Bishop Read online

  And that’s it.

  I’m out of the conversation.

  My mom launches into a story about me that’s slightly embarrassing but has Brooke laughing, so that’s okay. And the two of them don’t stop talking for two hours while we have a leisurely lunch.

  Two freaking, solid hours and I’m practically ignored the entire time.

  I fucking love it.

  Chapter 26

  Bishop

  “That’s enough, Brooke,” I growl, my head lifted off the pillow and neck muscles straining.

  “But is it really?” she purrs, leveling me with a wickedly killer smile that makes my balls ache.

  She’s giving me the fucking hand job of a lifetime and it might even rival her blow jobs. Her hand, which can’t quite close around my cock, is gripping me tight and jerking me hard and fast. Just how I fucking love it if I were to do it myself.

  I dig my heels into her mattress, lifting my hips off the bed, wanting to come and not wanting to come. She’s sitting back on her heels beside me, completely naked and utterly focused on what she’s doing to me. When she said she wanted to play a little bit, I wasn’t going to say no.

  But her play took a dark turn when she started getting a little rough, and I know I’m not going to last long if she keeps it up.

  Up and down she strokes, trying to tear the pleasure out of me.

  “Enough,” I bellow as I surge up and pull her hand off me.

  She grins and holds a finger to her mouth. “Shhh…you’ll wake Nanette up.”

  “Fuck Nanette,” I snarl as I grab Brooke around the waist and toss her down where I was lying just moments ago. I push her legs open and slide a finger inside of her. “Mmmm…wet, baby. Did jacking me off like that excite you?”

  She moans and nods, eyes glazing over while I work her with my fingers.

  In moments, I have her hips rotating. A few more, and she’s bucking against me, seeking that sweet release. I pull my hand away and she gives a cry of distress. I ignore it, leaning over to her bedside table where I stashed a gazillion condoms.

  Because my dick is hard as granite and standing straight at attention, the condom goes on easily.

  There’s no waiting. Brooke is soaked so I dive in, and…f-u-u-u-ck, nothing should ever feel this good. It should be immoral and against the law.

  I drop down onto her, pulling her legs up around my waist. Bringing my mouth to hers, I tease her lips open so I can taste her there. Absolute heaven.

  My hips move, start a leisure stroke, because I want to draw this out. I don’t want this night to end.

  I kiss her while I fuck her. Kiss and fuck. Fuck and kiss. Just Brooke claiming every bit of my senses.

  Her hands go to my head, sliding her fingers through my hair, and it causes prickles to race down my spine. I lift my mouth from hers, twist my neck, and push my head almost insistently into her hands. She gets the hint and grips my hair tightly, giving a tiny yank.

  “That’s it,” I praise her as I level her with a hot look. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I want you,” she says simply. “All of you. All the time.”

  “You have that,” I tell her, and then I wonder immediately, but forever? Do we have this forever?

  I don’t want to think about the what-ifs and can we have this or that. Not while I’m sunk deep into the sweetest, best thing I’ve ever had.

  Taking Brooke’s hands from my head, I lace my fingers through hers and pin them to the pillow on either side of her head. I push up, gain leverage, and start pumping harder inside of her. I concentrate on how fucking good she feels and it obliterates the doubts for now.

  “Harder, Bishop,” Brooke urges me, and I love the sound of my name rolling off her tongue. I kiss her to see if I can taste it and fuck her harder as requested.

  “I’m getting close,” she whispers.

  Me too.

  So fucking close, and when Brooke slams her eyes shut and groans, “I’m coming,” I let loose and fall right along with her.

  The roar that tears free from me is as relieving as the orgasm that ripples through me. Pressing my face into Brooke’s neck, I just release everything inside and let the bliss have its way with me.

  We played my former team, the New York Vipers, tonight in a hard-fought overtime battle. We came out victorious—over the team that let me go—and that wasn’t even the best part of my night.

