Falling For The Biker: The Vice President's Girl Chapter 22

Wren

My hands drop from his hair.

He's so close, pressed up against me. If I spread my thighs a little more.... Something inaudible squeaks past my lips.

"Yea?" He rasps, tongue poking out. The ring glistens, teasing me. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"What?"

"Me pounding into you from behind." He leans down, breath teasing my ear as he murmurs. "Your legs over my shoulder while I taste you."

"Ezra..." My cheeks heat, nipples hardening.

The images that slide through my brain are as filthy as his words, dirty. My core pulses, wetness seeping out until my panties are damp.

"God, you're stunning." His hand brushes my cheek, thumb tugging on my bottom lip.

He licks his lips, biting down at the corner. His hair falls over his face, hiding the eyes that are zoned on my mouth.

"Maybe I should take you up on that request."

"W-what request?"

He drags his eyes up to mine. "The kiss request."

Goosebumps prickle across my skin.

Yes, please.

I wet my lips, my tongue swiping at his thumb by mistake.

His eyes darken with a hunger, and a desire so blatant it scares me...but at the same time, it sends a thrill up my spine.

My thighs spread on their own, and Ezra settles firmly between mine. His length teases at my opening.

I gasp at the contact that feels too real.

Glancing down, I see my skirt has ridden up a bit. Ezra looks down at my bare legs, and almost bare thighs, the red of my panties peeking out.

"Fuck," he groans, ripping his eyes away and back to me. "Don't tease me like that, birdie.

His arms are corded tight like he's restraining himself, jaw set.

"Are y-you going to kiss me?" My heart pounds in my chest as I ask the question.

He shakes his head. "Your brother's gonna kill me, Wren. I can't take that risk."

He rolls off me, a hand over his eyes. His shirt rides up, exposing a glimpse of his tattoos and the deep 'V' that leads to many fantasies I've imagined as a teen.

"P-ple—" I catch the words before they're out of my lips, eyes widening at the realization I was just about to beg.

Jesus, I need to get laid.

I've officially lost it.

I jump out of his bed, chest heaving like I'd just ran a marathon.

Ezra sits up, a pillow over his lap.

"I'm sorry, Wren." He clears his throat, running a hand through his hair—the same soft locks I had in my hands a few moments ago.

"It's-it's fine," I croak.

Heat crawls up my body, and I rub my sweaty palms on my dress.

"Your brother would cut my balls and feed it to me."

He's not wrong.

"Yea." I nod, stretching my palm out. "My phone, please."

The door barges open at that moment, and I turn to it. My heart stutters as Ray walks in.

"Glad to see you haven't killed each other," he smiles.

Ezra's mask slips into place, a smug look on his face. "Almost, Ray. Your sister threatened to turn me to the police."

He hands me my phone and I snatch it, yanking a little too hard.

"See what I'm talking about?" Ezra chuckles.

"Nah." Ray shakes his head, ruffling my hair. "She wouldn't."

I grip the phone tight, staring at Ezra. "This is your only pass. I won't be so nice next time."

He stands, saluting me. "Noted, Miss ma'am."

"I'm sorry about Tristan though, Wren," Ray apologizes. "I know you wanted to marry him."

"Like you're not ecstatic that he's dead. Just like Ezra is."

He presses his lips together. "I'm not going to lie, I don't like the piece of shit. But I'm not ecstatic that you're hurting."

I'm not hurting. But I should be.

My hand goes to rub at my ring, but it isn't there.

"Yeah." Ezra flicks down to my hand, brows raised. "Me neither."

He places a stick of cigarettes between his lips, and grabs a lighter from his kutte.

"Since when do you smoke?" I blurt, frowning.

He shrugs. "If you'll both excuse me, I need a smoke."

I'm left with Ray in Ezra's room, surrounded by his scent and the memories of the last few minutes.

"You good, Chirp?" Ray's voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

I drag my eyes away from the bed. "I don't know. Those men will come for Ezra. Who even are they?"

"Kendall is working on it," he replies. "Though, we suspect they're into something."

Right, Kendall the snitch—according to Ezra. I'd seen him so bandaged up, he looked like a mummy, before Ezra and I visited his bar.

"Like what?"

"A cult. Or a gang."

I frown. "Tristan wasn't a gangster, and neither was he a part of a motorcycle club."

"Maybe," Tristan says, "—maybe not. But regular people would call the cops on us...they didn't."

Pondering over his words, I agree. "That's true. Who the hell did I get involved with?"

"We're going to find out, Wren." He stares into my eyes. "I promise you."

But the thing is... do I really want to know?

"Thank you, Ray," I mumble.

He gives me a small smile and hooks his arm over my neck, gently walking me out of Ezra's room.

"Would you want to come over? Spend a night with Quincy?"

We get back downstairs, the ceiling still remains destroyed.

"Nah." I shake my head. "I have two targets on my back now, Ray. I don't think it's a good idea."

He sighs, going quiet. "Maybe I'll bring her around?"

"That's not a good idea, and you know it."

His groan is low, and frustrated. "Sometimes I regret making you come back."

"Ezra said it was only a matter of time."

We step into the yard, strolling.

"He's right." Ray nods. "It's easier to keep an eye out on you here."

Same thing Ezra said. They really are best friends, aren't they?

"Don't worry about me, Ray." I smile. "You handed me to Ezra. You, take care of Quincy and the baby in her belly."

"Are you guys buddies now?" He raises a brow.

A short laugh bursts from my lips. "Ezra and I? Buddies? Hell would have to freeze over."

"That might be sooner than you think, Birdie." Ezra's voice cuts in.

I yelp, jumping slightly from fright. "Jeez, what's wrong with you?"

He leans by the wall, one leg propped on it, and the over-head canopy hiding him only slightly. Smoke billows past his lips, his hair falling over his eyes as usual.

He looks so hot, sexy...every delicious inch of the bad boy he is.

Ezra shrugs. "Do I look like I have a problem?"

"Have you seen yourself in the mir—" My phone blares, interrupting my comeback.

I push it in Ray's face. "Who is it?

"Judi?" He replies, more like a question.

A wide smile crosses my lips and I answer the call.

"Hi, Judi!"

"Wren! Guess what?" She squeals.

"What?"

"So, it's only for a short while, like days, buuuut..." she drawls, her tone high-pitched and filled with excitement.

"Oh god, just tell me!" I squeal back.

Ray and Ezra raise concerned brows at me, but I ignore them.

"I'm coming to New Orleans!"