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He bends forward at the waist, pressing his palms to the floor, his eyes dropping so he can no longer see me.

I hate not being in his line of sight and move closer to him, grabbing his face and leveling it with mine when he goes to stand back up.

Being bold isn’t exactly something I’m used to being. I let guilt and shame keep me from speaking up when Mrs. Brunello told me she was taking Ryder. I should’ve argued then. I should’ve demanded she return him to me. I was weak, and look where it got me?

Clinging to that recklessness I felt on the drive home, I press my lips to his. Our eyes are locked, his filled with shock, mine filled with challenge.

It doesn’t take long before I feel his hands at my waist, his lips parting so I can do what I just wasn’t in the right headspace to do last night.

At the first brush of his tongue over mine, I realize as much as I wanted to be, I’m not going to be in control of this situation much longer.

Chapter 30

Bishop

The arguments in my head begin to fade the second her mouth is on mine. Her taking the initiative to walk up and plant her mouth on mine without a word shouldn’t thrill me the way it does. It shouldn’t have the power to quiet all those warnings I’ve been hyper focused on all damn day.

Yet the buzz in my brain softens, arousal and need taking its place.

I know how much going further with her not only complicates my life, but it also has the power to change things in hers as well.

“This is probably a bad idea,” I mutter against her mouth, but it doesn’t keep my hands from roaming all over her body.

She whimpers when I cup her breast over her clothes, and God I wish we were skin to skin.

I open my mouth to offer backing off one more time, but her nails rake down the front of my chest, and it’s over for me.

She’ll have to be the one to pump the brakes.

I wrap my arm around her waist with every intention of moving us to a bed, but then her hands are shoving at my sweats. I’ll be damned if we aren’t going to fuck right here on the damn floor.

She reaches for me, her hands insistent when I try to pull my lips away. Her neediness prevents me from pulling her top all the way off, so I just shove her shirt up and unsnap her bra.

It’s clear what she needs, but I can’t deny myself either.

I break the kiss, my head dipping, my lips wrapping around the hardened tip of one breast.

Her moan is filled with pleasure and surprise.

“Brent,” she whispers, her hands pulling a little painfully at my hair.

I pull back, my breaths ragged. Her pupils are dilated with arousal, her chest heaving just as much as mine is.

The look in her eyes is nothing like the one she was giving me last night. She’s not exactly putting an end to this, just showing me she needs a breather.

“What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head.

“Something,” I argue.

I don’t want this to happen if she’s only doing it out of some misplaced obligation.

“I want this,” she says, her eyes locked on my mouth. “I want you.”

I take her at her word, shoving her scrub bottoms and underwear down, waiting impatiently as she kicks her sneakers off.

Like a wild animal, with my sweats around my calves, I lift her, grateful for the exercises I’ve been doing that have made me strong enough to hold her up.

She instinctively wraps her legs around my waist, her hips rolling that hot, slick slit of hers against my cock.

I pull back, my body remembering exactly how this is done. Her eyes widen, her mouth dropping open when I enter her.

Jesus, the sight of her makes my knees weak.

I hold her against my chest and do my best not to dislodge her as I slowly lower us to the floor.

I almost fuck up when the sweats around my ankles restricts my movements, but she never gasps. Not even for a second does she think she’s in danger of falling while in my arms. It makes me want to pound my chest in the way a gorilla does to let everyone around know that he’s the king of the fucking jungle, and anyone who thinks differently is wrong.

“Fuck,” she snaps, my cock pulsing in need at her filthy mouth.

More often than not, she’s prim and proper, hiding behind that fake smile of hers. I sort of love the fact that she has no other recourse right now but to act exactly how her body is telling her to.

“Am I hurting you?” The grip of her pussy is out of this fucking world, and it takes literal concentration right now to pull back out and shove into her over and over.

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