by A. E. Via
Edison rolled his eyes at the hot silkiness stroking his mouth. Bishop was so sensual in the way he touched him that Edison had a hard time fighting to not to embarrass himself. Like, who came from just kissing? Thank goodness Bishop eased back when he did, just letting his lips linger close to his. They were both breathing deeply, recycling the same lustful breaths.
“Did I tell you that you look sexy tonight?” Bishop rumbled, running his other hand along the underside of Edison’s lapel, his knuckles grazing over his nipple.
Edison groaned quietly. “I think once or twice, yes.”
“You do.”
“Thank you,” Edison whispered.
Bishop kissed him once more, then moved back to his side of the vehicle. Edison pressed the start engine button then had a great idea that he knew would skyrocket Bishop’s mood into space where the thought of Royce didn’t even exist. He started smiling before he could say it.
“What’s so funny?” Bishop asked.
“Nothing. I just have a great idea.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You mind a quick pitstop before we go back to my place.”
Bishop licked his lips, “Sure. I like the way that sounds… back to your place.”
Edison’s breath stuttered. Dang, Bishop exuded sex and charm. Edison wanted to press down on his growing cock, but he knew his face would brighten in shame if he did. Instead, he put the car in gear and drove the few blocks over to the Barnes & Noble and parked in the full lot. When he glanced over Bishop was looking up at the building with an unreadable expression.
“Guess what?”
“What?” Bishop turned to face him.
“Remember that black ops story I was reading to you last week by P. Stevenson Roth?”
“Yeah. That author was cool. I liked his style… and I especially like the way you sound when you read those love scenes.”
Edison bit his bottom lip at the unique, and much-loved compliment. “He has another series about an assassin named Meridian. It’s his Meridian Takedown series, and the reviews are crazy. I ordered it last week and it’s here for pickup.”
Bishop stared at Edison a long time, his dark eyes on his face, and he wondered if his great idea wasn’t so great after all. Edison dropped his head, his voice lowering with uncertainty, but he didn’t know what else to say. “I know tonight didn’t go as planned, but I don’t want you to think I’m upset or anything. Look, we can get this new book and go back to my place… and… and I can just read to you, Bishop. I don’t want you to feel pressured to have to make up for anything because tonight was really special to me. Just being with you.”
Bishop shocked him when he turned and got out without a word, and Edison’s world felt as if it’d dropped from beneath his feet for a couple of seconds until Bishop walked around his car and opened his door. A thick palm was held out to him, and when he took it, Edison was hauled into a hard chest as strong arms encased in him right there in the wide-open lot. Bishop certainly wasn’t shy. A woman walked by with her teenage daughter, who both gave them sweet smiles.
Edison wrapped his arms around Bishop’s back. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“I’m not mad, Eddie. Just disappointed. I wanted to be alone with you.”
“We’re alone now,” Edison whispered.
Bishop placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, dipping his head lower and burrowing into the side of his jaw with his rough stubble. “Come on. Let’s get that book.”
Edison inched back and glanced down between them. “I’m glad I’m wearing a jacket.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Bishop
Bishop adjusted himself before he walked inside the brightly lit bookstore. He held Edison’s hand tightly and let him lead them through the throngs of displays, navigating the aisles as if he knew the place well. He didn’t mind trailing behind so he could watch Edison’s nice ass move in those expensive-looking jeans. Edison’s clothes always fit him just right, and all Bishop could think about was stripping him out of them and worshiping every inch of him.
“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.” Bish
op 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.
“What are you thinking about so hard over there?” Edison asked, walking until he was standing beside him.
Bishop set his beer on the island and turned to face him head-on. “I was thinking I want to be your boyfriend, but wondering if guys even ask that anymore.”
Edison’s smile started slowly before he was soon beaming. “I… I don’t know if they do or not. I think most people just change their Facebook relationship status and that’s that. But, I’m a bit old-fashioned.”
“I noticed… and I like that.” Bishop felt his own lips tugging in the corners as he placed both hands over Edison’s cheeks and lifted his head until he was looking at him. “I wanna be your man, Edison.”
Edison nodded.
“Good,” Bishop murmured against Edison’s lips, then kissed him as thoroughly as he’d wanted to in the bookstore. One of them groaned and Bishop felt Edison’s soft hands on his throat, then along the back of his neck. He grunted against the urge to thrust his hips, and instead hugged Edison’s waist closely, his eyes shut tight as pleasure flooded his body. Pleasure like he’d never known. He felt such a deep connection to Edison that went far beyond his sexual needs, and straight to his hurt soul. Somehow, this remarkable man was all up in his head, and it only made coming together like this that much more powerful and that much more stimulating.
“Come on,” Edison panted as he broke them apart. He took Bishop’s hand and started to lead him down the hall, past the guest bathroom, to his bedroom. Edison opened the door, flicking on a light switch that started the ceiling fan. Edison released his hand and walked farther into the room, next to a large, neatly-made bed, and turned on the lamp atop one of the nightstands. Bishop glanced around, noticing the furniture was big and comfortable just like in the rest of the house, but there were more books and pictures filling the shelves on the wall and the two tall dressers on the opposite side of the room. Bishop would have to explore those later.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Edison
Edison draped his jacket across the ottoman of the one chair in his room. “Just make yourself comfortable, I’m gonna use the bathroom.” Edison hoped his voice wasn’t as shaky as he felt.
Bishop was watching him like a lion watched a gazelle. The hunger and inevitable capture was all there in those dark eyes, and Edison felt his body react.
