by Amo Jones
Nate grins at me but slowly rubs my body down his abs as he drops me back to the ground. “I warned you,” he whispers, before bending down to my ear. “This is all a game, kitty. Bishop, me, the Kings—it’s a game, but it’s a death match.”
I watch his retreating back before looking at Bishop. “I think it’s time I start asking questions.”
Bishop walks toward me slowly. “Pretty sure asking questions is out of your jurisdiction.”
“I WAS SO DRUNK LAST night.” Tillie massages her temples as I strip down to my bikini.
Tatum scoffs, ripping off her clothes so she’s in hers as well. “No shit.” She rolls her eyes and steps into the cold lake. I woke up this morning needing a bath or shower, so I woke up Tillie and Tatum and dragged their asses with me to try to find a lake, which we did. Buried in the middle of nowhere, about a forty-minute walk north from the camp. Tonight is our last night here before going home tomorrow, thank God. I don’t want anyone to find out about Bishop and me sleeping together—again—so when—not if, when—something happens, no one can tell me they told me so.
“I can’t believe you slept with Nate, Tillie.” Tatum shakes her head and then dunks under the water, pushing her hair out of her face. “But seriously... how good is he?”
“Stop. Gross.” I shake my head, stepping into the lake. There are rocks that surround it, so I take a step on the first one, tying my hair up into a messy ponytail. “I don’t want to know about Nate and his....” I pause.
“Huge cock?” Tatum winks at me.
“Really?” I scold her. “You just had to say that?”
“Yes, really, and I’m flattered. I really am.” Nate smirks, walking toward the mouth of the lake, with Bishop, Cash, Brantly, Chase, Hunter and Eli following behind him.
The Kings are all here.
My frown deepens, but I turn back toward the water and dive in until I’m under the bitter glacial water. Swimming to the top, I surface and swipe my hair out of my face with a smirk of my own. The sound of birds tweeting and crickets chirping hum through the blistering silence, and it feels natural, perfect. Doggy paddling under the water to keep my body afloat, I dunk my mouth under and examine the Kings. They’re all in board shorts, shirtless, blessing us all with their—what I have no doubt they call—masterpieces for bodies. Nate starts talking to Tillie, much to her dismay, and Tatum looks to be taunting Hunter and Brantley, as the rest of the boys take a seat on a couple of rocks overlooking the vast area of the lake.
Still doggy paddling to keep above the water, Bishop starts walking in, headed for me. Each saunter he makes toward me, the waters separate for him, much like the human race whenever Bishop is around. He gets closer and then dives under, every muscle in his body rippling as he plunges in. He disappears. Seconds pass, and he still hasn’t resurfaced. I look around, left to right, and then finally come back to where everyone is on the shoreline, all talking like they were.
Where the fu—
Arms latch around my ankles, and I scream out loudly before the glacial waters suck me under again. My hands swing out as I attempt to pull myself to the surface, but Bishop’s arm locks around my waist tightly, pulling me closer to him until my body is flush against his and we’re both entrapped by the water. He grabs me at the back of my neck and pulls my lips to his, his tongue slipping inside my mouth. He grabs one of my boobs, pushing my bikini down and squeezing my nipple. Deciding to take his lack of grip on me as a chance to break free, I push off his chest and struggle to the surface, sucking in a large gulp of air and swiping my hair off my face. Bishop comes up a second after me, a smirk on his mouth and water trickling over his perfect face.
I splash him. “Dick move!”
He grins, swimming up to me. “I never said I wasn’t a dick, kitty.” He wraps one of his arms around the back of my waist and pulls me into him. I search his eyes for something, and I don’t even know what. He glares back at me, burning enough to set my body on fire despite the fact I’m in a freezing fucking cold lake.
“What?” he asks, and I keep my hand on his chest, trying to ignore how his cock presses against my stomach every few seconds as he bobs in the water.
“We’re supposed to be a secret, remember?” I tilt my head. “You’re not being very secretive.”
He shrugs and licks the lake water off his plump lips. “I didn’t get to where I am by giving a fuck what people think.”
