Page 5 of Big Dog (Lonesome Garage #2)

Chapter Five

H anging upside down over Bishop’s shoulder, I have a great view of his ass. For the first time ever, I don’t care. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Dobermann?”

“Taking you someplace where you can’t cause any more problems.”

“I wasn’t causing problems. You were. Put me the fuck down.”

He moves like a man on a mission. His long stride eats the pavement as he crosses the bar and grill’s parking lot. “Not until we talk.”

“Your drunk ass better not think it’s getting behind the wheel,” I shout.

I kick to no avail. It’s my own fault. Self-defence is a lot less effective when you trust a person enough to let them get close to you.

When Bishop grabbed me, he pinned my legs.

There’s not a lot I can do with no leverage and no weapon.

The worst I can accomplish is to aim a two-fisted punch at his kidney.

When that fails, I yank on his belt and try to give him an atomic wedgie.

I’m not proud. I’m pissed that I’m so ineffectual.

Bishop bypasses his truck and heads for the garage next door. “Friends don’t kidnap other friends, dude!”

“I don’t want to be your friend,” he yells back.

I have to keep my head down when we go through the door at the back of the building.

I stay still as Bishop mounts a flight of stairs to the space above the office.

I’ve never been up here. I don’t really have time to look around before he unceremoniously dumps me, and I fall onto a couch.

“Then be my fucking enemy, I don’t care. Just stop with this bullshit.”

“I don’t want to be your enemy either.”

“Then what do you want?” I ask.

I’m not prepared when he kneels in front of me to give me his answer. “Everything.” He lowers his hands until his fingertips brush the hem of my skirt.

“You are worried about our age difference.”

His voice is rough when he says, “You’re not, and I shouldn’t be making decisions for you.”

I like this answer. I like the fact that Bishop now knows today’s undies are made of lace better. “You said Deacon would disapprove.” The last syllable comes out on a gasp as his touch finds my skin, hot and wanting.

“Deacon who?”

Cool air hits my hips as Bishop slides my skirt up to my waist. I look down at his hands and cover them with mine. “Slow down, big guy. I’m not having casual sex with you.” The words catch in my throat. I want to be more than a quick fuck.

He leans forward to drop a quick kiss on my neck. His breath is hot and damp against my skin. “There is nothing casual about this. I haven’t gotten you out of my head since the night Russo attacked you. Then you invited me over for dinner and offered me the world. Now I’m saying yes.”

“Do you think I should let you just change your mind?”

His thumbs pull the sides of my panties tight before he yanks them down. “How about I convince you?” Then Bishop fucking Dobermann goes to town going down on me.

His tongue takes little licks of my waxed pussy.

The fire is unbelievable. I try to squirm, but his massive hands hold me in place.

When his fingers slide under my ass to lift me to a better position, my head falls back, and I stop pretending like I have any control left.

I thread my fingers into his thick hair, not to guide him anywhere specific but to hold on for the ride.

The little licks become laps. It takes seconds for my orgasm to hit. I reward him with a full body shiver.

“Now that we’re on the same page, it’s my turn,” Bishop says.

His magic fingers move. Suddenly, he’s standing.

A second later, his belt flaps and his jeans are unbuttoned.

Foil crinkles, and the heat of his thighs against mine moves for a second while he rolls on the condom.

I twist on the sofa and he’s on top of me. “Tell me you’re ready,” he orders.

“Absolutely, Bishop. Please,” I beg.

His thick cock feels even better than it looks as it slides into my heat, which was especially impressive since it looked like one out of a dream.

He braces one leg on the floor as he glides in and out, letting me get used to him, but the friction starts to build something else and soon I’m gasping again.

Bishop pumps harder and I hang on for dear life.

‘Magnificent,” he whispers as he buries his face in my neck.

I want a man who knows how to fuck, and Bishop Dobermann has a goddamn masters in the subject.

He grinds against me on the downstroke and hits the spot exactly.

I clench all over. Bishop stills for a fraction of a second, then groans as he moves and finishes. “Fuck me, Romy.”

He freezes again when he pulls out. “Oh, shit.”

I haven’t been concerned about anything till that second. “What?”

“The condom split.”

“Do I have anything to worry about? Because I’m also on the pill.

” I say. I was on antibiotics for a while, which urban legends says may make the pill less effective for a time.

But according to the medical sites I checked a couple weeks ago when I had tried unsuccessfully to seduce Bishop, it should have been long enough for it to kick back in.

At this point, I’m ninety-nine percent sure I’m fine, which is as effective as the pills are anyway.

“I’ll switch brands,” he says. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

I scoot upright when he comes out of the bathroom. “My turn.” When I return to the small living room after cleaning up, Bishop is standing, facing the bathroom door. “Not that this wasn’t terrific, but I need to know. What just happened?” I ask.