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“Here’s the fiction section.” Edison scanned the rows until he got about midway and stopped. “Here’s Roth’s books.”
Bishop eased in close behind Edison while he picked up a paperback of a shadowed man on the cover holding a gun at his side while standing in front of closed door. The title was spelled out in bold red lettering but Bishop didn’t get a chance to try to sound it out before Edison flipped it over.
“This sounds good. It’s a four-book series of an assassin making his last stand.” Edison’s voice had dipped into that sensual, mellow narrator tone that drove Bishop crazy—and as if it came naturally to him—Edison began to read quietly to him what the series was about.
“A heated encounter in an airport in Dubai leaves international hitman X Meridian in a world he can no longer trust. Because now, someone’s taking out a hit on him… mmmm, Bishop. What are you doing?”
God, he couldn’t help it. Bishop had his arms around Edison’s waist, with his nose pressed against his neck, his lips dancing across his accelerating pulse. Edison just didn’t know what it did to him when he read to him. When he sounded like he did. When he pronounced those big words so easily. And how he’d pause in the suspenseful places to dangle Bishop on the edge before he continued. He’d wanted this for so long, to get lost in the pages of a book… but was too afraid to ask for help. Edison just did it without thought and it made him want to devour him. His heart raced to match Edison’s as he felt him lean farther into him despite his weak protest.
“Bishop, we shouldn’t in here… this is crazy,” Edison whispered.
“Keep reading,” Bishop commanded.
Edison glanced around to check if they were still alone in the aisle. Bishop didn’t want him concerned with anyone or anything else, only them. He pushed his hips closer, while he used one hand on Edison’s waist to hold him still. “Read,” Bishop murmured against Edison’s ear.
Edison shook beautifully in his arms, then did what he asked
“F-finding out who’d done it had him reconsidering digging up old skeletons from his past. He had to find out who’d taken out the contract on his head. Was it the man he’d left alive in Buenos Aires, or the ice beauty with the scorned heart who he still had desires for…?” Edison stopped again.
Bishop’s lips twitched when he felt Edison push back against him, forgetting about the book. “This does sound good. More,” Bishop said, his voice sounding like grit to his own ears. He slid his other hand inside Edison’s coat, around his waist so he could squeeze the supple flesh there. Edison tensed in his arms then relaxed when Bishop purred, “You feel good, baby.”
Edison’s soft breath was almost a whimper when Bishop kissed the base of his neck. “More, Eddie.”
“Oh god.” Edison cleared his throat then hefted the book in front of his face as Bishop kept up his caress. “It could’ve been his handler who’d taught Meridian how to kill. Hell, it could’ve just been an unnoticed enemy he’d crossed ages ago. Now the hunter has become the hunted and X Meridian will need some of his friends—even a couple of his enemies—if he wants to get out of the killing game alive.”
“All right, let’s get it.” Bishop nipped Edison’s earlobe and tried to back away, but Edison’s hand clamped down on his hip to stop him.
“More.” This time it was Edison’s turn to demand, to want, and Bishop would give him any fucking thing he asked.
“What Eddie? More what?”
“Touching… touch me.” Edison looked away when a dark blush worked across his cheeks and down his warm neck.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed.” Bishop turned Edison around and as soon as he did, he buried his face against Bishop’s throat. He wrapped his arm around Edison’s neck and whispered in his ear, “It’s my fantasy to make out in a bookstore.”
Edison looked up at him and chuckled quietly, “I think that’s every book nerd’s fantasy.”
“True.” Bishop pecked his lips but didn’t deepen the kiss when a man turned down the aisle. “We’ll need to come back here on a less busy day.”
“A Wednesday around seven is always dead,” Edison said on their way to checkout.
“Then it’s a date.” Bishop smirked.
~
“You want a drink?” Edison asked when they were in his house.
“Sure.” Bishop said, leaning against the kitchen island. Edison’s home was cool and most of the lights were off except for the warm glow from the stove light and a small night light in the hall, leading to the bedrooms.
Edison opened his refrigerator. “I have a couple more Guinness left, some tea, Pepsi, or—”
“Beer is good.” Bishop took the offered bottle and they both stood watching each other drink. He’d had a second to cool off after the bookstore, which was a good thing. He really did want to take his time with his unicorn, but he was waiting to see if Edison wanted to do more. Their night had been interesting, and he didn’t want to make any more mistakes so he was waiting… waiting on the green light. Edison had said they could just read, and if they did, Bishop would be fine with that. As long as Edison was in his arms, things seemed right in his world.
