CHAPTER TWEENTY ONE
Flipping through a book, Bishop idled away his time. Dinner had come and gone. With it, a few Seven Tribesmen had visited and disappeared into the night. The noise in the hallway died down as the night shift nurses swept in. The electronic garble from radios and television sets died away as sleep crept across the patients or – more often than not – visiting loved ones.
There Bishop sat, his gaze traversing the same page he'd gone over for the last half hour. Exhaustion nipped at the back of his eyes, but sleep eluded him. His mind continuously tripped back to Stella. How was she? Was she safe? A knot in his gut soured his thoughts as he wondered if she had fallen into Stan's arms for protection. Sighing, Bishop put down his book and pinched at the bridge of his nose. Suspicions whirled around Stella's male counterpart and, eventually, traipsed to the White Knights.
Very little had been revealed about the White Knights and their interest in Stella. Coyote had further interrogated the thugs as they woke up from their unconsciousness. The injured enemies claimed they were merely hired and not initiates or members of the White Knights. The rival gang had hired them to kidnap Stella under the premise of using her life against the Seven Tribesmen. The men had different stories – from holding her for ransom to pinning her disappearance on the 7T – but all theories made Bishop's stomach clench with disgust.
Under his request, Qwerty had gone home and begun to cyber sleuth. He was supposed to review the surveillance from the Rusty Bear – whether through hacking into the Grand River Police Department's system or requesting the recordings from the owners of the bar – and report in the morning. There was also an extensive background search still being compiled against Agent Jackson. Stella Holmes's check came back squeaky clean. Not even a speeding ticket.
Bishop snorted, unable to help the grin that curled at his lips. Deep down, beneath the thorns and self-taught defensiveness, Stella possessed the soul of a “good girl.” He stopped that thought short, his lips twitching into a frown. People had more facets than good or bad; he knew that much. As much as Bishop fantasized, lumping Stella with any label, enjoyable or otherwise, would simply make things worse.
The sudden opening of his door roused him from his thoughts. His grey eyes flicked to the entryway and his heart sputtered. Standing in the doorway, with wide eyes and a somewhat lost expression, was Stella. She stepped into his room, her duffel bag bouncing off her hip. Stella closed the privacy curtains to the room, before turning to Bishop.
She felt a sudden heat rake over her cheeks. Her inner turmoil didn't find any reprieve under Bishop's grey gaze. In fact, his gaze made her heart shudder and her body simmer intensely. Her gaze fell to her feet as the words croaked from her throat, “I overheard Stan talking to Delilah.”
Bishop's curiosity pinged off the radar. He attempted to stifle his interest as he shifted in his bed. “What about?”
“Delilah overdosed you, and Stan was a part of it.” The words rushed out of Stella in one breath. Her heart twisted, waiting for the inevitable blow back from Bishop.
The man blinked, the information taking a second to register. When the words made sense in his head, his brain flared with fury. His fists clenched on the bed sheet. For those few microseconds, intense hatred infused every thought. Firecrotch was probably the reason two of his men were in lock-up, too.
Before he could respond, Stella pushed further. In one breath, she gasped, “Delilah also said something about him and his White Knight boys.”
That information added barb to his already furious thoughts. Through the fog of rage, though, his gaze swung to Stella. His eyes widened, just slightly, as he grunted, “Stan is part of the White Knights?”
Stella shook her head, lips wrenched into a frown, “He explicitly stated he's an affiliate. That's it.”
“Still...” Bishop growled, his gaze flickering away from Stella. He couldn't bear to watch her expression once she found out. Just eavesdropping on Delilah and Stan had sent her running. For some reason, that meant toward him. He couldn't complain, but he didn't want to shatter the remainder of Stella's strength. Instead, he toed at the dark tide, “Your abductors claimed to be hired by the White Knights.”
“I...I didn't know,” Stella breathed. Anxiety propelling her feet, she paced along the foot of Bishop's bed. She ran a hand through her hair, her mind wildly trying to straighten the knot in her thoughts. Stan had pointedly kept her out of questioning. He said he was worried her conflict of interest would create issues, but what if he just didn't want her nosing around and finding out the truth? “Stan said he couldn't question them, because most of them were unconscious or demanding lawyers.”
“Yeah, well, he lied.”
“I'm beginning to get the picture.” Stella shook her head and paced back along the room. As she advanced on his bed, she paused and laid her hands on the foot board. Her warm, brown gaze ticked up to his face, her brow creased with concern. “I'm sorry, Bishop.”
“It's fine,” he sighed, masking his immense relief with nonchalance. A part of the man understood her distrust in his claims. “What reason did you have to believe me?”
