Last Mile

by Katie Ashley

  When Bishop stood up in the water, I followed his lead. His serious expression caused my stomach to twist anxiously. I expected at any moment for him to stalk out of the water and take me back to the roadhouse. But just as he always did, Bishop surprised me.

  “Look, Sam, there’s no denying the kind of man I am—a man whore, a slut, a womanizer.” He drew in a deep breath. “But maybe I’m looking to not always be considered that. Just like I have professional dreams, I have personal ones, too.”

  My chest tightened, and I fought to breathe. “You do?”

  He nodded. “I’ve never wanted to be like some of the older men in this club who are fifty and sixty years old and still fucking every piece of ass that moves. I want a home . . . a family. I want what my old man had with my mom before he threw it all away, only to regret it until the day he died. I want what Deacon and Rev have.”

  I didn’t know what to say. At that point, I wasn’t sure I could’ve said anything even if I wanted to. I just stared at him in utter awe. What must’ve been my bewildered look caused Bishop to laugh. “Guess I shocked you, huh?”

  After bobbing my head, I licked my lips. “It’s a good shock, though.”

  “Really?”

  I smiled. “Yeah, it is. I would have to be a bitter shrew not to be affected by what you just said.” I brought my hands out of the water to cup his cheeks. “You deserve for all your dreams to come true, especially the one for a family.”

  “Thank you,” Bishop murmured. He pulled me into his arms. Our wet skin fused us together, chest to chest and heart to heart. After staring into my eyes for a few seconds, Bishop brought his warm lips to mine. I moaned into his mouth. Damn, the man could kiss. It was like a lightning bolt of tingling electricity from the top of my head down to my toes. As his tongue thrust into my mouth, I ran my hands up his broad back, my fingertips trailing over the corded muscles.

  In that moment, I abandoned all thoughts of Gavin and the case that had preoccupied me for so long. On a physical level, I wanted to be with Bishop for what he could give my body, not what I could do to him or to advance my career. But then I also wanted to be with him for who he was on the inside—the kindness, the tenderness, and the good heart he consistently revealed to me. The lines were once again blurring, but it felt too good being with him to give a shit about the consequences.

  When Bishop’s hand slid up my waist to cup my breast, I broke the kiss. “I thought we came out here to swim,” I panted.

  “Nah, that was just a ruse so I could get you out here to fuck again,” Bishop replied as he started kissing down my neck and onto my chest.

  With a laugh, I said, “At least you’re honest.”

  Bishop grinned up at me. “I take fucking very seriously.”

  “Mmm, lucky me,” I said as Bishop’s mouth closed over my nipple. As his tongue swirled around and around the hardened tip, my head fell back. When he kissed and licked a trail over to the other nipple, I opened my eyes to take in the blackened sky scattered with shimmering stars. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect setting to be with someone—it was beautiful and illicit and romantic all at once.

  “I think it’s time we took this to the shore,” he said.

  “But it feels so good in the water,” I protested.

  With a chuckle, Bishop replied, “Yeah, it does feel pretty fucking amazing, but I’m never going to hold any wood in this cold water.”

  I snorted at his honesty. “Then by all means get us out of here.”

  Bishop cupped my buttocks and hoisted me up to wrap my legs around his waist. He then started walking us out of the water. The cool night air rushed over my wet skin, raising goose bumps along my arms and legs. When we got to the edge of the bank, he started easing me down onto the blanket of grass. The long blades pricked the skin along my back.

  “Have you ever fucked under the stars?” he asked as he loomed above me.

  “No. I think it’s safe to say you’re taking my rustic sex virginity tonight with all the outdoor sex.”

  Bishop laughed. “I’m honored.” When I reached to pull him down beside me, he gave a shake of his head. “One sec.”

  I moaned in protest when he rose off me. He went over to our pile of clothes and dug another condom out of his wallet. Rising onto my elbows, I cocked my head at him. “I’m glad to see you carry so much protection on you at all times.”

  He at least had the presence of mind to give me somewhat of a sheepish look. “Yeah, well, it never hurts to be prepared,” he mumbled as he tore into the wrapper.

  “I’m just glad I get to benefit from your preparation,” I teased.

  He sank down beside me on the grass before rising onto his knees. With both hands he shoved my legs wide apart. “Speaking of preparation, I think it’s time I got you ready to take me.”

  With a giggle, I said, “What you meant to say was ready to take that giant cock of yours, right?”

  A wicked grin flashed on his face. “Damn straight.”

  I winked at him. “Then do what you have to do.”

  Before I knew it, Bishop had buried his face between my legs, causing a loud shriek of pleasure to escape my lips. I pinched my eyes shut and let the feelings overtake me as he licked and sucked my clit. Not only could the man kiss, but he was a god when it came to going down on a woman. He didn’t even need to add his fingers to have me writhing on the grass, cursing repeatedly and calling out his name. His mouth, and especially his tongue, was all he needed. Over and over, it lapped at my soaked center, darting in and out of me, sliding along my clit.

