Chapter Forty-Two

SHAY

"Calli, I swear to God, if you don't stop giggling…" I warned my best friend as we stumbled up the front steps to the porch. Whip and Rafe had been our designated babysitters for the night, and I could practically hear them cackling as they sat in Calli's car with the headlights pointed at the steps, waiting for us to get inside before they headed back to the clubhouse.

I grabbed the door handle, twisting it and almost falling flat on my face as it swung inward.

Calli slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to smother her laughter, although she was doing a pretty shitty job, her giggles filling the foyer. "Shh!" I hissed with a smile, flicking the light switch on and giving the boys a wave as they pulled out of the driveway.

Bishop was slowly easing up on the protection detail.

Maybe it was a little overkill to have a couple of club members with us a month after the chaos that was Vince Martelli. Still, I didn't mind so much because I knew it gave him peace of mind, and honestly, it gave me a little too.

After what happened, the sleepless nights came back with a vengeance.

This time, even with Bishop lying beside me, there was no escaping them for almost two weeks. But he stayed with me every single night. Holding me. Talking to me.

Reassuring me I was safe for hours until the sun came up and the shadows disappeared.

It was a battle with my brain that I'd fought before but never would have won without him.

With the front door shut, I leaned back against it, exhaling a relieved breath. The house was still quiet.

"I'm going to bed," Calli whispered, grabbing the banister and almost tripping over as she lifted her foot for the first step. She steadied herself, inhaling and planting it firmly before trying again. "You two better keep it down if you decide to get freaky tonight," she warned with a grin as she climbed slowly.

Rolling my eyes, I watched her until she got to the top, just in case I needed to dive in and catch her if she fell backward. One of us had had at least three more margaritas and four more tequila shots than the other.

I didn't blame her, though. She was celebrating.

After two months at her internship, they'd already offered her a full-time job at the end, and this one was a little closer than New York.

It was right here in Detroit. She was coming home!

When Calli stumbled into her bedroom and kicked the door closed behind her, I finally relaxed, kicking off my heels and heading for the kitchen, eager to get a glass of water and climb into bed with my man.

The moonlight shining through the kitchen window was just bright enough for me to see the outline of the cabinets and table so I could maneuver around them and get to the sink. I was reaching up, searching for a glass on the open shelves above, when a body pressed up behind me.

I gasped, making Bishop chuckle, and I instantly melted back into him as he nuzzled his face into the curve of my shoulder. "The two of you could wake the dead," he whispered, his arms circling my waist.

Laying my head back onto his shoulder, I let out a contented sigh. "That's your daughter," I murmured, closing my heavy eyelids fall. It was going on three in the morning, and there was still a reasonable amount of alcohol coursing through my veins. It was enough to make me extremely thankful for having a man who was strong enough to hold my weight, especially since I was about to try to convince him to carry me up the stairs because tackling that climb right now was really not in my best interests. "Calli talks like she has a megaphone permanently lodged in her throat. I, on the other hand, am as quiet as a mouse."

I expected him to laugh or call me out.

What I didn't expect was my heart rate to spike as he lifted me off the floor and turned me to face the opposite direction, my eyes shooting open when his mouth brushed my ear. "I think we should test that theory," he growled, the deep, raspy sound making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "Put your hands on the table, Shay."

His hands slipped to my hips as I leaned forward, bracing my palms on the table that I could barely see in the darkness.

The dress I had on was already short enough, but in this position, my entire ass was out, and Bishop wasn't shy about taking advantage. He tugged at my thong, shimmying the pathetic piece of fabric over my hips and letting it fall to my feet.

He slipped a hand between my legs, swiping a couple of fingers through my already-drenched pussy. I sucked in a soft gasp, but it was cut short when his free hand covered my mouth. "Not a sound," he warned, swirling his fingers around my clit, slowly driving me absolutely fucking crazy. I pushed back against his hand, my nails scratching at the tabletop as, little by little, he pushed two fingers inside me. "Good girl," he praised, sliding his hand from my mouth to my jaw and turning my face so he could kiss me.

