Page 119 of Bad Bishop

Precum gathered at my tip, and heat shot through my cock.Fuck.

“Excuse me.” I lifted my wife gently, placing her in my seat.

I strolled to the bathroom, the image of an unruffled prick. I bypassed the cabana near the dining room, choosing the bathroom on the other end of the first floor. I was about to slam the door behind me and tear my mickey off into the toilet when a small hand flattened against it.

Mywife.

She smiled cheerfully. “Enjoying dinner?”

I yanked her inside and locked the door behind us, then descended upon her mouth like it was water in a desert. She pulled away, looking me square in the eye.

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that until you promise me two things.”

I would promise her the president’s balls for dessert to get a kiss at this point.

Still, I didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. Only stepped back serenely, showing her that I could—and indeed would—resist her. “It’s cute when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like you have power in this marriage.”

Any other woman would hurl sharp objects at me at this point. Not Lila. She learned the game. And, although she was dealt a modest hand, she still made the most out of it.

“Don’t let your ego stand in the way of a good orgasm, Tiernan.”

I was going to indulge this nonsense, becauseshewas the one who gave me shit.

“What are your terms?”

“One—never use sex as a weapon against me,” she signed. “You don’t have to always touch me, but if you do, don’t leave me hanging intentionally. It’s disgusting and immature.”

I was getting schooled by an eighteen-year-old. One who handed me my own ass tonight and taught me a lesson.

Worst part was, I wanted to be my teacher’s pet.

“Acceptable,” I said laconically. “What’s your other demand?”

“Always tell me your plans. Where you’re going. Who you’re with.”

This posed more of an issue, since I sometimes visited high-risk places. I didn’t want her anywhere near them.

But I wasn’t ready for this thing between us to end.

Whatever it was.

“Fine,” I rasped.

She nodded, satisfied, and then, like a rabid badger, flung herself on me, planting wild kisses all over my face until she realized I was perfectly still. I waited. She stepped back. Glared at me with the prideful hurt only a gorgeous woman experiencing her first rejection could feel. Poor Lila.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve some demands of my own.”

“Okay.”

People probably speculated what we were doing away from the table, and it wasn’t playing chess with Vello’s bugged pieces.

“Never blue ball me again.”