“Good?”
“Not bad, but I guess it will taste even better to you because you haven’t eaten in so long.” I push off the wall and make my way toward him, taking a seat beside him on the mattress. Grabbing a taco, I dip it into the guacamole and bite into the crispy shell.
“Mmmmm,” I groan, unable to help the pleasure that takes over my body as my taste buds get their first taste of the taco.
Bishop pauses, sushi roll midway to his mouth. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” I ask innocently, licking the sauce off my fingers.
He drops the sushi roll back onto the platter. “Madison….”
I roll my eyes. “I won’t do that, but! Only because I’m starving and I actually feel like I’m about to eat every single thing on this platter.”
“Good.” He grins, picking up the sushi roll and popping it back into his mouth.
I chow down my taco, not making a single sound. Reaching for my water bottle, I twist it open, swallowing the cool liquid.
“So tell me, how’d you know all of this was my favorite food?” I ask Bishop, stretching out on the mattress because my stomach feels like it’s about to explode. Looking up at the ceiling, I eventually look toward him when he doesn’t say anything.
“I know all there is to know about you, Madison.” He moves the platter to the other side of the mattress and slides beside me. “Ask me anything.”
“Hmmm.” I bring my finger to my lip, pretending to mull over some questions. “Okay, how about this?”
Bishop raises his eyebrows cockily.
“Where was I born?”
“New York, try harder than that.”
He’s right; that was too easy. “My first pet’s name?”
“Billy and he was a goldfish. You were seven and demanded your mom buy it for you so you’d have a friend, because you were an only child. Furthermore, you used that same excuse for Jasper the Persian cat, Slash—by the way, nice choice of name—the Pomeranian—not a fan of giving such a powerful name to such a tiny dog either—and Jupiter, your parrot.” He tilts his head, egging me to challenge him.
I don’t. I just stare, because what else could I do? Nothing surprises me much in this world now since finding out about the Kings, but it’s still a lot to take in.
“Wow,” I whisper out, rolling onto my stomach. I lean my head on the palm of my head and look up at him. He’s sitting up with his back leaning against the bedframe, but his legs are spread out in front of him.
“You have me at a disadvantage then,” I whisper, locking eyes with him. “I don’t know much about you.”
He snorts, leaning back, his ab muscles tensing as he does it. “Don’t take it to heart. No one knows anything about me.” He closes his eyes and reaches out. “Come here.” Two simple words but so commanding. I don’t fight it. I scoot up the mattress and snuggle into his warm, hard arms. His familiar scent starts to smell more like home and less like Bishop. Running the tip of my nose against his chest, I draw lines across his pec, over the tattoo that is inked into his skin. It’s an eagle, soaring freely. “This is cool.” I yawn.
He grunts. “Yeah, but I bet you could draw something better.”
That makes me smile. “I could.”
My eyes drop heavily, and I can slowly feel myself slipping into sleep.
“Will you draw one for me one day?” he asks in a tired voice. The sexiest sleepy voice I’ve ever heard. I sound like a man when I’m tired, so I clear my throat.
“Yes.”
He squeezes me into him softly, and just like that, I slip into a deep sleep.
Cool air drifts over my legs, goose bumps breaking out over my skin. I reach over blindly to grab the blanket when Bishop tosses and turns. “No!” he yells. I shoot up and look at him. Sweat is dripping over his skin, his arm thrown over his eyes. He starts punching his head. “No! Leave him alone. Leave her alone!”
“Bishop!” I grab onto his arm, wanting to stop his assault on himself. “Bishop? Shhhh….” Lava builds in my throat as tears threaten to surface. What’s he dreaming about?
“Bishop?”
“No! Leave him alone, leave him alone, leave her alone…!”
Rolling over, I straddle his waist, clearing the sweat from his chest. “Hey,” I whisper, leaning into his ear. “It’s me.”
His jaw clenches before he finally opens his eyes and looks straight at me.
“Hey,” I repeat, running my fingers down his cheeks and swiping away the sweat. “You okay?”
He stares at me, unmoving. It starts to get awkward, so I swing my leg off him but he clenches down on my thigh. I look back at him. “Bi—”
His fist comes to my hair and he wraps it around, pulling my face down to meet his.
“Well,” I mutter under my breath. “Good thing my graze in on my temple.”
I don’t say another word. I go with it. Something has happened, something inside his head, so I’ll do what I can to help. Kissing me, his tongue slips between my lips. I open my mouth wider, giving him more access. Gripping onto my thighs, he flips me onto my back and spreads my legs wide with his, pinning my arms above my head.
His eyes skim over the side of my head. “Are you good to go?” I know what he’s asking. He’s asking if I’m ready to fuck—fuck Bishop style.
“Yes,” I answer truthfully, because I am. Aside from a little headache, nothing else hurts, and if it does, whatever, I’ll pay for it in the morning, and I’m sure it’ll be worth it.
“Fuck,” he growls, his voice unrecognizable.
Looking over his face, his eyes slam closed as he pulls his bottom lip into his mouth. “Yes, Bishop,” I repeat softly. “I promise—no limits. I can take