“And where is that?” I ask, sinking closer into his embrace. I’m well aware of how this would look to our friends on the shore, but I’m so entranced by Bishop that I no longer care. Black Veil Brides’ “Knives and Pens” plays from Tillie’s Beats sound-dock in the distance just as Bishop grins.
“God status.”
I roll my eyes, swimming to the edge of one of the big rocks that are placed around the edge of the lake, pushing myself up and taking a seat on one that’s tucked away slightly. Bishop follows, coming to me and climbing up. I try to ignore the way his tan skin glistens in the afternoon sun and how his muscles contract with every single movement. I notice the scripted tattoo over his ribcage and nudge my head as he takes a seat beside me. “What’s the tattoo say?”
He leans over, lifting his arm to look at it, and then leans back on his elbows, shaking the water out of his hair. “There are humans, and there are wolves, and then there is me...” He inches up to me, his lips gliding over the thin flesh of my neck. “A fucking god.”
I close my eyes and internally fight the urge to crawl onto his lap. Prying them open, they fall on everyone back at the mouth of the lake. “You did not get that.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I did.”
“I’m not even surprised.” I lie on my back, throwing my arm over my eyes to shield the sun. Little colorful dots dance behind my shut lids, and I’m just about to ask Bishop about what the whole “riddle me this” stuff was about, when I feel his fingertip glide down the side of my ribcage.
“Bishop,” I warn through a whisper.
“Shh,” he coos, pushing his finger up to my lips. “Just go with it.”
“But what about the rules? We had rules.”
“Kitty, I don’t do rules—ever. In anything too, by the way. I do what the fuck I want, and if people don’t like it, then it’s no loss to me.” His warm lips press to the crook of my neck, and I suck in a breath, my pulse picking up speed. “I want you. You want me. Stop being such a fucking girl and spread those legs.”
Obeying his order, I slowly inch my legs wider, and he dips back into the water. Pulling my legs toward him, he ducks behind the rock and grips my bikini bottoms.
“Bishop!” I laugh, getting up on my elbows.
“What?” He licks his lips. “They can’t see, and who the fuck cares if they could?”
“Ah, me?” I answer sarcastically. “This may come as a shock to you, but I don’t go flashing my hoo-ha to just anyone.”
“Don’t say hoo-ha ever again.”
“Oh?” I quirk my eyebrow. “Is that your cock-block?”
“What do you mean?” he asks, dunking his lips under the water and then spitting it out.
“The opposite of cock-bait.”
He stops, his eyes running over my body in such a way it has me forgetting everyone that is here. “Naw, babe. Nothing can stop me from this.” He presses the cushion of his thumb against my clit, and I drop down to my back, my eyes closing but the afternoon sun fighting to break through my eyelids. “Your Betrayal” by Bullet For My Valentine starts blaring in the distance, just as Bishop pulls off my bikini bottoms and the fresh forest air whips around my tender flesh.
My chest rises and falls, my breathing heavy and needy, wanting him to dull the ache he has started, the ache that seems to be on Nitric Oxide whenever he’s around. His warm mouth blankets my folds and my back arches, my hand slamming down on my own mouth to stifle my moans. Spreading my legs wide, he licks me from my entry to my clit and then sucks on it softly before circling my nub in his mouth with slow, pressured
rotations.
“Bishop,” I moan softly.
“What do you want, kitty?” he murmurs against my needy clit. “I might give it to you.”
“I... I...,” I mutter hoarsely. He presses his tongue over my clit, rubbing it vigorously until my thighs are quivering and my moans are about to scream out of my body. “I want you!” I whisper-yell. “Fuck, I want you, Bishop.”
“My what, kitty? You can’t have it all.”
Not seeing the truth in his words during my sex-drunken haze, I answer, “Your cock. I need it. I need you.”
