Falling For The Biker: The Vice President's Girl Chapter 62

Ezra

It's been ten days since Ray almost caught Wren and I. We were lucky enough that he was immediately concerned when he noticed me on the floor.

Safe to say, I didn't make it about me. And when everyone tried to fuss over me, I warned them. Seriously.

The baby shower went well, but Wren and I...we're not talking—well, she's not talking to me, at least not properly.

I have refused to tell her what happened between Mitch and I, and so she's kept her distance.

And it is infuriating as fuck.

I haven't kissed her in ten days. Haven't touched her, haven't even had a proper conversation and it's getting on my nerves.

That four letter word still burns at the back of my mind, it's engraved itself into my brain. I can't sleep without thinking of it, I can't do anything without thinking of it.

But what of me? Where do my feelings lie?

Fuck, I already know the answer to that question. And it scares me.

Love is a luxury in my world—one I can hardly afford, not when she barely knows who I am. Not when I'm still in this gang, targets on my goddamn back.

I watch her from my bedroom window, gorgeous body treading through the pool, a tiny pair of bikini that barely covers her luscious body.

She's been swimming a lot, and she stopped showing up for our fighting practice.

And I feel...lost.

My fingers tighten on the whiskey glass, and I knock back the remaining content, slamming it on the dresser.

Like a switch, something in me snaps.

Fine!

She wants answers? She's gonna get them.

So, I march out to the pool, tug my shirt and sweats off, and I dive in.

Her head pops out a minute after, water droplets scatter across her body, the sunset casts a warm glow on her skin.

Jesus, she's beautiful. A goddamn sight.

My breath ceases briefly in my lungs, and I just stare at her, unable to fathom how she could love me, how she could want me.

She crosses her arms, glowering. "If you're in here, you better have an explanation."

My heart soars—no, it sings. I've missed her so fucking much.

"I do," I tell her, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, nipples hardened from the cold. "But first...I need you."

"No." She shakes her head, turning away from me.

"Birdie," I say softly.

She pauses.

God, when was the last time I called her that?

"Do you need me to beg? To drop to my fucking knees?"

Spinning around to face me, she replies. "I need an explanation, Ezra. That's all."

"C-can I just hold you?" If she wants me to beg, I will. Fuck, I will roll on my back for this woman. "I swear, I'll tell you about Mitch and I, but please, let me hold you."

Her lips roll between her teeth, eyes contemplating yet hesitating. "Promise me."

"You have my word, Birdie. I promise."

Yes, I'm a sucker for this woman. She's got me wrapped around her fingers, and I fucking love it.

As she wades the water toward me, my fingers itch for a photograph, my phone just inches away.

"Wait, please." I raise a finger. "Just stay like that."

Even though her lips pull into a frown, she obeys.

Rushing out of the water, I grab my phone and get back in. It doesn't take long to click a picture of her.

Her eyes narrow. "Ezra," she warns.

Click.

"Stop."

"I'm sorry but you have no idea how beautiful you look right now."

Click.

She sighs. "Seriously? Everything's a joke to you."

I drop my phone, satisfied with the few pictures I've taken alongside others I took a while back.

"I gave you my word, Wren." I raise a brow. "Come here."

With a huff, she walks into my arms and I feel whole again. We both sigh, Wren practically melting in my arms.

We've both missed this.

It's obvious in how tight we hold each other, how quiet we both are, uncaring about the cold evening air that nips at our wet skin.

"I've missed you," I mumble.

Then, her eyes lift up to mine. It feels like slow motion, her lashes fluttering, beads of water falling.

At that moment, it hits me.

I love her.

I'm in love with Wren Carlisle.

That revelation is everything.

My throat goes dry, a thick lump settling in my chest.

Ray's gonna kill me, but honestly? I don't give a fuck. I'm ready to lay my life for this woman, this utterly breathtaking, enchanting woman.

Pressing my forehead to hers, I cup her jaw. "Can..." I swallow. "Can I kiss you?"

She licks her lips, gives me a long look, and for a second I think she'll say no...but she nods.

That's all the permission I need.

I kiss her, soft, gentle. I need to savor this.

The world stops for us while we get lost in each other.

There's no rush at all. We kiss like we have all day, because we do.

When I skim her waist, she shudders in my arms, blood surging downward. But that's not what I want—at least not yet.

What I want is to take my time. So when I tug on the rope of her bikini top, it falls away, exposing her to me, and I take one hardened nub in my mouth.

A deep groan rips from my throat, I've been so starved. Little gasps fall from her lips, her hands tugging at my hair.

Picking her up, I lay her by the pool edge, crawling up her body. We both watch my tattooed hand as it disappears into her bikini bottoms.

Her lips part on a soundless moan, and when I push a digit in...the moan slips out. She lifts a knee up, pushing me deeper.

Christ.

Goosebumps prickle my skin. Her bronde hair fans out on the wet slab, night quickly falling.

Our eyes stay locked on each other, almost as if we're scared that if we close it, the moment will disappear.

I'll never let it.

I brush that spot inside of her, and she shivers.

"Ezra..." the sound is choked, her orgasm spilling out of her, coating my fingers.

Tugging aside the flimsy piece and my shorts, I settle between her thighs. And there under the darkened clouds, I make love to Wren.

I push into her, slowly, deeply. I feel every stroke, every clench of her walls, every scratch of her finger nails.

All my nerve endings are alert, on fire...because I love this woman.

Her lips rip from mine, brushing against my jaw.

"God, Ezra..." she moans, her walls squeezing me deeply as she comes, coating me completely.

She shudders violently. "I...god, I l-lov—"

I kiss her, interrupting the words I know she wants to say. At the same time, my orgasm slams into me.

Not yet, darling.

Fuck, not yet.

I slide a glass of whiskey toward Wren, and she lifts a brow.

"Why?" Her nose scrunches up.

Placing the bottle in the center of the dining table, I knock back my own drink.

"Because you're gonna need it."

She frowns. "Ezra..."

A deep breath leaves my lungs and I just stare at her, her hair in a towel atop her head, face smooth and fresh out of the shower she just had.

"It's ugly, Wren–" I sigh, "what I'm about to tell you."

When she pins those bright blue eyes on me, worry swimming in them, my stomach twists.

God, I want to high tail it out of here. I don't want to relive that night. I vowed never to.

But...Wren.

She needs to know who I am. She needs to know what I did...the life I ruined.

My jaw tightens. "This is going to change everything, Birdie."

"Like what?" She whispers.

"It's going to change how you see me."

When her hand stretches across the table to me, I jerk back, the chair creaking loudly as I push to my feet.

Her frown deepens, brows pulled low on her forehead. "What is—"

"The reason why we're having this conversation here," I interrupt, "is because I'm giving you the choice to walk out when—if— you want to."

She flicks her gaze to the door, voice breaking as she speaks. "You're scaring me."

I don't respond. My lips press together, and my jaw flexes.

Memories of that night force their way into my mind, and I speak.

"Hannah isn't my biological daughter, and Mitch...." My gaze fixes on her. "He was my president when I was in Outlaws MC."