Chapter 16 Wren
WREN
Doc approaches first, leaning on the bar and looking at my mouth. Likely swollen from kisses and…other things. The longer he examines me, the more heat I feel burning my cheeks.
Then he smirks, desire filling his eyes as he looks up into mine.
I suck in a shallow breath and hold it, trying to stand my ground and utterly failing.
Settling himself on a stool across from me, he braces both elbows on the bar and lets his gaze do a tour of my body. “I’ll take a Scotch. Neat.”
Nodding, I grab a glass and the bottle, pouring him one.
He sips it. I swear to god, the tension of his attention swells, ready to swallow me whole and pull me under. Is it because I’m still soaked and throbbing and needy?
Is it simply my reaction to him? His proximity? I’ve been drawn to him this whole time, and his attention hasn’t wavered once. Not even when warned off of me.
I find any reason to keep moving, grabbing glasses and washing them in a sink of warm, sudsy water. The simple motion keeps my mind occupied because I’m going to start trembling under Doc’s scrutiny.
Tension grips my lungs, and I’m struggling to breathe because I want to engage but know better than to do it. Here. In front of so many of the club members and their little biker bunnies.
Pixie smacks me with the end of her dish towel, eyeing the two of us. “Go wipe the tables down.”
I do, grabbing a fresh towel and wiping my first table down before meeting Sin’s gaze. He’s leaning against a nearby wall, just as unavoidable, sipping on a beer, hand dropping to grab the front of his pants and adjusting himself as I watch.
My cheeks burn brighter.
His smirk has me moving quickly.
I’m so out of my depth here. I can navigate a networking event, a ballroom, an intimate dinner with the elite of the city, but these men…the way they make me burn inside. I have no idea what to do with that. It makes me feel like a horny teen just discovering boys.
As if that phase of my life hadn’t been bad enough.
I wipe the cloth over every empty table, turning redder and redder as the guys make offhand comments about moaning spirits and groaning engines. I take as much as I can before I flee to behind the bar, gather up the dirty towels, and dash into the hallway to put them in the wash.
It gives me a few seconds of peace. Enough that my shoulders drop from around my ears, and I’m able to crane my head back as I stretch my spine.
Hands appear on either side of the washer around me, heat and man surrounding me. “Back here trying to hide?”
Doc’s voice sends a shiver through me. His breath fans against the back of my neck, under my hair, giving me goosebumps.
“No.” Even to me, I sound like a teenager trying to lie to their parents.
“No?”
I suck in a slow breath and try again. “Maybe.”
The heat of him at my back sends a pang between my legs. I’m already overly sensitive and far too turned on to be in this position. Especially with Doc.
I swallow hard, and his hands are at my waist, swinging me into his office and closing the door softly. My back meets the solid wood, and I’m trapped again, between it and him.
My body reacting on its own, all heat and sparks, it rolls against him, needing contact.
His jaw clenches, eyes darken, and he leans in a little harder, pressing us flush together.
I’m cornered, and for once I like it.
The room is dim, but I can see the desire in his eyes. “Saint teach you how to suck a cock?”
My eyes go wide, and I nod.
“Good. Get on your knees and show me.” A heavy tension has me suspended in the moment for a second before I jerk into motion.
When I reach for him, he helps me down, brushing my hair from my face as I yank at his belt.
He sucks in a sharp breath, and I can feel the need tightening the muscles in his stomach.
The buckle loosens, and I tear open his fly to expose his hard cock. It’s bobbing inches from my face, so I breathe across the tip. Pride curls in my chest at the way his grip twists in my hair, and he lets out a ragged breath.
Cupping him with my tongue earns me the smallest moan. Doc seems more on edge than usual. How long has it been since he’s been touched and teased this way?
I enjoy every little reaction I get out of him. Who knew taking a cock in my mouth could be this rewarding? This addictive?
Finally, I wrap a hand around his base and squeeze, the way Saint showed me he liked. It gains me another small moan from Doc, which turns into a groan when I lay an open mouthed kiss on his head.
When I give him a solid suck, I watch him stiffen, bowing to push further into my mouth. He hisses and meets my gaze. “You sure this is only the second time you’ve done this?”
I hum my answer at him.
“Fuck.”
I know he can feel this deranged attraction, the one that had me flirting with him when I shouldn’t, had him protecting me when he didn’t know me. Had us out of control.
Pulling him in as far as I can, I swallow, suck, and lick. I can’t take all of him on my own, but I don’t think I need to. I can make him fall apart just like this. I’ll make sure of it.
Doc gives me no instructions, but his focus on me is unilateral. I glow under his attention.
God, I want more of him. My hand scrambles up his stomach, and I catch a glimpse of tattooed skin. Yes, I want to see all of it. To map every line with my fingers and tongue.
“Fucking sweetest temptation I’ve ever had.”
I track every inhale and exhale, every shudder in his chest. I’m obsessed.
“Can you take all of me?” His voice is ragged. Desire dripping with his words.
I pull back enough to tell him, “Yes. But you have to help.”
“Oh, I’ll fucking help.” The hottest promise he could make.
Taking him back in my mouth, I get myself ready, up to the point that I’ll gag. And I do. It makes him grunt, and then he’s tipping my head back, and I’m swallowing him down. His strangled moan is the best reward.
Fuck, I’m so turned on.
Will he touch me back after I make him come? Or will he send me back out to the wolves with soaked panties and no relief?
Who knew giving up control like this would be so hot?
Pleasure twists Doc’s features, his breath coming hard and fast through his nose, but he tugs me to a stop, pulling out.
I whine, reaching for him.
“Shh.”
Fear seizes me. Have we been caught? Is this going to cause a fight?
Then, the movement outside is more obvious, louder—shouts and stamping feet. The fear becomes something more real.
Doc stuffs himself back in his pants. “You know how to handle a gun, bird?”
I can’t dwell on the nickname or how it makes me feel light inside. “Yes.”
Thank god for having a southern father obsessed with guns. He’s taken me shooting since I was still in single digits. It keeps the fear from spilling into full blown panic.
“Good. There’s one in my top right desk drawer. Get it and hide until one of us comes to get you.”
I do.