With a slow hiss, Tilly relaxed and was grateful the stools had cushiony leather tops. She needed all the softness she could get for a while. The sound of a glass bottle thumped onto the bar between her and her new friend, and then two magical shot glasses appeared.
“Got limes?” she asked sheepishly.
“Yeah, absolutely.” The bartender said, “You uhhh, you sure you’re going to be okay?”
Tilly saw how nervous he was. “Look, I’m not going to sue the place if that’s what you’re worried about. I fell. I’m clumsy. It’s fine. Can we just stop talking about it? The sooner I forget, the happier my night will be.”
The bartender nodded and left to serve beer to another patron. Mr. Leather Jacket poured her a shot of tequila and held a dish of limes for her to pick from. “Thanks,” she whispered.
Rude as it was, she didn’t wait for him before she pounded her shot. With a knowing smile, he poured her another. She downed that one too.
“I’m Bishop by the way.”
“Tilly.” Annnd down went the third shot. This time, without the lime chaser.
They sat in silence for a while. She was too embarrassed and sore to talk much.
“Matilda Jane Sinclair! Matilda Jane Sinclair!” A woman with a clipboard walked around loudly announcing, “You’re up next!”
Tilly grabbed the bottle of tequila and poured a fourth. She stared straight ahead and didn’t answer the woman calling out her name. No way was she going up on that stage after what just happened. Her fall wrecked every ounce of courage she had.
Tilly and her new friend Bishop sat next to each other, both staring at nothing special, both not speaking to each other. It was almost time for open mic to start, but she wasn’t getting up unless it was to leave this place and never show her face here again. Music blasted through the speakers, Man in the Box by Alice in Chains got the crowd warmed up. Bishop, she noticed, stiffened when the song started. Then he got extra thirsty and poured a double. Twice.
She cut herself off after the fifth shot and sat there trying to figure out if she should leave or not. Oddly though, sitting next to Bishop made her feel good. Orrrr maybe it was the tequila. Whatever. Tilly relaxed and leaned her elbows on the bar, twisting and testing out how bad her back hurt.
Bishop kept his gaze straight ahead while he sucked on a lime. She liked that they could sit and not talk but still share a bottle. It made her less self-conscious and a lot more comfortable to be around a guy so… intimidating. Like, seriously, this man wasn’t just hot, he was dangerous hot. Dressed in leather, he had a few visible piercings and tattoos were all over his hands and neck. He looked like trouble and Tilly loved walking on the dangerous side.
“Can I ask you a question, Tilly?”
“Sure. Just make it personal, I hate small talk.”
He smiled and continued staring straight ahead. “Do you ever think about death?”
“Every. Single. Day.” Maybe that was a morbid question for some folks, but not Tilly. Oh no. She and Death were in a relationship of sorts. A toxic one.
“Do you fear it?” he asked, shoving the bottle away.
“I refuse to fear that which cannot be stopped. It’s futile.”
He turned and pinned her with steely blue eyes. “That’s not much of an answer.”
“Tilly!” A woman huffed as she pushed through the crowd and headed straight for her. “Oh my god! Did I miss it? Did you already go on?” Vivian, her sister, was a flustered hot mess. Her pencil skirt was crooked, her blouse half-untucked, and her bun was loose.
“No Viv, you didn’t miss it. I’m not going on tonight.”
“What? Why?”
“It was nice to meet you, Tilly,” Bishop stood and paid their tab. She noticed his hands shook something awful when he pulled out two one-hundred-dollar bills and slapped them onto the bar.
“Thanks,” she said, not really wanting him to go.
“My pleasure,” he dipped his head, silently saying good-bye and then he turned and melted into the crowd.
“Who was that sweet slice of yum?”
“Just some guy.” Tilly’s stomach ached and she wasn’t sure if it was because Bishop disappeared so fast, or if it was from the tequila. Probably the tequila.
Or maybe not.
“Hang on.” Tilly got up and grunted with how much her ass and back didn’t like that idea. She half-hobbled through the crowd and found Bishop standing three feet away from the speakers as the first band on stage sang some heavy metal cover song. “BISHOP!” Tilly yelled over the growing noise.
