Page 53

Bishop

She was trembling, and the desire to cover herself and run was clear in her expression. I released her hands and brushed a finger across the fading bruise just above her right breast.

“Another couple of days and it’ll be like it was never there.”

“Only on the outside.”

I met her gaze through the mirror. “On the inside, too.”

I took a step back and dragged a finger down her spine. She shivered.

“Time to decide what you want.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can walk out right now, and we stick with our initial plan. We’re leaving tomorrow, so there’s no need to keep pushing the pretense. Once we’re back in Glenville, I’ll continue to prepare everything you need to move on.” I lowered my head and kissed a path up her throat.

“Or,” I whispered against her ear, “we say fuck the initial plan and I wipe your ex-boyfriend out of your mind.”

My arm slid around her waist, and I pulled her back against me.

“What do you say, Songbird? Want to sing for me?”

In reply, she turned in my arms and pulled my head down to hers.

“What would you like me to sing?” Her lips touched mine.

“My name while I make you come.”

I lifted her off her feet and strode back into the bedroom. When I set her down and stepped away, the dress slipped the rest of the way down her legs to pool at her feet. She stepped out of it while I let my gaze roam over her. Most of the bruises I’d seen had faded, but the ones that remained stirred my anger.

No matter what she claimed about not wanting him to die, if I ever came face to face with Chester Dulvaney, I knew I’d come away with his blood on my hands—both literally and figuratively.

“Come here.” I reached behind her, tugged her hair loose from its braid and threaded my fingers through it. “Your hair is like fire.” I wound it around my hand and tugged her head back, arching her throat. “I find it incredibly distracting.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I backed her toward the bed and followed her down when her legs hit the mattress and she tumbled backward.

With one hand braced beside her head, I leaned over her. “You’ve been a distraction from the moment I opened the trunk of the car and found you inside.” I captured her lips with mine and untangled my fingers from her hair.

She moved beneath me, one leg lifting to hook around mine. Her fingers found the buttons on my shirt and popped them open, one by one. When it was hanging open, she ran her palms over my chest, and then gave me a gentle push.

I complied, rolling onto my back, and she climbed across me, straddling my hips, bracing her hands against my shoulders. I ran my fingers over her hip, following the lacy edge of her panties.

“Looks like you have me trapped,” I said.

“Looks that way.” She bent and pressed her lips to my chest. “Tallulah said something earlier tonight.” Her tongue flicked out and licked across my nipple.

I hissed, and my hand flexed on her hip.

“She said that the suits just hide who you really are.”

“Did she?”

“It makes me wonder …” Her head lifted.

“Wonder what?”

“What you become once the suit is off.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

She bit her lip and nodded.

I rolled, tumbling her onto her back and caught her hands, pinning them above her head and kissed her. Holding her wrists in one of my hands, I ran the other down her body, over the curve of her breast, her stomach, and down until my fingertips touched lace.

“If we do this, if I touch you like this,” I told her, “there’s no going back. You understand that, don’t you? It will change everything.”

“I know.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

Her hips arched, and my fingers slipped beneath the lace.

“Take off your suit, Bishop. Show me what lies beneath the mask.”