“You!” I narrow my eyes and slowly start to crawl down the bed, like a tiger about to eat its prey. I’m about to eat my prey—that prey being Nate.
“No,” he retreats, his hands coming up in surrender. “That’s not what…. I was waking you up because….” He looks around my room, trying to find a valid excuse. Squaring his shoulders, his face turns serious. “Imagine if the house was on fire, Mads!”
“But it’s not. Is it?” I challenge, standing to my feet. I watch him, and he looks over to my bedroom door briefly before looking back to me. “Madi, I can explain. It’s….” Then he makes a dash for it, launching toward my bedroom door and slamming it behind him. I fly toward it, twisting on my door handle and banging on the wood. “Open this fucking door, Nate!” I scream.
“No! Say you won’t, like, hurt my balls or something.”
“I won’t fucking hurt you!”
“Lies!” he yells back. “I know when you’re lying, because you add a ‘fucking’ in the middle. Tell me the truth!”
Exhaling in defeat, I open my mouth, just about to surrender, when I see my bathroom door open. Grinning, I slowly step backward. “Okay, I’m sorry. Do you forgive me?” Silently, I step into the bathroom, slide over to his door, and twist the handle open. It’s unlocked. Grinning from my cleverness, I pull the door open, but my face falls instantly.
“Going somewhere?” Bishop is standing in front of me, shirtless with those ripped jeans on. He basically just walked right out of my dream. Life is not fair and the universe obviously fucking hates me.
“I-uh…” I look around the room, hitching my thumb over my shoulder. “…am just going to go.” I spin around and start to run back toward my room, but Bishop hooks his arm around my waist, lifting me off the ground and throwing me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.
“Bishop!” I yell. “Put me the fuck down!”
“Ah, see… you put a ‘fuck’ in there. You must be mad.” He slaps my ass cheek, the sting vibrating over my skin. “Calm yourself, woman!”
“I hate you!” I shriek, just as he throws me onto my bed. The morning sun glaring through my porch windows catches his messy bed hair. The chestnut brown color sets off the contrast of his tanned skin.
His eyes turn almost black. “Yeah? Well, I don’t give a fuck. You’ve hated me for so long now.”
“This is different!” I shout back, suddenly angry at him.
“What?” He matches my level of loud. Spreading his arms out, he smirks. “How? How is this different?”
“You let Saint fuck me and Nate go down on me!” I scream, tears suddenly slipping down my cheeks. Jesus. When did I become such a girl? I make a mental note to check the dates, because I must be due for Mother Nature’s visit. There’s no way I’m this much of a pussy-ass bitch.
Bishop stops. His eyes look straight into mine, commanding the entire room while summoning my fucking soul. Because that’s what he does. When his stance changes to this one—one I’ve only seen twice now—he stares into my eyes and summons my soul. But with my soul come my demons, and I think that’s the part he’s only just figuring out.
“Come again,” he growls softly. Too softly.
I shiver in fear, because I should be fucking scared. Every survival instinct the human body has is on high alert within me right now. Run. I should run. But I can’t, because he’s fucking summoned me. Because—
“Madison,” he repeats in the same tone, cocks his head a little, and slowly walks toward the foot of my bed. “Repeat what you just said, and think very carefully about your next words, because my fingers are twitching to snap some necks…” He pauses, breaking our eye contact and glaring right at my throat. “…and yours is looking rather snapable too.”
Oh shit.
“Okay, hang on.” I stand up from the bed, feeling more confident on my feet. “I meant that—” He pushes me back down onto the bed. “Bishop!” I yell, propping myself up on my elbows and looking up at him.
“Did any of them touch you?”
“Bishop—”
He grips onto my leg and pushes me up my bed, stepping between my thighs. “Don’t, Madison. Don’t fuck with this.”
“I meant it was—”
He presses his lips to the crook of my neck and bites down on it roughly.
“Was what?” he asks, his voice vibrating against my skin as his other hand comes up to my throat. His thumb caresses my jawline gently as he kisses and licks all over my neck. Biting down on my bottom lip to fight a moan, I close my eyes, but then he presses his dick into me, and I lose it.
“Was a fucking dream!” I yell, still slightly angry at him.
He stops, pauses, and settles his face into my neck. Seconds pass when I feel his body jerking on top of me.
Narrowing my eyes, I slap him in the ribs. “Are you fucking laughing?”
Then he bursts into fits of laughter, rolling onto his back while clutching his stomach. “Fuck.”
I’m staring at him, confused and annoyed, and just when I’m about to hit him again, I realize this is the first time I’ve ever seen Bishop laugh. Or even smile this big. Or just smile without there being an ulterior motive behind it.
Before I can stop myself, I giggle. “Stop laughing. It’s not funny.”
He slams his mouth closed as he tries to contain his fit, and then he looks to me, his eyes dancing with humor. “Sorry, babe. But that’s fucking hilarious. You getting mad at me over a dream.”
“Stop. It was more than that, and it felt like….”
He hooks his arm around my waist, lifts me up, and puts me on top of him so I’m straddling his waist. Placing his arms behind his head, he stares at me, so I look away, scared he’ll summon some more