Bishop turned and pinned her with another steely blue gaze. God, how can a man look so intense? So delectable? Shut up, tequila! Stop talking!
The crowd shoved and crushed against her and Bishop immediately reached out to steady her again. “You okay?” he yelled over the music.
She nodded. Then, with tequila driving her crazy train, she threw caution to the wind and slung her arms around him. Falling into his body, she pressed her mouth to his and kissed him.
He wrapped his arms around her and the smell of leather and tequila went straight to her head. He deepened the kiss as a rumble vibrated between them and she didn’t know if it was the music or him. Suddenly, she was starved for more. Sinking her hands into his sandy brown hair and grabbing some of it, she swept her tongue across his. He tasted soooo good.
Bishop’s body responded instantly. His tongue slid across hers and he pressed against her body. Good God, the man was all muscle and built for sin and pleasure and all the fun in between naughty and nasty.
She breathed him in. Her body set on fire. Then Tilly broke away because she realized if she didn’t stop now, she wasn’t going to and they’d both wind up getting arrested for indecent exposure. Hand-to-God, even as she pulled back, Tilly ripped at his clothes just to touch his bare skin. Bishop rocked back on his heels and continued to stare at her – lust and confusion warring on his handsome face. Guess she wasn’t the only one wanting to walk on the wild side tonight.
But she had her sister here with her and ditching Vivian wasn’t an option. No matter how good of an excuse Bishop looked like right now. Unsure of what to do next, Tilly winked, “Thanks for making my night better,” then she turned and walked away.
He grabbed her hand, yanked her back and crushed his mouth to hers again. This time, he ran his hands through her hair and grabbed her ass. Grinding his hips into her, she felt how hard he was… everywhere. He broke away and smiled. “Howl for me.”
“Wh-what?”
“Howl. Right now.”
“Like a wolf?”
“Yeah,” he grinned, “like this.” He tossed his head back and let out with a howl that was more animal than man. It was all she heard – the music, the crowd, the noise around them faded into the background. She had eyes and ears only for Bishop - the hotty in leather with a pierced nostril and devilish smile.
Tilly had two lists in her life: A Bucket List and a Fuck It List.
She laughed, too drunk on tequila to care, and said, “Fuck it.” She gave him her best howl.
Bishop ate her alive with his gaze, too. His smile was more intoxicating than the booze and it made her giddy. “Again, Tilly.”
She howled louder the second time, lost her balance and stumbled backwards into someone. Bishop snatched her arm and brought her in close again. “You howl like that if you ever find yourself in need.”
“In need? Like of help? What, is that supposed to be your bat signal?”
“Just howl if you need me.” Bishop looked behind her and nodded once, “Your friend’s looking for you.”
Tilly turned to see Vivian weave through the crowd looking like a prima ballerina. “That’s my sister and she can wait, I want to get—” Tilly turned back but Bishop was gone, “your number.”
“Damnit!” Vivian cursed, “I broke my favorite heel.” She frowned and took her other shoe off, “Fuck it.” She went barefoot. “What the hell, Tilly?”
“What?”
“You just ditched me!”
“I wanted to grab Bishop before he disappeared.”
Vivian looked around and then cocked an eyebrow, “So where is he?”
“I’m…. not even sure.” Tilly’s shoulders slumped and the taste of tequila in her mouth was starting to not taste too good anymore. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Damnit girl, come on.” Vivian helped Tilly get outside and into fresh air. “Let’s get home. We’re going to freeze to death out here.”
Do you ever think about death? Do you fear it? Bishop’s voice echoed in her head. Yes, she thought. She feared death and was fearless of life.
Curses had a habit of making one complicated like that.
Chapter 3
Bishop hung back and watched Tilly get into a car with her sister. They looked nothing alike. One was curvy and strawberry blonde. The other was a stick with dark hair. Tilly wore jeans and a simple top, her sister looked like a librarian with a tight bun and skirt. The only similarity was their uncanny way of stopping the world from spinning. Vivian caught the attention of half the crowd when she walked around The Blue Lizard looking for her sister. She was stunning, he’ll give her that, but Vivian had nothing on Tilly. Damn, but that woman had an ass that could bring a man to his knees. Plus, her attitude was fucking spectacular. He liked a woman with some meat on her. Bonus points for her aggressiveness by the stage when she’d kissed him.
