The Biker Alpha Who Became My Second Chance Mate Chapter 88

"Ath," he whispered, my name falling from his lips like a secret meant only for my ears.

His fingers traced along my cheekbone with such tenderness that I couldn't help but release a soft, shaky breath.

The simple touch sent tiny sparks dancing across my skin and through my veins. I found myself holding my breath as his thumb moved to trace the outline of my lips.

The gentle pressure of his touch made me take a sharp intake of air. There was something magical about the way Tristan's touch affected me.

God, it did things to me I couldn't explain. It lit a fire deep inside, warming every inch of my body until I burned with want and need. My mind went blank, all rational thoughts slipping away.

Shamefully, I craved for his hands to wander lower, to the places where my body ached the most.

But just when I thought he might, when my pulse hammered in anticipation, he pulled back. His hands withdrew as his fingers raked through his dark hair in frustration, the gesture so violent that several strands fell across his forehead - his jaw clenched tight.

My eyes shot toward him immediately, confusion and disappointment warring in my chest. Was he really going to leave me like this? After igniting this fire in me?

*Wasn't it your cheeks he touched? And weren't you the one that insisted on seeing if he was serious? So why are you complaining when you made the decision that's making us both suffer?*

Ciara's voice echoed in my mind, dripping with frustration that matched my own. But I was too overwhelmed by my own emotions to bother responding to her. She was right, of course - I'm the one holding whatever was to happen between the both of us. But that didn't make the ache in my chest any less real.

"I think you should get some rest," Tristan said, his voice strained and rough around the edges. "It's been a long day and you need all the rest you can get."

I don't need to get to bed, I need you. I wanted to say so badly but I said nothing.

I just laid there on the bed, staring at him with a look and feelings I couldn't place. The distance between us felt vast and impossible to cross.

He looked as frustrated as I felt, but he stood frozen at the doorway as if approaching me would somehow break his resolve. There was something almost afraid in his posture, like he was scared of what might happen if he got too close.

Slowly, I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Slowly, I pushed myself up, my muscles protesting from the tension. I stood, my legs a bit shaky, and started toward my room door.

"Where... are you going?" he asked, and I noticed how he took an instinctive step backward, as if I might burn him.

"I wanted to follow you out so I could lock the door," I said quietly, uncertain whether the longing I felt was written plainly across my face for him to read.

His hands found their way back into his hair, messing with the already disheveled strands. "I need you to know I'm taking everything in me not to touch you, Ath." His confession made my breath catch in my throat, my heart hammering so hard I was sure he could hear it.

The raw honesty in his voice sent shivers down my spine. There was something vulnerable and desperate in the way he spoke, as if the words were being torn from somewhere deep inside him.

"I want to touch you in ways that would make you forget your own name," he continued, his voice thick with emotion, that made my knees weak. "I want to take away that look on your face - that hurt expression that tells me you think I'm running from you. I want to show you exactly how much I want you."

The intensity of his words made me squeeze my legs together instinctively, and even that small friction sent jolts of electricity through my body. I could barely breathe, could barely think beyond the heat building inside me.

"I'm really trying to be the man I promised myself I'll be to you. I want it to be when you're sure," he said, his voice softer now, more controlled. "When you really want me to be with you. I want to be with my mate, my woman, Ath - and I'll wait until you're ready for me to make you forget about everything but me."

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came. What could I possibly say to something so raw and honest? My breathing was so rapid and shallow that I felt like I'd just finished running a marathon. My heart was beating so fast I was afraid it might burst from my chest.

Without another word, he walked toward me. For a moment I thought he might kiss me properly, might understand these look on my face and finally give in. Instead, he pressed his lips gently against my forehead. The kiss was soft and lingering, filled with promises and restraint in equal measure.

Before I could react, before I could reach for him or say anything, he was walking out of my room.

"Come shut your door," I heard him call from the hallway.

My legs felt like jelly as I dragged myself after him. The thought that he wanted me to give him permission, to be the one to make the decision about moving forward, made my stomach flutter with what felt like a thousand butterflies taking flight all at once.

When I reached the doorway, he was standing in the hall, turned toward me. His eyes met mine and held them for what felt like an eternity. I could see the war raging behind his dark eyes - want battling with restraint, desire fighting against respect. Finally, without a word, he turned and walked away.

I closed the door and immediately pressed my back against it, my hand flying to my chest where my heart was still pounding erratically.

There was no point in questioning why I felt this way - I already knew. Tristan had always awakened something in me that I'd never felt before, something that scared and exhilarated me in equal measure.

The bond was getting stronger than my restraints, and I don't think I can fight it anymore. I didn't even want to.

.....

The next morning, I woke before my alarm, having barely slept at all.

Ciara had been relentless throughout the night, her voice a constant whisper in my mind. She reminded me over and over how Tristan had given me the perfect opportunity the night before, and how I'd let it slip through my fingers.

*You were supposed to draw him close to you,* she kept saying. *One kiss, that's all it would have taken. One simple kiss and everything would have changed.*

I knew she was right. I knew that kissing Tristan would have shattered whatever invisible barrier we'd built between us. But knowing something and having the courage to act on it were two entirely different things.