  The pleasure seemed to go on and on because just as I would get close to coming, Bishop would pull away, letting the high build over and over again to where I thought I would eventually pass out. Finally, when he felt I’d had enough, he let me come. Never had I let a man take over or let myself be controlled. Never. But how glad I was to let him do what he truly did best.

  Just as the last aftershocks of the orgasm flowed through me, Bishop rose between my legs. He then thrust hard inside me, stretching and filling me. “Jesus, you feel amazing,” he muttered as he set up a punishing rhythm. I wrapped my legs around his back, drawing him deeper inside me. My hips rose and fell with his thrusts. I was just about to come again when he stopped.

  “What are you—” I started to ask, but Bishop silenced me by kissing me. His tongue darted into my mouth, and I tasted myself on him. Slowly, he pulled his hips back to thrust deeply back into me. “Jesus,” I murmured. While the hard and fast fucking had been amazing, this was even better. I could feel every delicious inch of him as he worked in and out of me. But more than that, it was the way his mouth and tongue mirrored the actions of his hips and his dick. Although I didn’t want to think about it, what we were doing now was more like making love than fucking or having sex. The fact that we were outside in a blanket of grass and under the stars made it all the more romantic.

  He pulled away from kissing me to stare into my eyes. I couldn’t remember a time I had felt more connected with a lover. It was so intense that I finally had to close my eyes and bury my face in the crook of his neck. Anything to not focus on the feelings ricocheting through me.

  Bishop’s breath warmed against my ear. “Open your eyes, Sam.” When I dared to look at him, he smiled. “I want to be looking in your eyes when you come.”

  “Did you really just say that?” I demanded before I could stop myself.

  Bishop’s movement within me stilled. “It wasn’t some sort of line. I really meant it.”

  “I know you meant it, and that’s the problem.”

  He dipped his head to nip my bottom lip with his teeth. “Woman, you’re not making any sense.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” I whispered.

  Bishop’s expression told me he understood exactly what I meant. “Stop overanalyzing it and just feel.”

  “Okay.”

  Without another word, Bishop started thrusting slowly inside me again. I kept my eyes on his. I
even kept them open when he dipped his hand between us to stroke my clit to make me come. As my walls clenched around him, I still kept my eyes on his. I didn’t know when I had ever felt something more, physically and emotionally.

  A few more thrusts had Bishop groaning and coming inside me. He broke eye contact only when his head came down to kiss me. When he was finished, he eased out of me, took off the condom, and tossed it aside. Although there was so much I wanted to say and to ask him, there were no words between us. I just let the feelings of contentment and extreme satisfaction wash over me.

  Instead, I allowed Bishop to roll me onto my side in the grass. I couldn’t hide my surprise when he spooned up beside me. I had never imagined him being one for after-sex cuddling. He seemed way more like the wham-bam kinda guy. It was just another one of the many contradictions of his character. “Knew it would be incredible with you,” Bishop whispered, which caused my heart to swell in my chest.

  Lying there in the grass, I felt so safe and protected with his arms wrapped around me and our legs tangled together. I closed my eyes, a contented sigh escaping my lips as I let myself fall asleep beside the man who had started off as my enemy.

  Sunlight streaked across my face, waking me from a deep sleep. As I started to stretch, I realized I wasn’t alone. A man’s arm was draped over me with his hand cupping my breast. It hit me like a ton of bricks that I wasn’t in the warmth and safety of my bedroom at home. Instead, I was naked and waking in a bed of overgrown grass. I had slept with Bishop. Actually, I had slept with him twice if I was counting. The delicious soreness between my legs reminded me how good it had been with my well-endowed partner. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had such a memorable sexual experience, least of all with a guy whose dick was big enough to leave a reminder the day after.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I eyed Bishop, who was still dead to the world. A smile teased my lips at the sight of him. He appeared almost baby-faced with a shock of hair falling across his forehead. I had to fight the urge to reach out and curl it around my finger. His broad chest rose and fell with his labored breaths. In the daylight, I got a better look at all his tattoos. Normally, I didn’t find them too attractive on men, but there was something about the way they looked on Bishop that made all the difference.

  My aching muscles moaned in agony as I pulled myself to a sitting position. Sleeping on the ground, coupled with an intense fuck-fest, had left me feeling physically as if I had been run over by an eighteen-wheeler. Emotionally, I felt almost as beaten up. While I didn’t regret sleeping with Bishop, I felt overwhelmed with emotional turmoil. The more time I spent with Bishop and the Raiders, the less I could paint them as the villains I once thought them to be. There had to be something I was missing—something that made them worthy of being a target of the bureau.

  Lying back down, I brought my hand to Bishop’s face. I ran my thumb over his full bottom lip. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

  At my touch, Bishop began to stir. His eyelids fluttered, and then he stared up at me. His bright blue eyes widened in disbelief as they moved from me to the clearing and then back to me. “Oh fuck,” he muttered, and then rolled away from me.

  “Wow, that’s not the reaction I expected,” I mused aloud as I tried not to sound as hurt by his rebuff as I was.

  Bishop groaned as he sat up. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” I asked.

  “Everything,” Bishop muttered.

  I rose to sit beside him. “Would you please tell me what is going on in that head of yours besides morning-after remorse?”