He yanks my body and I fall into the water with a loud splash, the ice-cold lake only enhancing the sensitivity of my nipples. Wrapping his arm around waist, he props me up and surfaces me on the water. I wrap my hands around his neck, squeezing my legs around him, and slowly sink myself down on top of his thick head. His eyes roll back—fucking roll back—and my pussy clenches at the sight alone, but my finger comes up to his lips, where I run it over the plumpness roughly. He hits my hand away and shoves me against one of the rocks before trying to pull out of me. I clench around him, pulling him into myself during his outward stroke.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “So fucking tight.” His hand comes up to my throat. “But I fucking hate you.” He pumps me again. “Hate what you are.” He pulls out and then pushes in roughly, so rough my back starts to sting from the friction. He kisses me urgently, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth. “Hate who you are.” He pounds into me, raw and consistently, my back aching from the grazes, which is almost unbearable, but I’m so lost in our cage, a cage that’s entranced by Bishop’s voodoo sex magic, I don’t care. His hands come to my thighs, where he spreads me wider. “I hate you, kitty, and that’s why you will always just be another fuck for me.”
I rub myself against him. “I’m... I’m...” I wanna say a stupid bitch, but what comes out is, “...going to come!” I let go, my body shaking, my brain fuzzy, my vision blurred, and my hearing frizzled. My orgasm takes every drop of my energy and sucks it into a hole of nothingness with empty feelings.
He follows closely, his cock pulsing inside of me as I continue to milk him.
His shoulders turn slack as he leans back, searching my eyes. “I’m flattered you hate me that much.” I roll my eyes and push away from him. He lets me go, and I try to hide my disappointment. Do I want him to chase me? Possibly. I have too much pride to accept him just letting me walk away, but I also know this is Bishop. It’s obvious just how unattainable he is, and him gracing me with his presence is what I should be happy with. I scoff inwardly. Fuck that.
“Hey.” His hand catches mine just as I get out of the lake and back onto the rock. I look at him over my shoulder, and he stills. His eyes settle on my back. “Shit.”
I look over my shoulder. “Those will heal.” I shrug, stepping off the rock and walking away from him, opting for the short trek back through the tree line of the lake to get back to the girls instead of swimming back. “My feelings, on the other hand...,” I whisper angrily under my breath. My feelings shouldn’t even be in the equation. I know this, but he doesn’t. He’s made it crystal clear he doesn’t want more, so I should just walk away now before I get hurt—or break.
“Madison!” he yells, jogging up to me. I ignore him, carrying on my walk. Am I being ridiculous? Yes. Do I care? No.
“Hey!” He tugs on my hand, spinning me around to face him. “What’s wrong?” His eyebrows draw in. He looks genuinely confused.
I shake my head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Then I turn around again and start walking back toward the girls.
He tugs on my hand again, only this time I fall against his chest. He looks down at me, making me feel small with a simple glare. “What. The. Fuck. Is your problem, kitty?”
I exhale. “It’s nothing. I guess I always knew you hated me, but I didn’t know the severity of it.”
He tilts his head. “So why are you sulking, then?”
I push at his chest, but his hand comes up and catches my wrist. “Stop the fucking bullshit, kitty. Tell me what’s wrong!”
“Why do you hate me so much?” I blurt out. “Why? Why did you say you hate what I am and who I am—as if you’ve known me forever?”
His jaw tics, but his grip doesn’t loosen. “Maybe I fucking have. Ever thought about that?”
I pause, slamming my mouth shut. “What do you mean?” I ask after a moment.
He pushes me this time. “Maybe I’ve known who you are for some time.” He starts walking back toward the mouth of the lake.
I run up to him, falling into step behind him. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means you should just stay away.”
“No.”
“What?” He spins around to face me. “What do you mean no?”
“I won’t stay away from you just because you said so!” I retort. “Tell me!”
He steps up to me, his eyes cold, his jaw stone, and his lip slightly curled. “You don’t know anything.”
“So fucking tell me!” I shout at him, searching his eyes and ignoring the shiver of goose bumps that have spiked over my skin. “God, Bishop,” I whisper in defeat. “Be honest with me.”
Silence. I look back at his face, catching him watching me closely. “You’re not ready. But I will tell you this...” He pauses, licking his bottom lip. “Not everything is as it seems. We—The Kings—don’t play games for shits and giggles. There’s a reason why we do what we do when we have to, and trust me, kitty. You’re lucky you made it out with your life intact—for now.”
