Chapter Nine: Bishop

She’s a drug.

And I’m addicted.

Every part of me knows I shouldn’t follow her out of this bathroom. She doesn’t hold the key to fixing the shit show that is my life. Hell, if anything, she’s the catalyst making it worse. Which is exactly why I absolutely shouldn’t be considering taking her up on her offer.

But when in the last four months have I done what I should?

I roll from the floor onto my feet and clear the doorway in two easy steps. When I enter the room, Willow is standing beside the king size bed, hands twisting in front of her. Her gaze sweeps over me, full of heat, with apprehension billowing in waves.

I take a predatorial step toward Willow, and then another, until she cranes her neck so her stunning blue eyes can meet my gaze. Her hands fall to her side and I take another step forward. The faint outline of her nipples straining against the fabric of her shirt catches my attention before my chest meets hers. She sucks in a breath, catching her lower lip between her teeth.

Willow may have decided she’s all in for one night, but she doesn’t know what she’s asking of me. I’m not the man she remembers. I can’t be. But one night. No strings attached. A taste of the freedom I experienced for a split-second on that plane. I can be that man.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” I give her one more chance to walk away, but more than that, I need to hear her say it. I need her to give me permission. Because if I touch her, all bets are off. There isn’t a flight attendant or a plane landing to stop me this time. If she says yes, I’m going to take what I need. I’m aware how selfish that makes me. But if what she says is true, she needs it as much as I do.

Willow is silent for a beat, then gives her reply by way of nodding.

My hand snakes up, hooking around her neck, and my thumb traces her jaw. Tugging her lower lip from where it’s still caught between her teeth, I growl. “Words, Willow, I need you to tell me you understand what you’re asking me for.”

“I want one night.” She nuzzles into my palm and whispers, “Forget everything else with me.”

My heart pounds against my ribcage as my eyes search hers, begging, pleading for her to understand. “I won’t be gentle.”

Her hand coversmine and pushes it down, forcing my fingers to wrap around her throat. Swallowing hard against my palm, her lips tip into a wicked grin. “I’m banking on it.”

Fuck. I don’t deserve her taking care of me. But I’m an asshole—a greedy prick—and there’s no way in hell I’m walking away now.

My dick twitches in agreement. Contrary to what the tabloids have reported, I haven’t been with a woman since before the crash—specifically the woman in front of me nearly a year ago.

Willow rocks up onto her tiptoes and ghosts her lips over mine. “Lawson.”

Lawson. No longer Bishop. And I remember what she said—this is goodbye.

I’ve never hated my last name so much.

“Stop thinking and fu?—”

It’s all the encouragement I need. I crash my lips against hers.

Inhaling, she eagerly wraps her arms around my waist, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss so I can taste her silent plea to deliver everything she’s asked of me. An involuntary moan tears from my throat, and I drop my hands to grip her hips before running them over the fabric of the skirt that could bring grown men to their knees, down to the curve of her perfectly rounded ass.

A growl rips from my chest. “I’ve told you what this skirt does to me.”

“I remember you saying something about them once. Can I tell you a secret?” She smiles against my lips and I nod, a part of me desperate for her to return the confidence I’ve given her. Willow reaches up and tugs me down so her breath caresses the shell of my ear as she whispers, “I wore it for you.”

The little minx. The joy in her voice cripples me. It might not have been any sort of declaration like I’ve made tonight, but it proves one thing. Willow York has been thinking of me.

“Fucking hell.” I dig my fingers into the offending fabric. “I should take you over my knee for the way you made my dick stand at attention for the majority of that flight.”

“You wouldn’t.” She scoffs playfully, but pulls back enough to look to see just how serious I am.

In both our nights together, I didn’t give into my need for control. I was just happy to count the number of times I could make Willow come on my face and cock. Now, though, the very thought of losing control has my skin crawling.

A mischievous grin tips my lips, and I lower my voice to just above a sultry moan. “Oh, I absolutely would. I’d love to see your perfect flesh reddened by my hand. But if I only get one night to distract myself, then I plan to spend it buried deep in that tight cunt of yours, not punishing you.”