“You haven't attacked me, lied to me, or tried to get me abducted.” Under Stella's hands, the plastic board creaked. Her lips twisted into a dark scowl. She averted her gaze, glaring off into a midpoint in the distance. Something huge was missing from her understanding. “I just don't understand why. Why would Stan get the White Knights involved with me?”
“He's enamored with you, Stella.” Bishop watched the woman as she returned to pacing, concern nipping at his heart. She reminded him of a caged and wounded tiger, ready to lash out at the first enemy he saw. As much as Bishop wanted to redirect her focus, Stella needed to meet an important fact. “If he knew about the rivalry between the 7T and the White Knights, both of them had something to gain by kidnapping you.”
“What do you mean?” She stopped again, pinning Bishop with her stormy, dark gaze.
“Either Stan would play hero, and the 7T would take the fall.” Bishop locked his gaze with hers. The need for this to be known, for his suspicions to be met with agreement by her, ate at his mind. “Or they would have used you as bait to get to me.”
“They wouldn't know if that'd work, though,” Stella huffed, shaking her head.
“Considering what happened, I'd say they were right on the money.”
Stella fell silent, and her feet paused. She turned to Bishop, her heart shivering under his gaze. As soon as she turned to him, Bishop tore his gaze away. His eyes focused on his hands in his lap, where he bunched up the blanket tightly between his digits. A slight pink tinge licked over his cheeks. Her head suddenly throbbed as it trailed over Thomas's insinuations. Her chest and synapses ached under the breakneck speed of revelations.
Without looking at Stella, Bishop murmured, “You should sit. I have something else to mention.”
Stella didn't argue. She rounded Bishop's bed, running on auto-pilot. Her mind drowned in numbness, but her heart felt hot and electrified. Somewhere in the mess of chaos that was her thought, some guilty light had begun to shine. As she settled down beside the man, Stella waited for him to talk.
“The man who attacked you, the one who knocked you out with chloroform.” Bishop hesitated to look at her. The ache to reach out, to touch her, to press his fingertips against her, grew too strong. He turned his grey gaze to her, his hand landing heavily on her shoulder. “I believe that was your partner.”
Stella's eyes widened, a cold jolt shooting down her spine. “Why?”
“A tattoo on his shin.” Bishop squeezed her shoulder and rubbed his thumb into her. “A white knight chess piece.”
Stella shook her head, eyebrows furrowing in befuddlement. “How do you know he has one of those?”
“He wore those khaki shorts on your date to show off his gams.” Bishop smiled, jokingly. He listed his head to the side, his eyebrows shooting up in mock surprise. “Jesus, woman, didn't you notice?”
Stella's eyebrows furrowed, before a smile split over her lips. An almost-delirious giggle pealed from her lips. The sound was like music to Bishop's ears. For the moment, at least, Stella wasn't hurt and broken beyond revival. The woman leaned toward him, pressing her forehead into his shoulder. A wave of purpose melted over him. She needed support, another form of strength.
Bishop took a deep breath, and his arms instantly wrapped around her body. The shake of giggles soon morphed into trembling cries. Her hands found their way to his chest, careful not to make his injury worse. Tears streaked down her cheeks, dampening Bishop's hospital gown. When was the last time she cried in someone's arms? The last time she let herself take solace, take strength, from someone else?
Of all the people who made her feel safest, it had to be Arthur Bishop the outlaw biker. She couldn't even trust her partner.
The irony sunk into her like a razor sharp edge.
Bishop's arms tightened around her. He wanted to ease her worries. He didn't want her in such a tearful heap in his arms, as much as he enjoyed her body pressed against his. Softly, he muttered, “Don't you have a superior you could report this to?”
“The outlaw is telling me to report.” The woman chuckled sarcastically. She shifted and gently pulled away from Bishop's arms. Her palm grazed against her cheeks, wiping away her tears. For the moment, the intensity had subsided. “My superior is hundreds of miles away, and I have no hard proof that he did this to me. All I have is hearsay and the testimony of an outlaw biker.”
Bishop fell silent. Evidence, hm? Perhaps Qwerty would dig something up that would be of use to Ms. Holmes as well. The longer his thoughts drifted over that night, the more his muscles twitched with rage. All traces of exhaustion had dissipated in favor of anger. He almost wanted to climb out of bed and hunt Stan Jackson down himself.
Stella's soft palm on his neck instantly drew him from murderous thoughts. His gaze focused on her face, the breath suddenly locking in his lungs. Her feather light touch taunted his skin and shot electric pleasure across the expanse of his body. Bishop swallowed heavily as Stella's head cocked to the side. “Can I stay here for the night?”