  Not even close to the way I feel right now.

  “Wow,” Brooke murmurs as her hands stroke my lower back. Her legs are still wrapped tight around my waist and I could happily stay here forever.

  “Gets better and better, doesn’t it?” I ask her.

  “Yes, it does.” Her words are soft, washing over me in a way that makes me feel secure in what we have going on between us.

  Lifting up to peer down at her, I take note of her flushed cheeks and the still slightly glassy look in her eyes. I did that to her, and that’s definitely better than the win tonight. This is a startling revelation, because there’s never been anything more important to me than the win.

  Perhaps I’m maturing.

  Evolving.

  Perhaps it’s just Brooke.

  I bend down and kiss the tip of her nose. “Let me go get cleaned up.”

  “Okay,” she murmurs.

  Pushing up to my hands, I pull my very happy and very sated cock out of Brooke, holding the edge of the condom in place as I do so. My eyes flare as I realize what I’m seeing.

  My semen all over my dick and a hole about the size of a pea in the side of the condom.

  “Fuck,” I mutter as I pull all the way out.

  “What?” Brooke exclaims as she sits up. Her gaze falls down to stare at what I’m looking at. “Shit.”

  My gaze snaps to hers and I blurt, “I’m not ready to have a kid.”

  Because Brooke is Brooke, she smirks at me in return, and I’m immediately put at ease. “You’re adorable. The big, bad hockey player afraid of a teeny-weeny baby. But don’t worry, I’m on the pill. I’m not ready for a baby either.”

  “You are?” I ask, dumbfounded. And then it hits me what she just said. “Oh, thank fuck.”

  Rolling away from her, I flop down onto the mattress and let out a sigh of relief. Brooke laughs at me and I twist my neck to look at her. “If you’re on the pill, why the hell are we using condoms?”

  She shrugs. “Disease and pestilence?”

  “I don’t have any of that,” I tell her.

  “Me neither.”

  “Goodbye, condoms,” I practically chirp with a peppiness I wasn’t feeling a minute ago, and Brooke starts laughing.

  Fucking Brooke without a condom is going to be off-the-charts good, and I’m going to take a crack at it as soon as I get recharged in a bit. I did play a hockey game tonight and I am a bit tired.

  * * *

  —

  After I get cleaned up, I find Brooke under the covers wearing a tank top. I know she’ll have a pair of panties on. Sliding under the comforter, I turn to my side and study her face. She just stares back at me, hand tucked under her cheek, and it’s not awkward at all.

  “I really love your mom,” Brooke finally says, and my responding smile is automatic.

  “She’s great, isn’t she?”

  “Cherish her,” she replies, and I know she means don’t take a single minute for granted because she may be gone. Brooke talks about her mother often, as I imagine the memories of her are still so fresh since it’s been less than a year since she died.

  “Always,” I promise, leaning in to give her a kiss. I then roll back toward the bedside table as I tell her, “I have something for you. Two somethings, actually.”

  “Oh yeah?” she asks curiously. I pull open the drawer, and sitting beside the condoms that I’ll have to donat
e to Dax or something are two jewelry boxes. The gray one from my mom holding her engagement ring, and a square, flat black box with something I bought just for Brooke today. My mom and I went on a quick shopping trip after lunch and she helped me pick it out.

  “Come here,” I tell her as I roll back with both the boxes, and then hitch myself up so my back is against the headboard. Brooke’s eyes are on the boxes as she slides over and curls up against me.

  Setting the black box on my lap, I hold the gray one up and open the top. “It’s my mom’s.”

  “Oh, that’s so pretty,” Brooke murmurs as she reaches out to pluck the ring from its nest.

  “My mom brought it for you to wear, so you could show your dad we’re engaged and he can finally stop worrying. And don’t even think about saying no because it’s my mom’s. She really wants us to use it.”