The tiny gasp that escapes her lips gives me life, as does swallowing it with my mouth. A mess of lips and teeth, our tongues fight for dominance, and I love the fight she’s putting up. It only makes me want to possess her more.

One night, I remind myself.

My hands wander to the zipper at the small of her back. I lower it completely, fist the fabric on either side and pull, tearing the fabric to the slit. Willow gasps as the cool air of the hotel room hits her skin and the offending piece of cloth falls to the floor.

“Now it won’t be a problem,” I pant and silently add, For me or anyone else.

Willow’s chest shakes with quiet laughter against mine, the curve of her lips a silent promise I know from experience means she’ll exact her revenge in a way I never thought possible. But I’m too far gone to care.

I hate to admit it, but she was right. This is exactly what I needed.

My arm snakes around her waist, and when I lift, Willow instinctively wraps her legs around my waist. Her curves mold to mine and I love that when my hands find their way back to her ass, they aren’t met with bone, but soft, supple flesh.

Wait, flesh.

Not lace.

Not cotton.

“Willow, where the fuck are your panties?”

Her laugh is like sunshine and sends a zap of lightning straight to my balls.She gives me a look of innocence that is all for show. “They were wet, so I left them on the plane.”

I swoop down, my lips capturing hers, biting harshly on her lower lip until she lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a gasp. “You absolutely deserve that spanking.”

“It’s a good thing you’d rather be buried deep in my cunt.” She mewls against my lips before devouring them, bruising them in the bone deep way only she can.

Remind me again why I’ve lived in self-imposed celibacy for the last year?

Oh, that’s right, because she’s the only woman who makes my dick hard, and she hasn’t exactly been an option. Fuck, she still isn’t an option. But that’s not a worry for tonight.

Shifting our position, I turn and drop her onto the edge of the hip-height bed, pushing her so she falls onto her back.

Willow giggles, her legs and arms bouncing on the mattress. Her eyes flit down to her legs, and like she knows exactly what she’s doing, she lets her knees fall, revealing the pussy that has played a starring role in nearly all of my solo shower sessions. I bring my fist to my mouth, sinking my teeth into my first finger. She’s a fucking goddess.

“Like what you see?” She props herself up on her elbows and begins to unbutton the flimsy blouse she’s wearing. Her sultry gaze never leaves mine, even as I nod my agreement.

Willow toys with the fabric, pushing it just far enough that I can’t see more than the strap connecting the cups of her bra. “You want to rip this, too, don’t you?”

Holding her gaze, I take a step forward, edging myself between her legs. I lower one of my handsand tug on the bottom of her blouse. “Fuck, you have no idea.”

She laughs again, and I swear it’s magic. My gaze drops lower, following as her delicate fingers reveal inch after inch of her flawless flesh. She’s wearing a white lace bra that pushes her breasts up and is sheer enough that I can see her peaked nipples.

“Fucking hell. If I had known this is what was waiting for me under your clothes, we would have never left the plane.”

Willow shrugs off her blouse and awards me with a teasing smirk. “Choices were made.”

A chuckle rumbles in my chest as I pull out my wallet, followed by the condom I keep there. Her eyes zero in on the foil packet and just before I tug my shirt over my head, I swear I see her wince. I’ve never used a condom with her. Usually because we’ve always been too caught up in the moment and I know she’s on the pill, but that isn’t a boundary I can cross tonight. I might need the distraction, but I also need to remember this isn’t real. It’s chemistry. It’s a distraction. It’s not Kitten and Bishop. It’s Willow and Lawson.

By the time I’m shirtless, any trace ofhurt is gone from her face, and I push it from my mind as I ditch my jeans and boxers.

Willow licks her lips, eyeing the proud display my cock makes. The piercings from my Jacob”s ladder glint in the light from the single lamp in the room.She loves the damn piercing as much as I do, and I can’t help but toy with her. “Don’t lick those pretty little lips of yours like you deserve this cock between them.”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “No, I deserve it in my cunt where it belongs.”

