me nuts.
It's obvious that there’s something still between us that she’s denying. Did I really hurt her so much that she can’t even stand to be in a room with me for more than a few minutes?
I hated to leave the way I did seven years ago. But she has to understand that there was nothing else I could do.
If I could have taken her with me, I would have, but it was too dangerous. I thought she’d understand. I thought she might have forgiven me, but she obviously hasn’t.
It just means I have to work all the harder to win her over.
I slip the bobby pin out of my pocket and chuck it in the trash. Yeah, I picked the lock. She was right about that. But I wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to get a sneak peek of the woman I love in the shower. I’ve fantasized about that exact scenario too many times.
There’s a painful ache in my cock, and I adjust my trousers. It’s not going to get any better while the image of Gina in a towel is emblazoned in my mind.
She’s a hell of a woman. She's filled out and it suits her, although I think it’s mostly the way she’s unapologetic about her size. Her confidence is sexy as hell. Always was, still is.
But it’s not just her body I want. It’s Gina’s heart that I need to win over.
If I know my girl, she'll be angry with herself for letting me kiss her, even though I could tell it was exactly what she wanted.
I grab my bike and head out along the coast. It's a short drive to Gina's house, but I have business with her plumber. I slip him a brown envelope full of with cash and check that the pipe he broke isn’t doing any real damage.
Yeah, that was me too. I have to keep her close to me a little longer.
It’s a little cocky, but I’ve never shied away from being cocky to get what I want. And Gina is the only thing I want.
The plumber bought me some time with Gina. Now I have to make the most of it.
A few hours later, I'm back at the clubhouse.
I find Gina in the office, a spreadsheet open on the computer. She manages the admin side of the club now, and I feel a surge of pride for her.
I knock quietly on the door.
“I bought you a peace offering.” I hold up a brown paper bag, and Gina narrows her eyes suspiciously.
“I won't try to kiss you again. I promise.”
I'm pleased to see a flicker of disappointment cross her face.
“And not walk in on me in the shower. Can you promise me that?”
“I’ll try my best, but you really should lock the doors.”
She looks at me sharply as if she knows I’m lying about the door, but I give her a grin and hold out the bag.
“Are cinnamon donuts still your favorite?”
Her smile tells me all I need to know. She opens the bag and closes her eyes as the smell of baked cinnamon wafts out.
“Still my favorite.”
Her moan when she bites into one sends my blood heading south, but she seems to have no idea how she’s affecting me.
“What are you doing this afternoon?”
She looks at me like I’m stupid. “Working.”
“Bruno said you can have the afternoon off.”
She folds her arms across her chest and eyes me warily. “Did he now?”
“Yeah, said he wants you to go on a ride with me. Thinks you need some fresh air.”
I’m bullshitting, and she knows it. But she tilts her head back and laughs.
“You’re such a liar, Sean.”
I laugh with her, because it feels so fucking good.
“Let’s get away from this place, Gina. For a few hours, just you and me, somewhere where we can talk.”
“We’ve got nothing to talk about, Sean. It’s in the past.”
“I want to explain. Clear the air about what happened.”
She hesitates, and I can tell I’m getting through to her. Her good nature is winning out over her misgivings about me.
“Give me a couple of hours, and then I’ll never bother you again if that’s what you want.”
She stands up with a sigh.”
“All right, Sean. You’ve got an hour.”
I try not to grin like a maniac. I’ve got an hour to convince Gina not to hate me.
My Fat Boy’s parked out front. It was the first thing I bought when I got back to the States. Gina smiles when she sees it.
“Still like Harleys.”
“Always.”
I hand her a helmet, and she slides on behind me.
“You better put your arms around me, love.”
“I’ll hold on to the seat.”
She always was a stubborn one. But at least she’s on the back of my bike, where she belongs.
We pull out of the club complex and onto the ocean road.
With the salt wind whipping at my face and Gina’s warm body pressed behind me, I feel happy for the first time in seven years.