by A. E. Via
“I think you may have mentioned that,” Bishop rumbled, watching him so closely it made him nervous.
Edison moved their plates to the other end of the table and cleared some space for the large sketch pad Bishop had brought with him. It would probably have been more hospitable of him to clear the dirty dishes but he couldn’t stand in his current predicament. It was why he’d needed to steer their conversation towards work, because if Bishop kept staring at him that way, he was sure to make a fool out of himself.
“I hope you like them. I made three different designs to fit a mid-range budget.” Bishop eased around the bench seat and set the pad in front of them, flipping past several pages before he stopped. “I took what you said about Fall. And wanting to grill outdoors, maybe entertain sometimes. Then you want a kind of cozy area for you to read.”
“Yeah.” Edison sighed, staring at the large piece of paper that showed a lawn that was fresh, modern and so full of brilliant color that he couldn’t believe his eyes. There was no freaking way that Bishop was turning that wildlife refuge he had in his backyard into the gorgeous scene he saw before him. But that was his big weeping willow tree at the end of the property that hung over the back fence, now looking like a shady oasis. It was clear that the picture had been hand-drawn with color pencils, but the definition and detail were so clear that from a distance it could’ve been mistaken for a photograph. Edison could make out the different kinds of plants Bishop had chosen, most of them with auburn, deep greens, and orange and red foliage. There was a stone path that wove between rows of pretty orange flowers leading to his shed, so he no longer had to walk in the grass if he wanted to go in it. Which, on the paper, was immaculately cut into one of those checkered designs he’d seen around luxury homes. His grill was repositioned to another side of the porch and Bishop had added a dark wood awning onto the fence, so he’d have shade when he cooked. There was a gray stone enclosure around his cooking area with more plants and bushes added along the sides, making it look like one of those setups on the outdoor cooking show he watched. Bishop had even drawn the flames licking into the air and smoke rising from the grill.
But his favorite by far was the oversized plush lounge chair and new patio set he saw surrounding a medium-sized fire pit. It wasn’t one that’d appear to cost a small fortune, but was just perfect for him. And just as he’d asked there were a couple of speakers set up around the porch, but they weren’t disguised as stones, they were owls. Edison chuckled. That’s brilliant! Owls were nocturnal birds of prey—they’d scare away any creepies trying to make their way onto his porch at night while he was lost in a novel. When he was able to pull his eyes away from the sketch, he saw Bishop watching him as intensely as always.
“You like it?”
Edison wanted to sink to the floor at the sound of that darn voice. Oh, heck yes. I like everything. I like you! He wanted to holler, but he played it as cool as could, although he was beyond impressed.
“Bishop,” he breathed. “I can’t believe this. Your drawing is beautiful, but to think you thought of this from looking at that,” Edison pointed to his open patio doors. “Is unbelievable. You are so talented.”
Edison couldn’t tell if Bishop was blushing, because his skin was too tanned and his stubble too dark. But the way his gaze darted over the drawing, then to Edison’s face was telling. Bishop wanted him to like his work, wanted him to love it. Just like he wanted Bishop to love his cooking.
“I have a couple more.” Bishop’s knee bounced underneath the table as he flipped to the next page.
Edison gasped. It was the same concept, except with different patio sets and different flower options. The lines were still as sleek and complicated as the first possibility. Then Bishop flipped another page. Just as elaborate and intricate as the others. He shook his head, smiling over at this amazing man. “How do I possibly choose?”
Bishop licked his lips and Edison felt his smile fade as he stared at Bishop’s full mouth, wondering what it’d be like to kiss him.
“You don’t have to pick right now. There’s a lot to be done before I’ll get to buying the flowers and so forth.”
“Wow.” Edison flipped back to the first one. “I think I’ll go with this one. Yes. This one.”
“This is the first one I drew.”
Edison smiled. “I like the colors. In November it’ll be real nice, won’t it? Once it’s all in bloom.”
“Yes. It will.”
“Right in time for Thanksgiving. That was my pop’s favorite holiday.” Edison pfft’d and rolled his eyes. “Mine too.”
“Mine too,” Bishop added. “I’ve been to one or two Thanksgiving dinners in my day.”