My eyes nearly pop from their sockets.

Holy shit, this woman.

A year ago—hell, even six months ago—she wouldn’t have had the balls to meet me in the gutter with such confidence. She’s always told me how she gets off on my filthy mouth, but asking for what she wants—demanding it without me having to coax it from her—that’s new.

And I don’t hate it.

Fuck, I absolutely don’t hate it.

“Not mine,” I mutter under my breath. Mostly for me, but when she answers “not yours”, I’m left wondering if she needs the reminder too.

Fuck, we’re quite the pair.

“Now”—her attention shifts from my cock to my face, and she arches a single brow—“are you going to fuck me or not?”

My balls draw up with desire, and I can’t help the way my lips tip all the way up in a smile that feels foreign to me. “You’ve got a mouth on you, now.”

Willow shrugs. “I learned from the best.”

Her confidence is a breath of fresh air in an otherwise suffocating world, and not at all expected. “Are you trying to break me?”

“No, I’m trying to get you to break me,” she quips.

Fucking hell, I’m in trouble.

“Lose the bra,” I demand.

While she slips off the remainder of her clothes, I make quick work of sheathing my cock with the condom. I nudge her knees further apart and slide onto the bed between them. Running the length of my dick through her slick folds, I take my time teasing her and coating my dick with her arousal.

“You’re so fucking wet for me.”

“Mmmhmm.” Her whimpers are a symphony, and when I tap the top barbell on the underside of my cock against her clit, she jerks her hips up to meet me.

Unimpressed with my antics, Willow arches her back and angles her hips so I’m notched at her entrance.

Her blue eyes blaze into me and something clicks. Something primal. Something pure. Something I shouldn’t want.

I ignore the twinge in my chest. The one telling me this is a terrible idea, and I should absolutely get up and walk the fuck away. Right now. Do not pass go. Just leave Willow and whatever fucked up game we’re playing behind.

But there’s not enough blood for my brain, heart, and dick to all work at once, and I have no complaints over which is winning the war.

I’m aching. Desperate. My body needs this like it needs its next breath, and my mind is begging for relief. It’s unconventional, but honestly, Willow’s a goddamn genius.

Her sharp inhale goes straight through me, causing goosebumps to break out across my flesh as I hold on to her hips and push into her, painfully slow so I don’t wreck her—or me.

A shared gasp is the only sound between us in the otherwise deafening silence of the hotel room.

“So goddamn tight,” I grit out, sliding the final inch, so I’m completely seated within her.

She licks her lips and moans, her eyes baring her soul. “Just how you like it.”

God, she’s magnificent.

Willow’s hand digs into my forearms, grounding her as I slide out and back in and I relish the pain. Living for the way it makes my nerves fray and my body come alive. I’m chasing the high, every muscle coiled tight as I work our bodies together.

“Fuck,” I exhale, “you feel too fucking good.”

“Yes,” she pants, rocking her hips to meet my thrusts. “More.”

More.

This damn woman always wants more from me. More leadership. More consideration. More understanding. For months I haven’t been able to give her what she wants, but this—more of my cock—this I can do without the worry of failure.

Wrapping my arm around her, I flip us so she’s on top and scoot us the short distance to the head of the bed.

“Hands on the headboard,” I command, and though she raises a brow in question, she complies. Leaning forward until her breasts hang just above my mouth and only the tip of my length is left inside her.

“Hold on tight.”

It’s the only warning I give her before I thrust my hips up, hitting the deepest parts of her.

Willow throws her head back and lets out the prettiest scream, followed by a string of curses. “Holy fuck, Lawson.”

My last name echoes like a gong in my mind, but it’s easy to ignore as I watch her tits bounce from below, mesmerized by her flushed skin. Eyes closed, her blonde hair sticks to her forehead as tiny whimpers escape her swollen lips.

I lift onto my elbow, taking her nipple into my mouth like a man starved. My hand finds the nipple not occupied by my mouth and for every suck on one, I flick the other in time with the thrusts of my hips.

