Falling For The Biker: The Vice President's Girl Chapter 26

Wren

"Ezra," I croak, his hands slide up and down my thighs. "I don't think we should—"

"I'm not doing anything to you, Birdie," he rasps with a chuckle. "I asked you a question."

We both watch his fingers as they trail up my skin in featherlight touches, as if they were only whispering, teasing at the things they could do to me.

God, did I want to find out.

"You can't ask me things like that," I reply, clearing my throat but it doesn't help.

"Mhm," he hums, tracing the hem of my dress. "This dress...I'm dying to know what's beneath."

My heart thuds painfully in my chest, toes curling. "Are you drunk?"

Ezra smirks, raising his eyes up to my face. "Do I look drunk?"

"No, but you sound drunk."

"You smell good." He rubs his nose against my neck, then he pushes back. "Do you want to go back to Mr. Blonde?"

"Oh god, yes," someone moans, interrupting my response, the source sounding too close.

Ezra wraps a hand on my throat. My eyes dilate, arousal floods my panties, and I struggle to keep my eyes open.

"Don't look," he mutters over my lips, eyes looking past my shoulders. "But I can tell you what they're doing."

My tongue darts out to swipe my lips. "W-why can't I look?"

His eyes meet mine. "Because I want to tell you. I want to see the desire in your eyes, watch the exact moment your nipples harden...god, you look so beautiful like this."

My core pulses, eyes fluttering close.

"Open those eyes, birdie."

I obey.

I realize late the position we're in. I'm almost laid out on the couch, while Ezra is almost on top of me.

Another moan echoes, this one a little louder than the last. The slick sound of squelching wetness softly follows.

I want to look, but Ezra's hands on my throat stops me.

"Do you want to know what they're doing?" He whispers.

I should say no. I should grab my purse and high-tail it out of here.

Instead, I nod, like the sex-starved woman I am under Ezra's spell.

He looks across my shoulder again, and begins to speak. "She's sitting spread-eagle on his lap, her back to his chest..."

"Th-that means she's facing us?"

"Yes." His gaze cuts to mine. "They're exhibitionists. He's touching her, his fingers sinking into her folds."

My lips part, core aching. I press my thighs together, he notices. His hand goes back to teasing the hem of my gown which has ridden up.

"He has two fingers in, and his other hand caresses her breasts, tugging on her nipples. Fuck," he swears, eyes shutting briefly. "I can only picture you like that."

He adjusts himself, and I look down, disappointed that the dim light hides him.

"Oh," I raps, unsure what to say or if I should say anything at all. I don't want this moment to end.

"What's the colour of your panties?" Ezra asks suddenly, trailing his hands firmly over my thighs.

My brain scrambles and I shake my head. "I-I don't remember."

I can't even think at the moment. Ezra consumes me. His scent, his touch, his voice...I'm an aching mess. I need him.

His lips twitch, darkened eyes swimming with humour. "Can I find out?"

My heart stops, thighs pressing firmly together and the slickness between them shows me just how turned on I am.

"Urm..." I try to take deep breaths. "I-I guess you can take a peek."

He smiles.

What I expected was for him to lift my dress slightly and take a peek.

But what I didn't expect was Ezra slipping his hands into my dress and tugging my panties.

"Up," he encourages. And like the desperate woman that I am, I raise my bum.

He slides the panties down, lifting my legs to remove them completely.

Heat crawls up my neck and cheeks, and I stare wide-eyed in both shock and desire.

"You were supposed to take a peek," I whisper.

"You know I never do what you expect." He shrugs, raising my panties to the light. "Green. Lace."

He fists them, and his lips part. "Fuck baby, these are damp." He leans in further, voice dropping lower. "You're soaked, aren't you? Nearly dripping."

Without my panties, I am definitely dripping.

Cool air teases my thighs and core. I cross my legs, shuddering at the tingle that runs up my spine.

"Can I touch you?" He asks, pocketing my panties. His hands skim my arms, and thighs, slipping slightly between them.

My mouth parts on a soundless gasp. "Ezra..."

His eyes burn with hunger, unbridled lust. The intensity would knock me off my feet if I wasn't sitting.

"Say yes, birdie. I need to know how you feel," he groans, "...how you taste. Can I touch you?"

Warm calloused hands trace my jaw, our breaths mingle together while the soft sounds of sex mixed with music, and the scent of smoke makes my body very aware.

"Yes," I murmur. The hairs on my body stand as soon as the words are out of my lips.

Ezra smiles. It's encouraging, but filled with promise, an assurance of a good time.

His palms slide up my thighs, disappearing beneath my dress. My breath hitches.

"Are you sure?"

I nod once, my legs shaking even without being touched...yet.

"Spread your legs for me, baby," he whispers, rubbing soothing circles on my skin.

I look around, feeling self-conscious.

"People are going to see—"

"They have too much sense to do that." His lips press into a thin line. " Anyone that dares to look in this direction will have their eyes forked out."

He shrugs off his jacket. "But just to make you feel comfortable...here," he throws it over my thighs. "Better?"

The leather jacket is cool on my skin.

"Y-yea." My voice cracks.

This is crazy. I can't believe I'm going to let him touch me, but god, I need him to.

As his hands gently nudge my legs apart, my insides flutter. More wetness trickles down my thighs, and I shiver.

I can't take my eyes off him. His lips are tucked between his teeth, gray eyes fixed on me as his fingers slip further up my thighs, swiping at the bit of slickness between.

"Fuck, Wren," he groans, pained. "Oh god."

My eyes fall close, head thrown back as I brace myself for his fingers where I desperately need them.

Just as his knuckles graze my center, he stops. My eyes pop open to find him digging his phone out of his pocket.

"It's Ray," he says.

And as if he's been doused with cold water, he backs away from me, standing to his feet as he picks the call.

The bulge in his denim is much more visible from this angle.

I clamber upright. I can't decipher the words he speaks because of the music and the rushing of blood in my ears.

Then he pushes the phone back in his pocket, and reaches for his jacket.

"W-what did he say?"

His jaw tightens. "Ray knows you're not at the clubhouse. I promised to look for you."

My heart drops.

The blankness on his face stuns me, eyes hard, as if weren't just close to making out.

"Is everything okay?" I reach for him but he shrugs out of my hold.

"Go home, Wren."

The words cut, and I stand to my feet on shaky limbs. "W-what?"

"Your brother is my best friend—"

I scoff. "You didn't remember that few seconds ago when you were begging to touch me, taste me."

His eyes flash, nostrils flaring, but it's gone before I can pin it to an emotion.

"I wasn't thinking. The drink, and smoke probably went into my head."

My jaw drops, brows raised in shock.

I shake my head. "I don't know why I keep doing this push and pull with you," I say, grabbing my bag.

I turn to leave when his voice stops me.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have...I know better."

I spin on my heels, glaring. "You know what? Fuck you, Ezra. I'm going back to the blonde, and I'll let him do to me what you couldn't."

His jaw ticks and he takes a large step toward me.

"If he so much as touches even a hair on your head, Wren, I will break every one of his fingers," he pauses. "And I'll send the recording of his screams to you."

My finger pokes him in the chest. "You will do no such thing."

"Try me, Birdie." He raises a brow. "Just try me."

"I just might."

I spin on my heels and match the hell out of there, fists clenched as fury settles in my chest.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.