“What?” I whisper in shock. I told him to be honest, but now he has given me even more questions to ask.
“As much as it looks like we’re trying to hurt you...” He pauses again. “As much as we have hurt you, it’s all for your own good.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I rake my hair out of my face, my breath quickening. “Bishop, that’s just giving me more questions.”
“Do you trust me?”
Instant. “No.”
He gives me one of his panty-melting smirks. “Good. Do you trust Nate?”
Hesitation. “N—no.”
“Your judgment isn’t as shit as you think, then.” He steps up to me, gripping my fingers with his and pulling me into his body. “Believe it or not, though, we’re doing this for your own good, and it could quite possibly put us in danger too.”
I rub my temples. “You’re giving me a headache,” I murmur into his warm, hard chest.
“Well then, we’re even, ’cause I have something else that’s aching.”
I shove him, a small smile pulling on my lips. “So you hate me that much, huh?” I ask playfully, as we walk back toward everyone.
“Yes. I won’t lie about that, but that’s only because I have unanswered questions, suspicions, and a whole lot of facts that are in front of me. But it just so happens... you get my dick hard.”
“Hmm,” I murmur, just as we step out onto the sandy area. “And men say girls are complicated? That right there, Bishop Vincent Hayes, was a grade-A clinger warning!” I mock him, my mouth open.
He stops his walk, scowling at me with his lip curled up. “Say what?” Then he charges at me, grabbing the back of my thighs firefighter-style and flinging me over his shoulder.
I scream out loudly, hitting his ass with my hand while everyone chuckles in the background. “Bishop!” I yell at him, just as he tosses me into the air. I swim around midair just as my back and butt hit the hard water with a loud splash, and little bites cover my ass.
Thirty minutes. That’s how long I spent with Bishop. And he has bruised me in more places than I can see.
“SO ARE WE JUST GOING to ignore the fact that you and Bishop Vincent fucking Hayes are obviously banging?” Tatum states, pulling on her cutoff shorts.
I tug on my little black shorts, buttoning them up, and then throw on a loose white boyfriend suit-shirt, tucking one side in. “I mean, I don’t know. We’re just sleeping
together, but you can’t say anything. And when this all blows up in my face, you’re still not allowed to say anything!” I look pointedly to both Tatum and Tillie.
“I didn’t say anything.” Tatum shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips. But then her smile falls. “But please be careful. They’re dangerous, Madi.”
“I know how to take care of myself,” I reassure her with a smile. Looking to Tillie, I nudge my head. “What’s up with you and Nate?”
She stills, pulling on her boyfriend jeans. “Nothing.”
I narrow my eyes. “Bullshit.”
She exhales. “I don’t know. We slept together last night.” She looks to Tatum nervously.
Tatum stops what she’s doing, looking at me and Tillie. “What? Oh, please. Like I care. I was serious when I said I used him just like he used me. I wish you all the sexy times in the world, I promise.”
“Okay,” Tillie says relieved. “But he’s... I don’t know. Confusing.”
“Duh, it’s Nate. He’s a dick,” Tatum scoffs.
“No, that’s not it,” Tillie murmurs. “I mean, he’s obviously a dick and all that, but to me, not so much.”
“Hmm.” I stare off into the distance. “Interesting.”
Tillie laughs, tying her pastel pink hair up in a high ponytail. “It’s nothing.”
I bend down, pull out the bottle of Grey Goose, and then throw the red cups in the middle. “So this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said we should all go camping.” I roll my eyes. “This isn’t the camping I usually do.”
“We know that.” Tatum grins. “You should have brought your guns!”
A horrified expression pulls across my face. “What? No way. That’s not—no. That’s going against everything my dad taught me growing up.”
“Well, maybe we could all go together sometime. I’ve never shot a gun.” Tillie stares off into the distance.
“That’s a better idea!” I point, widening my eyes at Tatum.
“What?” Tatum feigns innocence. “Just saying... maybe you could shoot Bishop, and people would think it was an accident.” We all start laughing. Clutching my stomach, I wipe the tears off my cheeks.