Bishop rubbed the back of his neck as he turned and left The Blue Lizard.
Matilda Jane. Not a very common name nowadays. “Tilly,” he rolled the syllables off his tongue, testing it, savoring it.
That was too cute and sweet of a name for a woman who kissed like she was trying to set the whole goddamn world on fire. Hand-to-Satan, Bishop was floored when she approached him by the speakers and threw herself on him like that.
She owned the moment. Took what she wanted and said fuck it to the rest. Grabbed life by the balls and gave it a good tug. Bishop could totally get down with a woman with that kind of attitude. And yeah, he’d let her tug his balls all she wanted.
The only reason he didn’t scoop her up and take her home was because he was too sexed up and unbalanced. Being a Hell Hound had its perks, but came with obligation and burdens. Being so off-kilter right now meant Bishop was weak with his self-control and clarity. If he fucked her right now, he would be more animal than man in bed. Not many women out there could handle his level of passion on a good day, but with his imbalance dictating most of his moves right now, he could absolutely hurt her by accident and he wasn’t going to let that happen. And, he didn’t want to take her home to the place where he’d killed people.
That kind of thing left a mark – on the house and the soul. He didn’t want to bring a special woman like Tilly into such darkness. It didn’t matter that the carpet was light gray, the walls a linen white, or that there wasn’t a lick of evidence left of what he’d done. He couldn’t bring a woman into a house that once held such horrors.
Ghosting, he ran across the street, through all the traffic, and reached his truck parked in the ally. Hitting the button on his fob, he unlocked his Land Rover and slid in. After pulling away, he scanned the area and took off down the road blasting Shinedown’s State of My Head.
Twenty minutes later, he pulled up to his pack’s grand manor. Their house was gigantic. Each Hound needed their own space because they hated being on top of each other. The twelve thousand square feet stack of bricks was a lovely fit for their needs when they moved to this territory.
Valor was already home. Shit, he didn’t want to face his alpha right now. Val would see he hadn’t unfucked himself yet.
Funny, even though he hadn’t done a damned thing to get better, his quiet time with Tilly was enough to turn the screaming in his head down to a bearable volume, which was odd since they barely spoke at the bar. She just had a good vibe to her and it sank into him. That woman let shit roll off her back and didn’t dwell. She barely sulked with embarrassment after having fallen down the steps in front of a big crowd.
Christ on a cracker. He was sorry to have missed it. Had he seen her stumble, Bishop could have moved fast and caught her before she reached the bottom, saving her from getting hurt so badly.
Instead, he arrived just in time to see the bartender dash forward and curiosity got the better of the Hell Hound. Bishop followed the skinny jean wearing emo-head to see what was up, never expecting to see a vixen on the floor all red-faced and shook up.
He felt possessive of her when the bartender reached to help her up. Ridiculous as it was, Bishop had fucking loved it when she refused to accept that bartender’s help. And the Hell Hound side of him howled in victory when she allowed Bishop to touch her instead. Bonus points was sharing that shitty bottle of tequila while the bartender had to stand of the other side of the bar and watch.
Hell Hounds were cocky fuckers. Territorial animals. They sucked at sharing anything but their weapons.
Tilly had no idea who she had sat next to at The Blue Lizard. That Bishop, being the dirty dog beside her, had undressed her with his eyes while she swallowed the booze. That he sucked on his lime wedge wishing it was her bottom lip. That he licked the salt from his hand, pretending it was her clit. His mouth watered with every flick of his tongue. At one point, her gaze flicked to him and he groaned low in his throat when he smelled her lust. Her jeans were too tight and gave him a very clear picture of what was underneath. Her tits were slamming in that shirt, too and her hair twisted up on her head in a messy knot gave him an excellent vision of what her sexed up bed head would look like. In his mind, Bishop fucked her all over that bar – on the stool, against the wall, on the stage, and on the second-floor balcony.
