Falling For The Biker: The Vice President's Girl Chapter 44

Wren

Am I even surprised? No.

But am I pissed? Absolutely.

Why? I have no idea.

I roll my eyes at Ezra and snatch up a can of soda from a nearby table, walking away from the crowd. I'm pretty sure it belongs to someone, but it's still unopened.

Arriving at the garage, I'm surrounded by rows of Harley's, and other bike types. Somehow, I spot Ezra's bike and I walk over to it, remembering how slowly he rode out after the initiation ritual.

And how he didn't return immediately.

I'd had half a mind to look for him, but Ray was missing too so they were obviously together.

It's the second time I've witnessed him in pain, and for all his arrogance, it still does something to me, tugging at my heart.

The cold soda rolls down my throat as I take a sip, sitting on his bike. My thoughts are blank, lungs expanding to take in the chill air.

Until I hear soft footsteps.

Ezra walks into the garage, and spots me immediately. He strides over.

"Birdie." He smiles, lifting my chin and looking into my eyes.

I jerk my head. His hand falls off, and he pockets it.

"Please, go back to Brittany," I huff, taking another sip of the soda.

He snorts. "So you're the one that took Quincy's soda. She's nearly in tears."

"No!" My jaw drops, gut twisting. "You're joking."

"I'm not. You took a pregnant woman's drink, how cruel."

I shove him lightly. "Stop it. I already feel so bad."

"You should."

My lips twist and I stare at the drink in my hand, guilt gnawing on my insides. "Does she still need it? Can I take it to her? There's still some left."

He takes the can from me and drinks it all, tossing it to the floor.

I blink, frowning. "Why would you do that?"

"Ray promised her another drink," he replies with a shrug. "They've gone home. He asked me to tell you they're leaving."

"So you had to drink the rest?"

"You wanted to return it."

My lips press together. "Why are you here, Ezra? Got bored of Brittany and decided to get on my nerves instead?"

His lips lift. "This is the second time you're mentioning Brittany. If you ask me, I'll say you sound jealous."

"Jealous? Pfft," I scoff. "Leave me alone."

"You know I won't do that," he murmurs, placing a hand on waist as he leans closer.

His scent wraps around my lungs, cool, fresh, and intoxicating.

I breathe deeply, my resolve crumbling. "I saw you limp. You were in pain...earlier."

His hand tightens briefly on my waist, muscles tensing.

"I don't know what you're—"

"Don't," I interrupt. "Don't hide it. I've seen it before, so frankly it's a little too late to hide from me."

A low chuckle passes his lips. "You're right, you've seen me at my lowest moment."

"You still managed to look tough while at it, so nothing to be worried about."

He snuffs a laugh, brushing my neck. "That definitely helps. By the way, did you add more make-up to the hickey?"

"Yes." I bat his hand away. "Quincy saw it! Do you understand how risky that is?"

He goes quiet, lip tucked between his teeth. His stare is molten, intense, and then he speaks.

"Is it crazy if I say I don't care?"

The breath leaves me in a whoosh. "W-what?"

"I..." he pauses, resting his forehead against mine. "Something crazy happened tonight."

I swallow thickly. "What happened?"

"When I danced with Brittany—" My spine stiffens. Large palms stroke my arms, and waist, soothing me. "I—fuck, how do I say this without sounding like some wimp?"

I fist his vest. "The suspense is messing with my head, Ezra. Out with it."

"Okay." He snorts. "I didn't get hard while we danced, but when I saw you glaring at me..." he lifts my chin, "fuck, birdie, you have no idea what you do to me. I was hard as a fucking rock—still am."

"Oh." My stomach clenches, warmth settling as butterflies flutter.

"So there's no need to be jealous of Brittany." He strokes my jaw. "For what it's worth, I didn't want to."

I guess it's a little relieving to hear.

His breath fans my face, lips brushing mine. His face is torn, wrecked, and god, those eyes...they nearly do me in, swirling with both want and control.

Almost like he doesn't want to like this the way he does.

"I don't want this," he rasps suddenly, admitting to the thoughts I had. "We can't be doing this, Wren. But I don't think I have much restraint anymore."

My heart pounds, and when I raise my hands to his chest, I find his heart racing equally as hard as mine.

"I don't either," I reply, voice barely audible.

He chuckles low. "You never had one, Birdie."

"Sh-shut up."

"You're a fucking temptress, seducing me with those eyes and this gorgeous body."

He yanks me closer, and I gasp. His hands grip my waist so tight I feel it in my core. My lips tingle from his long, heated stare on them.

"Are you going to kiss me, now?" I squeak, spreading my legs.

He steps closer, body heat seeping into my bones, gossbumps rising.

"I shouldn't though," he murmurs, brushing my lips with his thumb. "But I need to. I've been thinking of you all night, thinking of this soft mouth."

My throat thickens. "M-me too. I've been thinking of you all night, and I think since we want each other like this...m-maybe no one has to know."

He freezes, eyes narrowed. "What are you saying right now, Wren?"

"I'm suggesting," I emphasize, sinking my fingers in his hair. He groans. "Maybe we can keep doing this...secretly. It's obvious it can't be a one time thing."

"Birdie," he chokes out, pained. "Jesus, can't believe I'm even considering this."

I lean in and brush our lips together. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"Ray could find out."

"We'll be careful, I promise."

Searching his eyes. I catch the moment he gives in. His chest expands on a deep inhale.

My lips lift. "Kiss me, Ezra. Take me."

I tug his hair. He hisses, pinching his eyes shut.

"God, Wren," he rasps. "I'm going to hell."

And he kisses me. His mouth smashes against mine, and we both exhale in relief.

We've been starved of each other, fighting our desires and now, one taste and we're almost crazed.

His tongue pistons in and out of my lips, and I meet up with his pace, pushing my hands under his shirt.

He tenses but relaxes immediately, hands roaming my body with a fire that burns deep inside of me.

When he rips his lips from me, he latches onto the other side of my neck, hands squeezing my waist and trailing down my thighs.

"Oh god," I sigh, tilting my neck some more as he sucks, bites and nips.

My nails drag across his back and he steps back, sinking to his knees in front of me.

A thick lump settles in my throat at the sight of this big man, on his knees...for me. My stomach tightens, mouth parting.

His hooded gaze settles on me, and he squeezes my thighs. "May I?"