  Brooke shakes her head before looking up at me. “I wouldn’t say no. I think it’s incredibly sweet and meaningful your mom would do that. I mean, I know she thinks we’re both jackasses for even getting embroiled in this mess, but I also think she’s amused by this too. She’s going to help us fumble through it as best she can, and this is her way.”

  “Exactly,” I say as I take the ring from her. I hold her left hand and slip it on her ring finger until it settles in place. I’m not prepared for the punch of emotion that hits me square in the chest at seeing it there. That ring that in normal circumstances would mean that Brooke belongs to me for the rest of our lives, and it’s not a horrifying feeling at all. If anything, it feels a little too right, and that will totally freak me out if I continue to think about it.

  Clearing my throat, I release her hand and pick up the black box. Handing it to her, I say, “This is for you.”

  “Why?” she asks as she takes the box from me.

  My eyes come to hers and I can see that she’s genuinely baffled that I would get her a present, and that doesn’t set well with me at all. Does Brooke not feel the same way as I do? Or perhaps she doesn’t understand at all how I feel?

  Which is understandable, because I don’t understand what I’m feeling either.

  I nod at the box, urging her to open it. “It’s because I think you’re amazing and I don’t need any other reason.”

  Brooke’s gaze stays pinned on me. She doesn’t make a move to open the jewelry box, and I start feeling like maybe this wasn’t a good idea. But then she leans in and presses a kiss to my jaw, murmuring, “I think you’re amazing too. And thank you for the gift.”

  Relief floods me and I give a nervous laugh. “You’re welcome, but you don’t even know what it is.”

  “Doesn’t matter what it is,” she says with a smile. “I’ll love it.”

  Fuck…chest squeezing painfully again.

  Brooke finally turns her attention to the box and lifts the lid slowly. Inside is a platinum bangle bracelet with the word fierce written in script on the top and outlined in tiny diamonds. It was not an inexpensive purchase, and Brooke would know this since she knows fashion and jewelry.

  She gasps. “Oh, Bishop…that’s way too much for a—”

  “Yeah,” I say dryly as I put a finger over her lips to silence her. “That’s not exactly what I want you to say.”

  Her eyes slide from the jewelry to me, eyebrows raised.

  “I want you to say, ‘Bishop…I love it and it makes me horny as well and I really want to do dirty things to you right now.’ ” I wink at her and move my finger from her lips.

  She doesn’t give me an eye roll but returns her attention to the bracelet. She pulls it from the box and slips it onto her left wrist. It fits perfectly and she holds it out to admire, turning her wrist this way and that, causing the diamonds to sparkle.

  When she looks back to me, she says, “It’s so beautiful, and baby…I really want to do dirty things to you right now.”

  Grinning, I pull her on top of me and she then proceeds to kiss the fuck out of me.

  Then she does really dirty things as well.

  Chapter 27

  Brooke

  Knocking twice on my dad’s office door, I wait just a second before opening it. My dad’s head is bent over a digital tablet, watching game video—most likely their upcoming opponents. The team flies east late this afternoon for a four-game road trip. I’ve got my suitcase packed and in the trunk of my car, and I’m actually really excited about this. Turns out, missing Bishop when he’s gone just really sucks.

  “Hey, kiddo,” he says as he looks up at me, then back to the tablet, pausing the video. “What’s up?”

  I step in and shut the door. I got into work early today knowing my dad would already be here in his office, doing whatever it is that great coaches do to make great teams.

  “Well, I wanted to share something with you,” I say hesitantly, my heart beating like a mad drummer on cocaine.

  “What’s that?” he asks, his voice immediately going on guard and his jaw setting tight.

  I give him a smile. “It’s not bad, I promise.”

  Stepping up to his desk, I hold my left hand out so he can see the engagement ring on my finger. “Bishop and I made it official last night and now you can stop worrying about it, sure that your little girl is exactly where she needs to be.”