Only a couple. Edison didn’t probe. But that sounded sad, and he wondered more about Bishop’s family. He had a dad he was close enough to work with and a best friend he called brother. Why’d he sound so alone?
Edison stood, hoping Bishop didn’t pay too close attention to his lower region. Bishop would have to accept the fact that he had no control over it, and it was Bishop’s fault for being so enticing. He gathered their empty plates and glasses. “Do you want something else to drink?”
Bishop followed him into the kitchen with the few remaining condiments. Edison felt his temperature rising, felt his pulse speed up. Bishop was in his kitchen again. While typically it was the perfect space for him, it felt suffocating with Bishop’s big body working around his own. He took the dishes from Bishop’s hand and set them in the sink. “You didn’t have to do that. My pop taught me better than that. You’re a guest in my house.”
“Well my dad would say, guess what. Get your lazy ass up and help with the dishes.”
Edison laughed as he stacked the rest of the plates then got a clean dish cloth to wipe down the table. He’d take care of the other mess after Bishop left, not wanting to waste one second of their time together. “When do you want to get started? It looks as if that’s going to take some time.”
“Trent will help me with the startup and then I’ll take it from there. I’ll do a few hours after work on the weekdays and on Saturday. It won’t be as long as you think. I can have a contract for you to look over tomorrow and I’ll bring my equipment with me.”
“Tomorrow?” Edison stood straight.
“Is that too soon?” Bishop came closer.
Edison dried his hands and tossed the towel onto the counter. “No. Not at all. I’m just surprised. And… excited… so yeah, let’s do it. I’m ready.”
“So am I,” Bishop rumbled.
Edison didn’t know what was happening. Were they still talking about his backyard? Bishop didn’t look like he was thinking about landscaping. Edison’s back was pressed against the counter while Bishop stood there at his full six-feet-plus height, blocking his exit. Edison blinked as his eyes traveled down Bishop’s toned thighs to his boots. Very large boots.
“Look at me, Eddie.” Bishop came even closer, almost stalking him.
His heart felt as if it was going to beat out of his chest. Bishop still hadn’t stopped advancing and Edison had nowhere else to go in the dimly lit room. Not that he wanted to. He lifted his head until he was staring into Bishop’s eyes. While he hadn’t had that look leveled on him before, he still recognized it. Lust, want. Bishop was coming at him with an expression of hunger that terrified him. What was he supposed to do? He held eye contact the best he could, needing to exert some masculinity in there somewhere, but the heaviness of his breath and the panicked feeling in his gut were hard to ignore.
Edison was close to pass-out level by the time Bishop pressed his chest to his body. Holy… mother of… Bishop was so darn hard—his stomach, his arms, his cock… and so was Edison’s. He had no reason to be embarrassed by his erection because from what he could feel, Bishop was in the same predicament. Yet, still he doubted Bishop was about to blow like he was. Edison gripped the back of the counter with both hands. He tried his best to slow his breathing, but it was useless when he saw Bishop’s hand r
ising out of the corner of his eye. Slowly, Bishop cupped the side of his jaw, his eyes roaming over Edison’s face as if he’d never seen him before.
“You’re beautiful,” Bishop said, sounding as if he was his losing his voice. The bass in his voice vibrated the skin on Edison’s cheek as Bishop dragged his nose along his jaw to his throat. “I told myself to be professional while I was here, but I can’t…” Bishop emitted a low growl that shot straight to Edison’s groin. “I can’t help but want to touch you.”
God, he needed to be touched so badly but didn’t know how to ask for it. Edison’s reaction was a soft moan. Bishop gripped his hips and pulled him in tight and Edison’s dick began to leak. He knew he didn’t have long before he’d feel that tingling in his crotch and the pressure building in his sac. He just couldn’t believe what was happening. Bishop’s chest felt nothing like his own. It had so much definition that Edison could feel the groves through his shirt. And he wanted to feel more. As if Bishop could read his thoughts, he wrapped one muscular arm around his back while he continued to stroke the side of Edison’s cheek with his other hand.
“So smooth,” Bishop murmured against his cheek. “I’ve wanted to do this since I first touched you in that parking lot.”
