Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“Ah!” I fist his hair and shove his face farther into my neck, sort of like what I’ve seen Lainey do with Kody when he was a baby and decided to use her nipple as a chew toy. It seems to have the desired effect. Bishop releases me from his teeth. I have to pry his fingers loose from my hips.
“No, don’t!” He tries to prevent me from clambering out of his lap, but his face is contorted into a grimace of pain.
I wriggle free and scramble to the other side of the couch. As soon as I’m no longer grinding my lady parts on his junk, he cups himself, then slams his head against the couch cushions a couple of times while he continues to groan and swear. “I just want some goddamn friction! Is that too much to ask for?”
“I don’t think you’re ready for friction.” I’m all pitchy and breathless.
He rolls his head toward me, gaze moving over me in a hot, angry sweep. “I managed to whack off in the shower yesterday. It didn’t feel awesome, but at least I got a little relief.” He jabs an annoyed hand toward the obvious bulge behind his hand. “This is damn well torture.” He’s still cupping himself protectively—as if he’s worried I’m going to spontaneously hump him. He was the one who pulled me into his lap, not the other way around.
“It’s probably divine intervention or something.” I avert my gaze before I can do something even stupider than trying to make out with him, like offering him a handy or a blow job to take the edge off.
He opens his mouth to respond, but his phone buzzes on the coffee table and his brother’s name flashes across the screen. At the same time mine flashes with a new message. Thank God for poorly timed interruptions. I pick up my phone, even though the message is from Joey, which I’m not at all interested in checking. But at least now I’m not staring at Bishop’s bulge. I can feel his eyes on me as he reaches for his phone.
“Ah shit,” he grumbles.
“Is everything okay?” I side-eye him so I don’t have to look directly at him.
“My brother can’t find his freaking insulin.”
“Is he at home?”
“Yeah.” He hits the call button and brings his phone to his ear. I can hear Nolan’s muffled voice. “You check the coffee table . . . the fridge . . . the linen closet? Fuck. If I tell you where I keep it, then I’m going to have to find another place to put it so you don’t lose it. You what? Jesus, Nolan. How the hell did you find it?” He runs an aggravated hand through his hair. “I’ll be right there. We’ll be talking about this shit, though. I was in the middle of something.” He ends the call. “I gotta go. He found my spare earlier today and now he can’t find either kit, and he’s been looking for an hour already.”
“Oh God, that’s not good.” I follow him to the door.
“No. It’s really not. I wish he’d take this more seriously. One day I’m not going to be here to save his ass.”
“You know, you can keep a couple doses here if you need to, just in case.”
“That might be a good idea.” He steps out into the hall, crutch braced under one arm. “Oh, and this discussion isn’t over.” He motions between our crotches.
I roll my eyes. “I think it would be better if we chalked that up to hormones and pretend it never happened.”
Nolan opens the door before Bishop can argue. He looks from Bishop to me without making eye contact and grimaces. “Sorry for the interruption.”
“You should be, asshole. You ruined my night.”
“Let me know if you need any help,” I offer.
Bishop waves me off, and they disappear into his apartment. I close the door and lean against it, running my fingers along the edge of my jaw where Bishop bit me and down to my neck where he sucked the skin. I rush to the bathroom and flip on the light. The spot is flushed pink, and there are tiny crescents from where his teeth were.
The near kiss is the only thing I can think about when I get into bed. And it follows me into my dreams. I don’t need the complications that come with getting involved with Bishop, but I don’t know that I’m going to be able to keep my crotch from gravitating to his if I find myself in a situation like that again.
CHAPTER 18
RESISTANCE IS FUTILE
Stevie
Joey corners me the next morning at work and tries to ask me all kind of questions about Bishop and what’s going on between us.
“I’m helping him rehab, and I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your big yap shut about that.”