Holy moly! Edison mouthed after he closed himself in his bathroom, leaning against the door in awe. He wasn’t scared, not even a little bit. He was at ease with Bishop and he was more than ready to take this next step… with his boyfriend. He couldn’t believe it. Finally! He’d really been enjoying Bishop’s company and getting to know him over the past month, but he’d tried not to get too excited on the off-chance things didn’t work out. Which they typically didn’t for him in that department. He wasn’t as naive as most people thought he was, and for him to snag a man like Bishop was a one in a million dream come true for him. Not because of Bishop’s appearance and that they made an interesting-looking couple, but because Bishop was one of the most gentle, sweetest, talented, smart, ambitious men he’d ever met. And yes, heck yes, he wanted Bishop to be his boyfriend, his man, his first, his lover, his… his all. It was a risk, a helluva gamble. But Bishop had always been honest and real with him from the beginning. Edison had had the man alone in his home for weeks and Bishop had given him no reason not to trust him… especially with his heart.
Edison loosened the top two buttons of his dress shirt, then unbuttoned and rolled up the sleeves. He washed his hands, then hurried to floss, and brush his teeth. His hands trembled when he snatched the hand towel off the rack to dry his face. He checked his reflection in the full-length mirror, and ran his hand over his chest, feeling good about himself… feeling ready. He turned off the light and eased the door closed behind him. His eyes locked on Bishop’s back as he stood in front of one of his dressers looking at the many photos of him and his pop. He felt his face warm when Bishop lingered on a photo of him—a hundred pounds heavier—and his father in front of his barber shop.
His heart almost leapt into his throat when Bishop turned to face him. His shoes and everything were still on, but his jet black button-up shirt was wide open, displaying Bishop’s broad chest. He tried to breathe normally as he took in the smooth, black hair that ran down Bishop’s abs and into his waistband.
“Eddie,” Bishop called his name, his rough tone shooting lust straight to his groin, making him want to fold over. “C’mere, baby.”
Edison met Bishop at the end of the bed. And like always, Bishop’s hands went to his face. His rough thumbs massaged circles along his cheeks as Bishop gazed down on him. He slowly dipped his head and pressed his nose along his jaw, dragging it across his cheekbone and inhaling deeply. Edison began to shake, and Bishop inched even closer, bringing with him a warmth that heated the goosebumps popping up all over his neck and arms.
“Fuck, you always smell so damn good,” Bishop groaned against Edison’s lips, stealing his breath away with a kiss that made his toes curl in his shoes.
He held on to Bishop’s waist, and while he continued to lick and sample Edison’s flavor, he eased his hands inside Bishop’s shirt and around his back. He ran his palms over tight, hard muscles covered with hot, golden skin. Muscles that were from the hard, strenuous work that Bishop did every day. He brought his hands up and cupped Bishop’s shoulders, massaging him while he kissed him.
Bishop wrenched his mouth away, gasping for air. He wrapped his arms around Edison’s waist and buried his face in his neck. The gravelly sensation of Bishop’s voice vibrated the sensitive skin behind his ear. “Your hands feel so good. They’re so soft. Do you like moisturize or something?”
Edison chuckled quietly but kept up his massage. “You saying I have a woman’s hands?”
Bishop’s chest shook with his quiet laugh. “Mmm. I don’t care. Man or woman. They’re your hands and they feel amazing on me.”
Bishop’s confession made Edison feel a bit bolder. He loved the way that hard chest felt against his own, but he wanted to feel it with his hands… bathe it with his tongue. Edison’s fingertips danced around Bishop’s waist until they were on his abs. He raked his short nails through the dark hair before he began smoothing the silky strands with his palms. Bishop moaned, his head down, watching Edison touch him. He explored each ridge and valley in between and Bishop never stopped him, just let him have his way. Bishop’s pecs were thick and firm with tight, beaded nipples in the center of them. The hair was thinner across his chest, but no less delectable.
“You’re killing me,” Bishop turned them until the backs of Edison’s legs were against the mattress. “Can I undress you?”
It was hard for Edison to look elsewhere with Bishop’s shirt wide open, but he managed to n
od. Bishop kissed him again and Edison melted into it, his hands making a permanent home on Bishop’s pecs. Bishop sucked on his tongue in a way that made Edison’s cock throb and leak in his boxer shorts. Before he knew it, his own shirt was splayed open and Bishop’s sure hands were pulling his T-shirt from his jeans. He heard the clanking of his belt and the pop of a button, but Bishop didn’t try to remove his pants, for which he was glad. He didn’t want to stand naked in front of Bishop with him still fully dressed.
He tried to control the almost violent tremors he experienced when Bishop’s callused hands were on his bare skin. He didn’t lift his shirt over his head, instead he explored blindly while he made love to his mouth. Edison tilted his head higher, feeling dizzy, almost high off of his boyfriend’s size and bulk alone. Bishop rocked his hips gently, his wide palms determined and eager. His right nipple was squeezed, and Edison moaned but Bishop didn’t break the kiss, instead taking advantage of his slack mouth to suck on his bottom lip. “Oh god,” Edison cried.
“Mmmm. I knew you’d feel this fucking good. I knew it,” Bishop whispered. He removed his hands from beneath Edison’s shirt, and he wanted to beg for them back. As if Bishop was in tune with what his body was begging for—skin on skin—Bishop slowly peeled off Edison’s dress shirt then his white tee.
When Edison was bare from the waist up, he couldn’t help but glance down at his own body then at Bishop’s. There was no denying the big, big difference on the outside, but it still made Edison smile, because he and Bishop were the same on the inside—hearts of pure gold. Even from opposite backgrounds, Edison still felt they were kindred spirits. Two souls who were so desperate for one another that it manifested through their touch. They were caressing, stroking and squeezing each other so intensely that Edison was afraid he’d have to slow them down before their nightcap ended before it could get started.