In reality, he kept his mouth shut and eyes straight ahead while his dick throbbed in his leather pants. Keeping quiet was only easy because he was roaring in his mind while he pounded his dick into her mouth, her pussy, and her ass. Fuuuuck.
And now, it was over and he was home.
Bishop took the steps two at a time and went quietly down to the basement where he kept his drum set. He closed his eyes and focused on the image of Tilly’s profile. Her sharp nose, round cheeks, big eyes. That ass.
Fuck… that ass.
He hoped it wasn’t too bruised from her fall. Bishop groaned, his hips jutting forward on his stool as his imagination went wild with all the things he wanted to do to that curvy bombshell. The lights in the room flickered and Bishop popped his eyes open. Valor stood in the doorway and Bishop stopped beating his snare. “What?”
“Chloe said she called ye.”
“Chloe?”
“Yeah.” Valor crossed his arms, “The psychic in town I keep on retainer. She just called and said to go back to The Blue Lizard. Said she told ye to go there.”
Bishop stood up so fast the stool fell behind him, “I was there for hours. There was nothing. No one.”
“Are ye positive?”
“Yeah.” Bishop’s eyes narrowed, “Why?”
“Because… she… fuck Bishop, are ye sure?”
“Yes! They weren’t there!” Ever since Bishop killed five people while he was possessed, Valor treated him like a fragile little bubble. He worded things nicer, didn’t bark as much, didn’t demand so much. It was irritating as fuck. “Say it, Alpha. Whatever the hell you’re thinking, fucking say it.”
“You’re still not yourself, Hound. Ye were ordered to find balance and you’ve disobeyed.”
“I’m trying.”
“Not good enough.” Valor came over and grabbed Bishop by the arm, hauling his ass out of the room. “You’re staying here.”
“What? No! I’m going with you.”
Valor roared with fury, “I’ll not have a Hound who canna think or see straight walk by my side. Ye stay here. HERE. Bishop. Och, for all I ken, the twins were there and ye missed them because ye canna see past your self-pity and hate.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the fuck, Valor?
” Bishop shoved into him, slamming his alpha against the wall. “They weren’t there!”
Valor growled and took Bishop to the ground in a blink of an eye. “The fact that I can take ye down this easy is a sign Bishop.” He growled low in his chest, “I’m calling in someone to help ye.”
“I don’t want to fuck a whore.”
“Then don’t fuck her. But ye will get off with someone. Ye have no choice now. You’re not yourself and you’ll only get worse. Until ye satisfy that piece of ye, Hound, I willna let ye out to hunt. Not tonight, and not tomorrow. Not until ye can stand straight without tremors. How many fingers am I holding up?”
Bishop looked away and stumbled as he rose to his feet again. He couldn’t tell how many fingers Valor was holding up. Could have been two, could have been five. He also hadn’t been able to see what color Tilly’s eyes were. Hell, he didn’t even know her size until he grabbed a handful of her luscious ass when she’d kissed him. Valor had a point. Bishop was deteriorating at a rapid pace. Damnit.
“I’m heading down to The Blue Lizard and will sweep the place. If there is even a trace, a scent, a lingering bit of energy that I can connect to the twins, I’ll call ye and ye can come down to meet me there.” He grabbed Bishop’s neck and forced the Hound to make eye contact, “Be sure you’re well enough to handle it.” Valor pulled out his cell, hit a few buttons, and made the call Bishop absolutely hated. “Tina, get over here for Bishop.” He hung up his cell and dropped Bishop all in one swift movement. “Doona disobey me, Hound. I canna lose ye too.”
Valor marched away and left Bishop on his own.
His heart beat against his chest in a terrible way when he heard the front door slam shut. Valor was actually leaving him behind. Holy shit. Bishop, consumed with rage and frustration, pounded the sides of his head and screamed.
Valor heard his Hound baying in the basement. It killed him to leave Bishop alone in the house. That Hell Hound didn’t do well with silence or being locked up, which was why Valor hadn’t gone the extra step by putting him in the safe room. The last thing they needed was for Bishop to lose the last bit of sanity he had left because Valor confined him to a room to keep him safe.
Hard to Find (Hell Hounds Harem Book 4) Page 2
