The Biker's Fate Chapter 332

He rolled his eyes, but closed the door and locked the car, before shrugging off his suit jacket and slipping it over my shoulders. "Don't want you catching a cold."

I bit my lip, unable to speak (lest I blurt out how badly I wanted to have his babies), and snuggled into the warmth. He took my hand, linking his fingers with mine, and we headed inside.

Once we hit the lobby, I handed him back his jacket and was disappointed when he didn't take my hand again.

"Poppy!"

I turned to the sound of my name and smiled as Finley Adams rushed toward me. "Oh My God, you look amazing," she exclaimed.

"So do you." I smiled, hugging her.

"Hi, Devon."

"Hey, Finley."

She focused back on me. "Did you hear what happened to Michael?"

"No, what?" I asked.

"He got jumped. I think it's why he bailed on you."

"Shut up, seriously? Is he okay?"

"I think so. But his nose got broken and his ribs are bruised. Derek said he was pretty messed up."

Derek was Finley's brother and a few years older than us.

"Oh my god, that's awful. Who did it?"

Finley shrugged. "No idea. He said he didn't see the guys."

"We should probably get inside, huh?" Devon said, and laid his hand on my back.

I didn't want to do anything that would make him remove his hand, so I nodded, and we headed into the event space. "Wow," I breathed out.

The hotel ballroom had been transformed into a starry night theme, complete with twinkling stars on the ceiling.

"Super cool, huh?" Finley said.

"Yes, it's gorgeous."

She giggled. "Well, considering we had to pay over a hundred bucks a ticket, it should be."

I smiled. "This is true."

Devon's hand left my back the second Finley led us to a table. Missing the contact of his skin on mine, I looked up at him. "Everything okay?"

His shrewd eyes scanned the crowd, especially the guys, and his features locked down with anger. "Fine," he growled.

Devon

I was gonna fuckin' kill these assholes if they kept tryin' to grind up on Poppy. Goddammit, they were relentless. It didn't help that she was smokin' hot in her blue dress. The second I got a glimpse of her, I was rock hard, and the way she looked at me, fuckin' gutted me. I knew how she felt about me. It was always written all over her face.

But I'd never go there. Couldn't go there, no matter how much I might have wanted to. She was my uncle's step-daughter and he'd made it perfectly clear she was off-limits.

But, fuck me, I wanted her. From my head, to my heart, to my dick, I ached for her, and the older she got, the worse that ache got. So much so, that despite the amount and sheer variety of pussy being offered at the club, she was in my head when I fucked another woman.

It had gotten so bad, I'd stopped going to the club unless absolutely necessary, considering I didn't want to look like a pussy turning down every woman who offered herself to me.

Poppy was the only one I wanted and since she wasn't available, my hand got a steady and regular work-out, imagining her face as I jacked off several times a day.

Fuck! I needed some relief and I needed it soon.

"Last dance, folks," the DJ said over the PA, and I was relieved this fuckin' night was gonna be over soon.

"Dance with me," Poppy said, holding her hand out to me.

I hesitated for a second, because she looked so fuckin' cute, her face flush from exertion, her eyes bright with excitement, and I wanted to remember her this way to file away in my mind.

"Dev, come on. It's the last song."

I rose to my feet and took her hand, leading her to the dance floor, and pulling her close. God, she smelled good. She looped her arms around my neck, slid her hands into my hair, and I tried not to react, but it was fuckin' impossible. I wanted her hands in my hair when I ate her out, not when we were fully clothed and in public.

I held her close, wrapping my arms around her waist and breathing in her sweet honeysuckle scent. It took all of my willpower not to run my hands down her ass, but, God damn, I wanted to touch her.

The song ended and I separated myself from her as quickly as I could. "You ready to go?"

"Um… sure. I guess."

"Hatch wants you home by midnight."

"Right." She sighed. "Let me just say goodbye to a few people."

I watched her as she hugged her friends, then we headed back out to the car and I drove her home.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Golden."

"Then why are you all stressy?"

I gripped the steering wheel in an effort not to snap at her. "Didn't realize I was 'stressy.'"

"Well, you are," she grumbled. "Your body's all rigid and your face is all… well… stressy."

"Just don't wanna be late."

"It's barely eleven-fifteen, Dev, and we're, like, two minutes from my house."

I didn't respond as we pulled onto her street. I parked at the curb, then went to her side of the car and opened her door. I wasn't prepared for what happened next, and it was something I'd regret for a really long time.

Poppy climbed out of the car, and gripped the lapels of my jacket, standing on her tiptoes and settling her mouth on mine. For a few seconds, I didn't think… I just reacted… sliding my hand to her neck and tilting her head back, then pressing my tongue against her lips so she'd open for me.

She sighed as she touched her tongue to mine and I was lost. But then sense hit me like a fuckin' Mack truck and I pushed her away and dragged my hands through my hair. "Goddammit, Poppy! Why the fuck did you do that?"

Her face fell. "I… ah…"

"Come on," I said, and started toward the house. When she didn't follow right away, I turned with a scowl. "Poppy. Come on. I've got shit to do."

She squared her shoulders and walked up the driveway, shoving past me, and unlocking the door. Pushing it open, she turned to face me, and I didn't miss the tears in her eyes.

"Thanks for taking me, Devon."

Without further comment, she shut the door and I heard the locks turn.

Goddammit!