Cigars.

It was a taste and smell I'd grown to love after spending more and more time curled up next to him on the porch once or twice a week. That's the time he gets to be free from responsibilities, and when we talk about the world, life, the future, and sometimes, the past.

"If you keep quiet, I'll let you come," Bishop whispered, driving his fingers deeper inside me. I threw my head back and spread my legs, silently pleading for more. "You think you can do that, baby?"

"I…" A shudder rolled through my entire body, pleasure tickling at my nerve endings and making it almost impossible for me to think of anything but how badly I wanted him. "Yes."

He grabbed my arm, turning me around and lifting me onto the table's edge. One nudge and he separated my thighs, stepping between them as he shoved at his jeans, forcing them to fall, and grabbing hold of his cock as it sprang free.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, suddenly captivated by how his eyes sparkled in the moonlight while our bodies twisted together in the darkness. I sucked in a sharp breath as he nudged my clit with the head of his cock before lining it up with my pussy and driving it hard inside me.

Pulling hard on his neck, I drew his mouth to mine, the devouring kiss the only thing that would keep me from calling out his name as he didn't even bother to start out slow, simply driving hard and deep inside me and hitting every fuck-yes button in the process.

That was what he wanted.

It always amused this damn man to tempt and tease me in a way that pushed me far outside my comfort zone. And I loved it every single time. It was like having a man who knew me better than I knew myself.

He knew what made me smile and made me sad, but he also knew all the ways he could light my body on fire long before I was even aware of them.

Each thrust was harder than the last, almost lifting me off the table as he drove himself deeper inside me. He peppered kisses from my mouth, along my jaw to my ear, and I chewed hard on my lip, forcing the heated moans to die in my throat, not wanting him to stop like I knew he would if I even squeaked.

"Bet all those men at the bar tonight couldn't keep their eyes off you," Bishop whispered, his warm breath tickling my neck. "Bet they wish they could have had this."

I threw my head back as the warmth began to build, my heart rate rising, my body twitching as every movement had the potential to set me off, like striking a match on the side of a matchbox, waiting for that one perfect connection to make the flames burst free.

"Too bad I don't fucking share," he growled, reaching between us and flicking his thumb over my clit. "Too bad for them that I'm the only one who gets to see how fucking beautiful you are when you come."

"Yes," I hissed, unable to keep quiet as he finally struck the match and sparks flew, my orgasm shuddering through me. "Oh G—"

He covered my mouth with his, swallowing my moans and sighs as he held himself inside me, my pussy squeezing every last drop of cum out of him. I held him tightly as my body shook and shuddered, the fire slowly dying out, but the heat still radiating through me—the kind that I knew I'd still be feeling the next day.

Bishop had that effect.

He finally pulled back, both of us breathing heavily, and I couldn't stop the quiet laughter that fell from my lips as he helped me down off the table, my legs shaking. "Shh," he warned, tugging at the bottom of my dress and pulling it back into place before wrapping his arms around me. "Did you have a good night?"

I reached up, sweeping my fingers through his hair. "Better now," I answered, keeping my voice as low as possible. "Keeping up with Calli is not an easy feat. The girl has the stamina of a preschooler on a sugar rush when she parties."

"She did learn from the best," Bishop murmured, lowering his forehead and pressing it to mine. "I've got a clubhouse full of men who act like fucking children every day."

Absolute truth.

While Bishop's men were fearless, protective, and willing to do things no normal person would for the people they loved, there were days when being at the clubhouse was also similar to being inside a frat house or a daycare. They could be chaotic and juvenile.

But I'd trust every single one of them with my life.

"That's the part I love the most because it feels like I have fifteen kids, but I didn't have to give birth, and they come already potty trained," I joked with a wide grin before adding. "Well, most of them."

His deep, gravelly laugh made me smile.

It never got old, hearing the joy in his voice—a sound I hoped to hear every day for the rest of forever.

This man had changed my life, and he'd saved my life in more ways than I could ever explain.

And I would spend whatever I had left of it, showing him all the ways I loved him for it.