Page 5 of Sold to the Biker

I take it, feeling the warmth of the mug seep into my palms. He moves to sit in the chair by the bed, and I notice the box still in his hands. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes, those intense blue eyes, never leave mine.

He leans forward slightly and places the box on my lap, his voice dropping to a softer, almost intimate tone. “Happy birthday, Leah.”

I blink at him, completely taken aback. How… how does he know?

My heart races, but curiosity overcomes my shock. I glance at him again, and without thinking, my fingers begin to untie the ribbon around the box. Slowly, I lift the lid, revealing a delicate music box inside. It’s intricately designed, the kind of thing that would be considered an antique, with carved roses on the lid. Ican’t help the sharp intake of breath when I wind the tiny key on its side and hear the first notes of the tune.

That song... the one Mama used to play for me when I was little. I haven’t heard it in years, but it’s woven into every corner of my memories. As the melody fills the room, my throat tightens, and my eyes sting with unshed tears.

“H-how do you…?” I stammer, unable to finish the question. It’s not a coincidence. It can’t be. He knows my birthday. He knows this song. My mind swirls with suspicion, confusion, and something else I can’t quite name.

“I ran a background check,” he replies quietly, his eyes never leaving mine.

I shake my head slowly, grappling to gather my scattered thoughts. “For my birthday, that's understandable, but the song… it's personal.”

He shrugs, his expression revealing nothing. “Just a wild guess?”

I blink at him, trying to wrap my head around his words, he leans in and reaches out to graze his thumb over my chin. “You've got uh– a bit of chocolate right here.”

I freeze, instantly losing my trail of thoughts. Don watches me closely, his gaze soft yet unwavering as he gently slides his thumb over my skin. I can barely breathe. The feel of his skin against mine sends sparks igniting in my chest, sending a shockwave of heat through my entire body.

My breath hitches, and I swear the room feels smaller, the air thicker. Before I can even process what's happening, his touchlingers, his thumb gliding just over the edge of my mouth, and something shifts in the air between us.

I see it in his eyes—a deep hunger. It's not sudden. I've seen glimpses of it all evening, that startling intensity that I've been trying to decipher. But I feel it now…The desire radiating off him is unmistakable, pulling me in like gravity. Every inch of me is buzzing with a need I didn't know existed until this very moment. His gaze darkens, and I know. I know what's about to happen before he even moves.

He leans in, his breath fanning over my lips, and I'm frozen in place, my heart thundering in my chest. Gently, he pries the mug of hot chocolate from my hand and places it on the bedside, his eyes never leaving mine. His mouth finally claims mine, and everything else seems to blur into oblivion. The kiss is hard, yet gentle, possessive, yet careful. It's everything I never knew I wanted, everything I've been unknowingly aching for.

Heat floods my body as his lips mold against mine, his hand cupping the side of my face, pulling me closer, deeper into the kiss. I can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything but feel. My fingers curl into his shirt, and I lose myself in him, the taste of him, the warmth of his body, the way his hand tangles in my hair as he angles my head, deepening the kiss. It's my first kiss, but nothing about it feels awkward or new. It's raw and wild, and so, so right. His mouth moves over mine, coaxing, claiming, and every touch sends a wave of pleasure coursing through me. My body melts into his, needing more, craving the fire that he's ignited within me.

Suddenly, he pulls back, breaking the kiss. I blink up at him, breathless, my heart pounding in my chest. A small sound escapes my lips, a protest, and his eyes darken further. "Leah,"he growls, his voice rough with restraint, "if we keep going, I can't promise I'll be able to stop."

I can see it-the raw desire burning in his eyes, the way his hands tighten around me, the tension in his body as he fights for control. He's holding back, but I don't want him to. I don't want him to stop. Without thinking, my hand moves to his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. His breath hitches as I close the distance between us again, my lips brushing against his.

"Don't stop," I whisper, my voice shaky but filled with certainty. "I want you."

For a moment, he looks like he's battling with himself, but then something snaps. His mouth crashes into mine again, harder this time, more urgent, more desperate. He grips my waist, pulling me against him as his tongue parts my lips, exploring, tasting. My body reacts instantly, heat pooling low in my belly as I kiss him back with everything I have. His hands are everywhere-on my back, my waist, sliding down to my hips as he lifts me, pulling me into his lap, and I wrap my legs around him instinctively, pressing closer, needing to feel every inch of him. The way he touches me, the way his lips devour mine-it's overwhelming, intoxicating, and I don't want it to end. His hand slides up my spine, tangling in my hair as his other hand grips my thigh, holding me in place as our kiss deepens, growing more frantic, more heated. I feel like I'm burning from the inside out, my body aching for more, needing more.

He breaks the kiss again, his forehead resting against mine as he pants, his breath hot and ragged. "Leah," he groans, his voice thick with desire. "You make me lose control."

The way he says it, the way his hands tremble slightly as they hold me, sends a thrill through me. I want to be the one who makes him lose control. I want to be the one who breaks through that careful restraint.

Santa must be real, because this-this moment, this man-is the perfect gift.

I lean forward again, until my lips brush against his and I murmur in a shaky voice, "Please, don't stop…"

Chapter Four

Don

The moment Leah’s lips touch mine again, something snaps inside me. Every ounce of control I thought I had is suddenly dangling by a thread, dangerously close to breaking. Her innocence is palpable, yet there’s no mistaking the way she’s responding, the way her body presses against mine, soft and warm. It takes every bit of willpower I have not to completely lose myself in her.

Her hands grip the front of my shirt, pulling me closer, and I feel her hesitation melt away, replaced by something deeper, more instinctual. It stirs something fierce in me, something primal, but I remind myself she’s fragile. This is her first time. I need to take it slow, no matter how badly I want to give in.

I trail my hand from her cheek down to her neck, feeling her shiver under my touch. Her skin is so soft, so perfect, like she was crafted just for me. My fingers graze the chain of the necklace she’s wearing—*my* necklace. Of course, she doesn't know it's mine. Not yet, at least. Seeing it on her, knowing it’s been close to her heart all this time, ignites something inside me I didn’t think was possible. It’s like a part of me has been with her all along.

I pull back, just enough to look at her. Her eyes are half-lidded, her lips slightly parted, flushed from our kiss. She’s breathtaking, and for a second, all I can do is stare, unable to believe she’s here with me. That I’m the one touching her. The one she wants.

“You sure about this, sunshine?” My voice is rougher than I intend, but the need to hear her say it, to know she’s ready, is stronger than my pride.