“Bishop,” he sighed, just able to catch his breath enough to say that one word. His cock jerked and his face flushed when Bishop growled in response, his thick shaft throbbing heavily against his pelvis. Oh my god, oh my god. He didn’t want to appear as inexperienced as he was, so he released his death grip on the counter and placed his hands over Bishop’s, where they rested on his hips. He wondered if Bishop dated big men. He wanted to believe that Bishop was that attracted to him—and he was doing a convincing job now—but things often had a way of not working out for him in the intimacy department.
“Thank you,” he whispered. He had no idea why he’d said that. He felt his face heat to an abnormal temperature. Bishop squeezed his waist, causing him to squirm uncomfortably at the thought of Bishop feeling his love handles. While he was proud at how far he’d come with controlling his weight and health, he couldn’t help feeling a bit self-conscious in Bishop’s strong presence, and he hated that.
He liked to think he was a decent guy—raised with manners, followed the golden rule, there was no reason for him to have to settle for someone who mistreated him because he wasn’t a perfect six foot with a thirty-six inch waist. No, he didn’t look like Skylar, but to him Sky was the ugliest man in the world because of how disgusting he was inside. When Edison would come home from school crying because the kids were picking on him again, his father would tell him it was what was on the inside that mattered. And he hoped that Bishop was attracted to him, not so much what everyone saw on the outside.
“You smell so good,” Bishop murmured, his nose still doing the exploring while those full lips danced across his skin, just barely touching the corner of his lips.
Edison gasped when Bishop cupped his jaw, tilted his head in the direction he wanted him then went for his mouth. His lips were spread wider when Bishop’s tongue plunged inside for a thorough taste. Edison hadn’t been kissed in ages, and he’d sort of forgotten that he needed to participate as well. He placed his hands gingerly on Bishop’s thick shoulders and let his tongue out to play. At the first swipe along Bishop’s bottom lip, he heard the growl before he was hefted off the floor and set on top of his counter as if he was about to be prepped for a meal.
His eyes went wide as he clutched Bishop’s arms. How the heck had he lifted him so effortlessly? In this position, he was looking down into Bishop’s eyes, and he felt himself getting lost in their darkness and not wanting to be found. He’d never been on his counter like this, tossed onto it in the throes of passion. He had only seen that kind of thing happen in movies. Bishop went for his mouth again and Edison didn’t resist him no matter how much his lips were trembling. He was more active this time, feeling emboldened by his position. He spread his legs wider and wrapped his arms around Bishop’s neck while he sucked on his tongue.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Bishop
Bishop had his tongue buried so deep in Edison’s mouth that he was practically suffocating him. But he couldn’t stop. When he finally came up for air, he kept his nose against Edison’s jaw, inhaling his fragrance. He’d found the man’s natural scent buried beneath the aroma from tonight’s dinner and just under the smell of that enticing cologne. Bishop’s dick was so hard he couldn’t see straight. He could feel the dampness in his shorts, and he wanted to reach inside and stroke the slickness over his sensitive head, but he kept his focus on Edison. He was already giving Bishop all that he’d wanted and more. There was nothing in the world like Edison’s responses to him. They were addictive, and it made him feel powerful at how weak he could make him.
Edison continued to pepper him with those timid kisses right before Bishop would dive in for a deeper taste. Edison’s flavor was so new, and mouthwatering that he had a difficult time breaking away for air. He hadn’t meant to handle Edison so aggressively by tossing him onto the counter, but he’d lost all rational thought at the first real feel of Edison’s body—such a contrast to what he’d been used to seeing for the past several years. Edison felt so tender that Bishop found himself pressing in tighter, not able to get close enough to satisfy his urge. He released Edison’s cheeks and wrapped both arms around his waist, loving the suppleness of flesh under his touch. Edison was damn near surrendering himself to his command, and it shot to his head before it hit him square in the nuts. Fuck.
It’d been way too long, and Bishop knew he was losing control, but god he wanted, needed. Before he’d been released from prison, he’d vowed to himself not to be careless about sex, and to build some form of a relationship with a man before he jumped into bed with him. A man who would accept him for all that he was… and all that he wasn’t.