“Please,” she begs like I’m her savior, saving her from whatever plagues her.

I should care. I should ask her why she needs freedom from the perfect little life she’s made for herself. But I don’t. I can’t. Caring means connecting, and that’s the last thing I want. Connecting only leaves you with the ability to lose. And I’ve lost enough.

“Please what, Willow?” I purr against her skin.

“Make me come.”

Say less, Kitten.

I’m not sure where her body ends and mine begins, and the sounds she’s making are so damn sexy. She’s magic.

“Watch, Willow,” I rasp between frantic thrusts. “Watch me fuck you. Watch yourself take every inch of my cock, so tomorrow you’ll remember exactly who left you aching.”

Her head drops, eyes locked on where we connect, but my gaze remains on her. The way she bites her lip when her pelvis meets mine and the way her mouth parts slightly, a low whimper slipping past her lips—she’s a delicious mix of sinful and erotic.

My mind struggles to reconcile this is really happening.

That is until Willow locks her piercing blue gaze with mine. Her brow furrows, like she’s trying to figure something out and can’t quite grasp it. Once again, I’m hit with the memories of my old self. A time when I would question it, press until she told me what was bothering her, and figure out how to fix it. But I can’t do that now. Not when her eyes are wide windows to a lost soul—a soul that matches mine.

As soon as the moment comes, it’s gone, flitting away with the thrust of hips and rushing pleasure.

A shiver wracks her body and Willow stills, her cunt turning into a viselike grip on my cock as she attempts to force me out. My fingers tighten on her hip and my thumb brushes her clit in tiny circles. I hold her there until she throws her head back and cries out.

“Fuck, yes, Bishop.”

My chest swells. She’s fucking beautiful when she comes, and I have to fight not to join her too quickly, but my name on her lips is enough to undo me.

Tingles shoot down my spine and my vision doubles as she cries my name again, begging me not to stop.

I couldn’t if I tried.

Two more thrusts and I follow her over the edge as she rides out the last spasms of her orgasm.

Willow collapses on me, her forehead pressed to where my heart pounds in my chest. When her breath grows steady, she looks up at me, her eyes glassy and full of satisfaction.

Slowly, I pull out and she takes that as her cue to roll off me. Only she doesn’t stop in her usual spot—the crook of my arm with her head on my chest. Instead, she’s a mile away on the other side of the king size bed, catching her breath with her eyes closed.

Well, that won’t do.

If I’m not allowed to retreat and ruin this moment, then neither is she. This is about forgetting, and I’m not about to let reality seep in. Not after a spiritual moment like that. Reality can wait.

Carefully, I remove the condom from my deflated dick, tie the end, and discard it on the floor. A mess for later. I crawl across the bed, closing the distance between us and settle between her legs.

Willow jumps, propping herself on her elbows and attempts to close her knees, but I’m there stopping her, hands on her thighs. Her brows knit together before she gives in and her knees flop onto the bed.

I raise my brow. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Pink tinges her cheeks. “I should go.”

I shake my head. “You said I get one night. That implies in its entirety. Did you think we were done?”

“I figured?—”

“I thought you said no thinking.” My voice lilts, dare I say playfully, as I trace my fingers up the inside of her thigh until I reach the lips of her pussy, swollen and dripping from her release.

Something I can only describe as animalistic pride puffs in my chest with the knowledge that I did that to her. She could have asked anyone to free her, but she showed up at my hotel room.

“You want more?” Her words are breathy and filled with the trepidation that comes with spiraling into one”s thoughts.

I wonder—nope, if she can’t spiral, neither can I.

She sucks in a breath and fists the comforter when I slip a finger inside her.

“I want what I was promised,” I say, removing my finger.

Her eyes are wide and zeroed in on my digit as I bring it to my lips, painting them with her arousal before taking it in my mouth and licking it clean.

Her lip catches between her teeth and she moans. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

“Yes, you are. And the night is still young.”