My jaw drops, and my eyes keep going from his arrow to his smiling face. I think I know what Lori means when he talks about ovary explosions. Ezra leaves the bow on the counter and comes back to me, while I’m still standing here.
“Wow.” It’s the only word I can utter.
He kisses my nose. “Hold on to your glasses.”
Before I can ask why, I’m thrown over his shoulder and taken to the front desk, where he grabs our jackets and then resumes his walk. Only when we reach his motorbike does he put me down, ass on the seat. My head feels a little dizzy as he slides his big body between my legs, spreading them almost to the maximum. He puts the coat on me, gives me my bag and wears his jacket.It’s a little colder outside, but the fire he started inside me is still going.
“We will grab a bite to eat next, and then I’ll take you home and fuck your ass until my balls are empty.” He slaps my thigh and then turns my visibly trembling body face forward. This man has such a way with filthy words.
He’s about to mount in front of me when I scream, “Wait!” Flattening my hand on his chest to prevent him from sitting, while the other hovers over the bike seat where a small ladybug has landed.
I move my finger near it, urging it to climb on, but the little beetle changes direction. So I try again.
“Do you know that ladybugs are considered a sign of good luck, and some say they grant patience and fewer burdens?”
“Don’t believe in luck, nor in superstitions.”
“What do you believe in, then?” I ask as the ladybug finally starts walking on my finger. She is so pretty and small.
Ezra stares at it with a critical eyebrow. “My own inner strength.”
His responses always make me pause and reflect. He believes in himself. That’s deep. The little beetle decides to fly away, and I purse my lips as it disappears. It’s too cold for it outside, I hope it’ll find a warm place to rest.
“Cute.” I think I hear him muttering. But when I look at him his eyes are on me, not the disappearing beetle.
He takes his place on the bike and passes me the helmet. We ride a short distance. The restaurant he stops at has valetparking and a doorman who lets us in to the hostess desk. She gazes at us for a little too long, then checks for our reservation on her tablet and escorts us to our table. The atmosphere is sophisticated—stylish lighting, luxurious white-and-gray furnishings, champagne linen tablecloths, and small floral centerpieces in high vases. The tables are generously spaced, creating a quiet, intimate setting for the customers.
“Would you like to give me your jackets?”
While I’m unbuttoning mine, I see her reaching out for Ezra’s shoulders with a sugary smile and a lustful gaze. I react before I can think better of it. I slap her hand away. She yanks it back and holds it close to her chest. Her brown eyes flicker between us as I beg my brain to find something to say.
Ezra does first. “Do refrain from touching me.” Is he grinning? “My boyfriend is possessive.”
She nods, staring at us as if we are a couple of weirdos, and maybe we are. Ezra hands her our jackets as she finally finds her voice. “A waiter will come shortly.”
Ezra grabs my hand and drags me away from the table and toward the bathroom. I can’t see his face; is he angry? Was he faking a smile in front of the hostess?
“I-I don’t know why I did it,” I try to explain. “I just didn’t want her hands on you. I’m-m sorry…I…”
He pushes the bathroom door and doesn’t stop until we are inside one of the stalls, and I hear the click of the door lock.
I’m shoved against the wall, his lips devouring my mouth, his hands palming and molding my ass as his cock rubs against mine. My leg hooks on his hip as his mouth moves on my neck.
“What did I say about apologizing?” His fingers find my nipple through the sweater and pinch it hard, making me scream.
“Stop. There are people outside.”
“Can’t fucking stop. Seeing you all possessive toward me made me so damn hard.”
Oh gods, if he keeps stroking against me, I’m going to come.
“Ezra, please.” This restaurant is too high-end for sex.
His hand slides inside my pants, grabbing my ass cheek. “Bathroom sex is one of your fantasies, don’t you want to make it real?” His gruff voice rumbles in my ear.
Fuck yes, I do. But…
“How do you know about my dirty fantasies?” My body turns rigid as I wait for his reply.