Edison moaned loudly when Bishop rerouted his hands and ran them up that soft chest until he got to his throat. “Eddie,” Bishop groaned, licking him along the creamy skin over his jaw.
“Wait. We… I need to…” Edison huffed, sounding desperate. Bishop knew the feeling and he didn’t want to wait, he didn’t want to stop. It couldn’t end right now. “I’m gonna…”
“Yes,” Bishop answered, thrusting against the hard cabinet while he pulled Edison’s body flush against him. He flicked his thumb over Edison’s hard nipple and the man almost jumped off the counter.
“Oh! Shoot… Bishop—” Edison released him and slammed his hand down over his dick, covering the wet spot that’d grown since they’d started kissing. Bishop hoped Edison wasn’t embarrassed. They were both leaking like faucets.
Bishop eased his grip. Edison’s eyes were hooded, his bright hazel pupils smokier than usual, reflecting his desire, his yearning to be taken. “You feel so damn good, don’t make me stop right now,” Bishop whispered, rubbing his hand up and down Edison’s arm where he continued to bear down on his dick. “Has it been a while for you too?”
Edison chuckled but there was no humor behind it. He attempted to turn his head but Bishop didn’t let him. He could tell he was nervous by the way his fingers twitched on the back of Bishop’s neck and his eyes began to roam everywhere but directly at him. “Um.”
“Hey,” Bishop said, caressing his cheek. “It’s all good. It’s been a real long time for me.”
“I…” Edison chewed his bottom lip then sighed a long, slow breath. “I probably got you beat in that aspect.”
What? Bishop looked Edison in his eyes when he confessed with complete seriousness, “I never slept with anyone in prison. Never. Not once, not even a blowjob. I was so put off… unattracted to the guys in there that it honestly wasn’t that hard. And, I haven’t been with a man since I came home. So…”
Edison nodded; his gaze still shifty. “That is a long time.”
“Tell me about it.” Bishop smirked.
Edison didn’t smile as he kept up the worried expression. Bishop cont
inued to rub Edison and the way he leaned into the touch told Bishop that the last thing he wanted was for him to stop, but there was still something bothering him. Bishop hoped Edison wasn’t doubting his attraction for him anymore because there was no faking what he was feeling.
“I still may have you beat… by quite a bit,” Edison mumbled.
“That’s okay. It’s not a competition, handsome.” Bishop was already liking that Edison may have been in the same boat that he was. There was nothing wrong with going celibate for a while to get your shit together. If that was the case for Edison, then it was just one more thing for Bishop to admire about him.
“Good. Because I’d lose, big time.” Edison rolled his eyes. The mood was cooling, and Bishop didn’t know what’d just happened or what he’d done to make the man in his arms go from sizzling hot to freezing cold. Perhaps he’d lost his mojo.
“What are you saying? Like ten years?” Bishop frowned, trying to understand. Either way, it didn’t matter. He was good at picking up people’s undertones and the hidden messages behind their mannerisms, but he was one hundred percent confused.
“Ugh… More like twenty-six and half… years,” Edison said as he dropped his other hand to join the one still covering his fading erection. “I was gonna try to wing it, ya know. But… I don’t think I would’ve pulled it off too well.”
Bishop cocked his head to the side as if he couldn’t’ve heard what he thought he’d heard. Or that Edison could be saying what he was saying… He removed his hands from Edison’s waist and took a few steps back, watching him to see if he’d smirk or wink… or something. Because there was no way that Bishop had fucked up this terribly.
“Wow.” Edison huffed and ungracefully climbed off the counter. He turned his back and hurried to straighten his clothes. “I just wanted to be honest with you, like you’ve been with me.”
Bishop’s tongue felt thick in his mouth and his hands itched to touch Edison but he didn’t. He continued to put distance between them while his mind raced. What had he fucking done? Edison was a damn virgin… how had he not known that? Bishop groaned and pressed his fist to his forehead when he thought of the way he’d thrown Edison on his fucking countertop like a filet and started devouring him, all under the premise that he was giving Edison what he wanted. No. Bishop was being impatient and he’d moved too fast. He hadn’t planned on sleeping over or nothing, but he’d wanted to get off, he wouldn’t lie. He’d been rounding second base and was ready to hit third hard just before Edison blared timeout.
