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He crossed the room and pulled me into his torso and took a handful of my backside with a hard smack. “But I have half a mind to redden your ass before I put you on my bike.”
I squirmed in his hold, but he had a firm grip. His cock pressed into my hip and my thighs clenched. I’d never been so sore, but the way he was looking at me with his signature smolder made my pussy ache.
This man could use me for the rest of my life and it wouldn’t be enough.
* * *
After we stopped at his brother’s apartment for a second helmet, we headed to my place so I could pack an overnight bag and change into something more comfortable for the ride.
Ezra lurking around my new apartment felt almost sweet, like he wanted to know more about me without having to ask. When I came out of my room with my leather travel bag on my back, he was holding a photo of my father and me standing outside of Stanford on the day of my graduation.
“What did you study?” He sounded melancholy.
“Business. I got my MBA a few months ago. Daddy has been carving out a position for me at Solar Star, his international solar development company. I know everyone who works there because he's owned it since I was in middle school. Everyone still sees me as some brace-faced kid. But until then, I’m enjoying life and going where the universe takes me.”
He stood silent a moment more then said, “The universe is unpredictable.”
“Isn’t that exciting?”
“Riveting.” His lip curled with his sarcastic response.
I pulled at his arm, and we finally left.
It isn’t that I didn’t want Ezra to know me, but the truth was, I didn’t have the drive or desire to work at my father’s constantly changing business. I knew working for Daddy would be easy and I’d get to live in L.A. again. San Jose was not my vibe. But I wasn’t ready to give up the parties and the freedom I had in college.
When we got back down to Ezra’s bike, he swung his leg over it and took a seat. The bike sank under his weight, but he didn’t put his helmet on right away. He shook out his raven hair, squinting in the sun high above.
He was breathtaking. His black hair shined as he raked his fingers through it. The tattoos on his neck ticked with the tightening of the column of his throat. The snag of shadows under the sharp angles of his cheekbones and chin made him look as if he had been sculpted by God himself.
“Ready?”
That soul-melting smile sent heat to my cheeks and longing to my chest. My answer was my arms around his shoulders and a kiss intended to make him crave more.
He cursed under his breath when I finally pulled away. Then, I put on my helmet and slipped onto the seat behind him. He adjusted the situation I’d created in his pants then pulled his own helmet on.
I clung to him for dear life until we reached a less traffic-dense stretch of freeway. The ocean peeked in and out of view from the hills and valleys down the I-5 as Ezra swerved and maneuvered the motorcycle between slower vehicles. With each loud rev of the engine, I hugged his torso tighter until I was practically wearing his leather jacket.
Down a long straight, Ezra lifted his hands above his head and allowed the bike to drift long enough for my screams of terror to echo in my helmet. My nails clawed into his chest and my life was flashing before my eyes.
The wind carried his laugh back to me. He gripped the handles again and hit the gas to bring one last scream from my throat.
“Don’t worry, beautiful,” he yelled over the noise of the road. “I’ll take care of you.”
The asshole.
My thighs squeezed against him, and a wicked idea took form.
I slipped my hand beneath the front of his shirt to the soft, taut skin of his stomach. The hair leading down to his waistband parted with my fingers. I didn’t have to struggle to go any farther; his cock was thick and waiting for me to take hold of it. The spaces between his piercings were just wide enough for my fingers at this angle.
Next, I shifted my hips forward and circled my pelvis against his lower back. The friction was warm but not nearly enough to get me off. Still, my point was made.
A deep groan vibrated his back, and his hips gave a gentle buck, but I didn’t move my arm to stroke him. If he was going to tease me, I would give him a dose of my own version of thrilling medicine.
I pulsed my grip on his cock, and he throbbed in response. My free hand trailed up to his chest and I dragged my nails slowly down. He let out a loud and devious curse. I wanted him desperately, but the power I was wielding was heady and dazing. He was at my mercy and I was going to savor every minute.
Ezra brought a hand down from the handlebars to cup my knuckles. He wanted me to add pressure, for me to move, but I held firm. His frustration was growing, and the more he searched for release, the more my body wound up.
Would it be possible to climax from the sheer anticipation of him punishing me later?