  My dad’s eyebrows furrow slightly as he stares at the ring a bit more before slowly returning his gaze back to me. He seems flustered, perhaps a bit confused. He sort of stumbles over his words. “Well…that’s, um…good. I mean…great. It’s just a little…shocking.”

  “Shocking?” I ask him with a laugh as I lower my hand. “You’ve practically been breathing down Bishop’s neck about it. I thought it would make you happy.”

  Shaking his head, my dad turns on a smile and backpedals a bit. “Of course I’m happy. If you’re happy, that is.”

  “I am,” I assure him, and that’s the truth. My relationship with Bishop is crazy and twisted and on uneven ground, but I’m very happy right now.

  “Then that’s all that matters,” he says as he pushes up from his chair. He walks around his desk and pulls me into a hug. “I only want the best for you, honey.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I want the same for you.”

  When we break apart, I put my hand to his chest and ask, “How are you, Dad? I mean…how are you really doing? You work so much and I hardly see you, but—”

  “Brooke,” he says, cutting me off softly. “I’m really good, honey. I mean really. Taking this job, moving away from New York—I didn’t know it at the time, but I really needed it.”

  My body practically deflates in on itself, my relief in hearing that is so profound. “I’m so glad to hear that.”

  “I feel a little guilty, though,” he admits to me before turning back to his desk chair. I think putting the desk between us is a sign of his vulnerability right now.

  “You shouldn’t,” I tell him.

  “I feel like I’m leaving your mother behind.”

  “Never,” I tell him. “She’ll always be in your heart. Always.”

  He nods at me, but seems unsure whether or not that’s a truth he can accept. Regardless, he’s told me that he’s happy here, and that’s all that matters. He’ll still work through his grief, but at least he has things giving him joy right now, and that will help to make it bearable.

  When I return to the administrative offices, I’m still about five minutes early, so I take a moment to grab a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll from the vending machine in the break room. I’m never hungry when I first wake up, and then I’m starving by the time I get here. I keep telling myself to bring in something healthy to eat, but damn…those cinnamon rolls are so freaking good and I work out regularly, so I can afford some cheats a few days a week.

  I take my coffee and roll to my office, and while my computer boots up, I remove the plastic wrapper. It goes into the tras
h can and I lick the icing that got on my fingers, which is stupid, since I then just pick up the roll and get gooey stuff all over me.

  Just as I have my mouth open at its widest point to take a bite, there’s a quick knock on my door before it opens. Sebastian is standing there.

  I snap my mouth closed and drop the roll onto a napkin quickly using another to wipe off my fingers. It gets some of the gunk off, but they remain sticky.

  Shit.

  “Got a minute?” he asks me cordially.

  “Sure,” I say as I look left then right across my desk, looking for something to help me out here.

  Sebastian enters and sits in the only guest chair, tucked into the corner of my little office. He leaves the door wide open, and I bet that was intentional on his part. I think he took what Bishop said to him very seriously.

  I spy a half-empty bottle of water behind my computer screen and nab it. “I’m really sorry,” I explain to Sebastian as I open the top and pour some on my fingers while I hold them over my garbage can. “You caught me off guard just as I was getting ready to eat that cinnamon roll.”

  “No worries,” he says, and casually crosses one leg over the other. Today he’s wearing a beautifully tailored navy blue suit, white shirt, and a butter-yellow tie. His fashion sense is impeccable, but he also has a background in that field as well as merchandising.

  When I get my fingers cleaned off and dried, I turn in my chair to face him from across my desk. “So what’s up?”

  “I’d like to offer you a full-time job over in merchandising,” he says bluntly, and I’m so shocked I can only blink at him. “I’d put you over in the manufacturing side of it and it would involve some travel. You’d report directly to Charity Priest. It’s a slightly higher paying job and obviously, the upward mobility within the franchise is much greater than in team services.”

  I just stare at him.

  Blinking.

  Repetitively.

  Sebastian fidgets with his tie and laughs nervously. “Did you hear me, Brooke?”