Falling For The Biker: The Vice President's Girl Chapter 72

Wren

"Do you think Mitch will come back?" I ask Ezra, legs swinging from the kitchen island with a lollipop in my mouth.

He shrugs. "We hope not. Last we checked, he went back to his town."

"What of...Hannah?" My voice drops lower. "Will you ever take her to meet her dad...or mom?"

He places the last of our plates on the rack and turns to me.

"Honestly? I don't know. I haven't seen Pete since the accident, but from what Mitch said...he's, more or less, gone. And I don't know where Diane is." Ezra settles between my thighs. "What do you think?"

My brain scrambles for a bit, utterly caught off guard that he's asking for my opinion.

Sinking my fingers through his hair, I play with the soft strands. "I think after a while when Mitch—and you—are calm, you could reach out to him about it. Then, hear what he has to say."

"He's just gonna say I took Hannah from them too, he'll pick a fight over it," he groans.

"Or the fact that he has a niece will soften him up? You don't have to think about it now though, give it some time. We have more pressing issues..."

"Like Reggie—and Calvin."

"Calvin?" I frown. "The big, bald-headed man that always seems to find me?"

Ezra's eyes harden. "Yes. He's been selling drugs on our turf."

"Oh!" My eyes widen. "That's why he hates you guys so much. You're bad for his business."

"Exactly. I know some of our men take them—"

"Do you?"

He chuckles. "Nah. I stick to cigerettes or cigars. Who knows what they mix in those things these days?"

"That's good," I say, kissing his forehead for emphasis.

He laughs, sliding his hands inside my—his—shirt, and runs them up and down my waist.

"Anyway, we have to protect the young guys we have. Can't expose them to those things at their age. The grownups can do whatever they want."

"So, that's why they came here that one night, guns blaring. I thought it was something serious."

"It is serious, Wren." He gives me a small pinch.

"Hey!"

Soothing the sore spot, he continues. "A biker gang selling drugs on another MC's turf? That's literally an attack on us and blatant disrespect."

"What are you going to do then?"

"Ray has given him a lot of warnings, but first things first...Reggie."

A deep sigh falls from my lips.

Ezra was right, Tristan did have skeletons in his closet. Wouldn't have believed or thought for one second that he was part of a biker gang.

It made me understand the nights he couldn't stay over, the secret phone calls, the fact that I never knew his family.

At the time, it was normal because it never looked like he was being secretive. Now, I know better.

"Any plans?"

Yesterday, Ezra had told me about Ray's plans to guard the house, of course I didn't like it. Not like I have a choice.

He nods. "I'm not supposed to tell you, but we're just waiting for him to strike first—if he will."

"Do you think—"

"Okay baby," he taps my thighs. "That's enough question and answer. I've watched you suck on that lollipop..."

"Brittany sent in her letter, said she's leaving."

He groans, long and loud like whiny little kid. "Ray approved it. Now, can I get a kiss?!"

I giggle. "One more quest—"

His smiling lips come down on mine, and I can't help but giggle some more.

"You're so silly," he teases, going in for a proper kiss.

Finally, I return it. He hums in my mouth, gripping my waist, and sliding me closer to his torso.

We kiss in a slow, languid place. Lips intertwined, gliding and exploring.

He moves further up beneath my shirt, and palms my breasts. The sudden touch sends a shiver through my spine, lower belly clenching.

I moan, tugging his hair and trailing down to the stubble on his jaw.

These past few days have been such a high for both of us. Can't remember the last time I wore my own clothes, or slept in my own room.

I've been living and breathing this man, and, I most definitely, have no complains.

When he slides my shirt off, I do the same to him, tracing every muscle, every tattoo, every piece of hot, hard skin on his body.

No one speaks, all we do is feel. His hands on my breasts, one trailing down to my underwear.

Liquid warmth spills out of me when he grazes the waist band. His lips move to my neck, sucking and biting.

I sigh, my neck tilts on his own to give him more access and I reach down to his joggers, needing him right now.

When I touch him, he hisses, his hard length jerking and pushing into my hands.

Saliva pools in my mouth, tongue heavy.

"I want..." I pause, breath heavy.

A blush coats my cheeks at the words I'm about to speak.

He pushes away slightly, lips red and slightly swollen, eyes glazed.

"Are you okay?" He cups my jaw, searching my eyes.

Tucking my lip between my teeth, I nod.

"I want to...g-go down on you."

I'm as red as a tomato.

He inhales sharply, eyes darkening until they're nearly black.

The words seem to suck the air out of the room, and it's then my pulse quickens.

"You want to suck my cock," he rephrases, humour and desire laces his tone.

If I could get any redder, I would.

I huff. "You just had to be crass."

He chuckles, low, dark. Then, he kisses me again. This time harder as he picks me up, cupping my ass firmly.

We stay in the position, my ankles crossed behind and my arms around his neck.

And god, we kiss.

We kiss until I sink to my knees, yank his joggers down and take out his very thick, very long dick.

He looks down at me, licking his lips and rolling it between his teeth.

The head is engorged, pre cum dripping down his length. Hes so hard it almost looks painful.

"Are you going to suck or stare, Birdie?"

I raise a brow. "Suck."

Wiithout any warning, I swallow him in one go, all the way to the back of my throat. The salty, tangy taste of him hits my tongue, and I hum.

"Oh, f-fuuuuccck!!" He chokes out, grappling for the edge of the counter when his knees buckle. "You're gonna fucking kill me, fuck!"

Taking him out with a loud pop, I grin. "Do you know you cuss a lot when you're horny?"

"Are we really gonna chit chat about my cussing habits while you're on your knees?"

I laugh. "Maybe?"

He huffs a laugh.

Wrapping my hair around one wrist, with his other hand, he guides his cock between my lips.

"Open, baby." His voice is hoarse, thick with lust.

The moment I do though, his ringtone blares out from the kitchen counter.

"Who the fuck is this?" He grunts, punching a button on the phone. The ringing stops.

Just as we go to continue, a small voice rings out.

"Hi daddy...we can't see you."

My heart jumps.

We both freeze, eyes wide because we know that tiny voice.

"Baby, thats Hannah!" I whisper-yell.

"Fuck!" He swears, tucking himself back in his joggers, and he throws my shirt to me.

I press my lips together, hiding the giggle that's threatening to erupt.

"Daddy?" Hannah calls again. "Where are you and aunt Wren?"

"Uncle EJ!!! Where are youuuuu?!!" Noah's scream cuts in.

And I can't help it, I burst into laughter.

When Ezra glowers at me with his shirt inside out, it only makes it worse.

I fall on my ass, struggling to wear my shirt through fits of laughter.

"Hi, baby girl," Ezra picks up the phone.

"I heard aunt Wren laughing, where is she? And do you know you're wearing your shirt wrong, daddy?"

"Yes," Noah agrees. "Tell aunt Wren to help you next time."

That does it.

I completely, and unapologetically lose it.