Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 133180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“Yeah.” Edison sat up, leaving the warmth of Bishop’s chest, and stood to stretch. He’d enjoyed every second and hoped they could do this again soon.
“What are your plans tomorrow?” Bishop asked.
Edison caught Bishop trying to discreetly adjust himself in his jeans but Edison would have to have been blind to miss that bulge. He averted his eyes and went to his kitchen to get a quick drink of water before he blurted something embarrassing to Bishop like, ‘stay and ravage me all night’.
“I’ll be here. I don’t do much during the week,” Edison answered.
Bishop took his duffle bag and began to walk towards the door. They were both quiet as if one was waiting on the other to make a move. Before Edison could reach for the knob, Bishop grabbed him around his waist and spun him around until his back was shoved against the door. Edison almost humiliated himself because the way Bishop handled him so easily brought him too close to coming in his pants. Edison’s jaw was gripped, and he’d barely had time to open his eyes and see the feral expression in Bishop’s dark orbs before he took his mouth in a searing kiss. Edison did nothing but open to the pleasure, and tried not to fall to Bishop’s feet from his weak knees.
“Let me come back tomorrow,” Bishop said after coming up for a hot breath that he panted against Edison’s throat. “We can do the same thing… or nothing.”
Edison nodded, unable to speak.
“Okay.” Bishop eventually released him, and Edison opened the door. They watched each other for a long time as Bishop made his way to his truck. Edison wanted to yell at him to come back, that he was tired of being alone, but he pressed his kiss-tender lips together and waved when Bishop backed out of his driveway.
He’d be back tomorrow. He could read more to him soon. Edison felt as if he was floating on a natural high to his bedroom, and hummed through his nightly routine before drifting into a peaceful sleep.
Chapter Thirty-One
Bishop
Edison did just as Bishop asked for the next two weeks. He’d only stayed home two of those days and on Sundays. Other than that, he was at Edison’s. He’d work on his yard for a while, while Edison would cook. A few times he’d grilled, and he’d been out there to keep Bishop company while he dug edges for the complicated pathway leading to the shed. He loved the opportunity to flaunt his knowledge of landscaping. Edison always seemed genuinely interested, as if he wasn’t just humoring Bishop when he talked about planting pansies instead of mums.
While they ate at Edison’s dinner table they would talk about his work or his uncle—who reminded him so much of his dad that it could be difficult for him to be around him too long. They also talked about some of Bishop’s life growing up but he tended to drive the conversation quickly back to Edison. He didn’t like sharing stories of his despicable upbringing and who he’d been back then. He wanted Edison to concentrate on this Bishop.
Then his favorite part would come. Edison would make them a drink, turn off most of the lights in the house and nestle under him while he read to him… each night. Even though the mystery books were allowing them to get lost in another world and become enthralled in the lives of two made-up people, it was somehow bringing them closer together. And Edison did it with so much passion and enthusiasm that Bishop knew he loved it as well. Sometimes, he’d hear little hiccups in Edison’s voice when he’d run his nose across his temple and into his hair that always smelled slightly of raspberries. He could sit there and listen for hours. But, he couldn’t keep Edison locked away in the house to himself, and he didn’t want him thinking Bishop wanted to keep their relationship a secret. Because neither of those were true. And tonight, he was going to prove it.
“Hey.” Bishop kicked Trent in his boot where he sat propped against a tree getting ready to enjoy the shade while on their lunch break.
“Hey your-fucking-self. What’s up, man?” Trent asked, shielding his eyes. It was another scorcher today and the heat index had climbed to ninety-five, and it wasn’t even one o’clock.
“I asked Mike for a longer lunch. Come on, I need your help with something.” Bishop nodded for Trent to follow him, and he’d only made it halfway across the lawn when Trent caught up to him.
“Where are we going?”
Bishop didn’t answer right away as they took a left on Columbus Street, heading towards the middle of Town Center. “Right there.” Bishop pointed when the nice restaurant came into view.
“Where? To that fountain?” Trent grinned. “You need to make a wish.”