  Cutting his eyes over at me, Bishop exhaled painfully. “I’m a fucking bastard.”

  My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

  “Jesus, Sam, last night it all felt so right, but now in the light of day . . .” He ran a hand over his face. “I thought I was going to be able to handle it—to not let it bother me. But it does. Fucking hell, it does.”

  I reached out to tentatively touch his cheek. “Bishop, you’re not making any sense.”

  His eyes closed in agony as he said, “Marley.”

  While I had expected Bishop to bring Gavin up, it was still hard to hear his name come off Bishop’s lips. It took me back to another grassy clearing—the one where I had held Gavin as he died. Thinking about Gavin caused my heart to ache. I couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath or the pain that hit between my ribs. I looked out at the lake before trying to find my voice.

  Before I could, Bishop continued. “Even though Marley wasn’t a patched brother, I broke a cardinal rule last night. You don’t fuck a brother’s girlfriend or old lady.” He opened his eyes and stared at me. “That’s why I’m a fucking bastard.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re too good a man to ever be a fucking bastard.”

  “Before Marley died, I wanted you. It wasn’t just about wanting to fuck you—it was about wanting us to have what you had with Marley. After he died, I still wanted you, and I’m a heartless bastard for making a move on you.”

  “Bishop, it’s okay. There was nothing wrong with what we did last night.”

  “Oh hell yes, there was. And as long as I still possess a small fucking bit of decency, it ain’t ever happening again.”

  My heart shuddered in my chest. There were so many implications that went along with his declaration. “You don’t mean that.”

  “I sure as hell do. I’m pissing on Marley’s memory every time I think about fucking you or when I put my hands on you or my dick in you.” He swallowed hard, and it looked as though he was trying to fight back the tears that threatened in his eyes. “I know you’re sick with grief about losing him, and I took advantage of you. But I promise you don’t have to worry about it happening ever again.”

  Sick with grief. Yes. Absolutely. But I had to stop this train of thought. “You’re wrong. I knew exactly what I was consenting to last night,” I argued.

  “That’s what you think right now. But what about later on when it sinks in what we did? You’ll hate me for letting things go on.”

  “There’s nothing to sink in. I wanted to have sex with you last night. I want to have sex with you again. But more than the sex, I like you, Bishop.”

  Bishop’s forlorn expression lightened a little. “You do?”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  He appeared momentarily happy at my admission, but then his face clouded with worry again. “But Marley—”

  “Is gone, but we’re both here.”

  Bishop shook his head. “He was my friend. I can’t do that to him . . . or to his memory.”

  When he pulled himself up off the grass, I knew he was serious. At the crux of his being, Bishop was honorable, and even though he would hate to do it, he would cut me out of his life. I couldn’t let him do that. I needed to stay a part of his world. While I had to admit that a part of it would be for the case, I knew more than anything I needed to stay for how I felt about Bishop. Which confused the hell out of me.

  There was only one thing to do. It felt as dangerous as flinging myself off a cliff. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

  As I glanced up at the sky, I could almost hear Gavin saying, Ah, go on and out me, Vargas. I’m dead. What harm can it do?

  Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I stood up. “Look, I need to tell you something about Marley—something that might change everything you think about him.”

  “What do you mean?” Bishop asked as he jumped into his jeans.

  “I was never Marley’s girlfriend.”

  Bishop’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you saying?”

  “Marley was my friend, and I would do anything in the world to help him when he needed me. When he started hanging around with you and wanting to be a part of the MC world, he needed me to be his girlfriend.”

  An expression of disbelief came over Bishop’s face. “You weren’t his girlfriend?”

  “No.”

/>   “You guys were never a real couple?”

  “No. Just the very best of friends.”

  After I braced myself for Bishop’s wrath, he merely shook his head. “Just tell me one thing.”

  “Okay.”

  “Why the hell would he ask you to do something like that?”

  “Because Marley was gay.”

  FIFTEEN

  BISHOP

  There are moments in life when you have the rug unceremoniously jerked out from under you, sending you crashing down onto your fucking ass. This moment felt like that feeling except hyped up on steroids. Dumbfounded, I just stood there, frozen in disbelief like a fucking statue or something. I guess Samantha realized the level of shock I was in, because she once again said, “Marley was gay.”

  I blinked as I tried processing what she had just repeated. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

  “No, Bishop. I’m not.”

  Throwing my hands up wildly, I said, “Then you’re just telling me Marley was gay so I’ll keep dating you.”

  Samantha rolled her eyes at me before she snatched her dress off the ground and jerked it over her head. “Wow, you have one hell of an inflated ego if you think I would do that, not to mention that I would have to be pretty fucking psychotic to make something like that up just to keep you.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry. That was stupid of me to think, least of all say out loud.”

  “Damn straight,” she snapped as she slid on her panties.

  Needing to say the words aloud, I said, “Marley was gay.”

  Samantha’s reply of “Yes” came as an angry hiss.

  “Fucking hell,” I muttered as I began pacing around the clearing. Speaking those three little words was life-altering. If what Samantha said was true, it changed everything between the two of us. It erased everything I had been beating myself up over, except the guilt of Marley’s death.