“I don't know about that,” Bishop sighed and leaned back. A teasing grin curled at his lips. “The nurses are hardasses.”
She snorted, not buying his excuse. “As if they'd tell you no visitors.”
“Well, I do need my rest to heal.” Bishop grinned as Stella rolled her eyes. Something enjoyable prickled between the two of them, their skin itched with delight. Or so Bishop thought.
“Arthur, I'm serious.” Stella locked their gazes together, her fingers tightening on the collar of the hospital gown. She swallowed as pleasant heat and chilly fear battled inside of her. The confusion only drew her closer to Bishop, leaning into his comforting heat. Stella pressed her forehead to his shoulder again and muttered, “Stan knows where I stay.”
“I didn't think of that.” Bishop's grin fell, his hands ghosting up her arms. Goosebumps prickled along her skin, her flesh cold and clammy to the touch. His fingers laced through her hair, sifting the brown locks between his digits. “I'd love it if you stayed, Stella.”
“Thank you.” She shifted, raising herself up far enough to see his face. Stella's eyes flicked from his eyes to his lips. Desire tugged at her insides. She wanted to forget about these revelations, take a breath, and enjoy herself. Ease herself away from the veil that protected her from excessive paranoia.
She inhaled Bishop's scent and relished in his warmth. One of his hands pressed against Stella's back, hot and firm through her clothes. His other hand played with her hair, sending pleasing tingles along Stella's scalp. Their eyes locked, lips hovering close to one another.
Attraction drew them closer together, like opposite ends of a magnet. Stella's eyes fluttered shut, Bishop's soon following, as their lips met. Electricity roiled through him, razing his achy muscles. Her hand clenched at his shirt, tugging him closer as their kiss deepened. Stella leaned into him, one of her hands trailed upward through his hair, tugging at his locks. The man groaned low under his breath, his body craving everything about Stella.
The sound sent pleasurable heat through her, making her lower tummy clench with anticipation.
Bishop suddenly grunted and flinched. He jerked away, cursing under his breath. Pain echoed through his chest, his breath shortened and raspy. He threw Stella an apologetic smile, “Sorry, still healing.”
Stella straightened up, her hand drifting away from his body. “I shouldn't put so much strain on you.”
“It's fi–” Stella pressed a finger to his lips, her dark eyes catching his gaze. Amusement tinged Stella's expression as curiosity pricked at Bishop's thoughts. She pushed herself off the bed and wandered to the curtains, all the while he watched her hungrily. Stella peeked out of the curtains, into the corridor. Only one nurse sat in the darkened hallway at the nurse's station.
As Stella turned, she turned the lights down gently in Bishop's room. She faced him in the gentle light, a smile curled across her lips. All her worries and all her fears had been packaged far, far away. Right now, all she wanted to do was focus on Bishop.
“I still need to repay you,” she purred, taking measured steps closer to him. Stella's fingers worked at her blouse's buttons, undoing each one.
“For what?” he croaked, eyes hot with desire. Bishop hungrily watched her unbutton her shirt, the shirt flaps flanking her body. He swallowed, memories of her soft flesh under his fingers burning through his mind.
Stella cocked a crooked smile at him as she slipped the blouse off her shoulders. “For that stunt in my office.”
Bishop managed to remember the event, residual hormones racing to his groin. The memories ticked across his mind, the grunts, the groans, and the exciting potential of being caught. He licked his lips, a smirk twisting at his lips as his gaze licked over Stella. “One problem, I don't care if any nurses walk in on us.”
“And how do you feel about perpetual teasing?” Stella grinned as her fingers made short work of her pants. The fabric pooled around her feet and she kicked off her work shoes, before stepping out of the fallen clothing. She sauntered closer to the man, his eyes hot with molten desire. Excited prickles tickled along her flesh.
It took Bishop a few breaths to realize what Stella insinuated. By that time, Stella's mostly-naked body climbed onto the bed, the mattress shifting under her weight. Her face hovered by his, her hot breath playing havoc with his hormones, “You wouldn't.”
Stella flashed him a smile, before her lips lowered to his neck. Instant delight rushed over his skin. Heat puddled in his lower stomach, his intimate parts straining against his gown. The warmth grew as Stella's hands crept beneath the covers and up his gown. Her nails skimmed up his thighs, over his abdomen, and gingerly trailed up to his shoulders.
Bishop groaned lightly, leaning his head back against the headboard with his eyes closed. Achy pain and electric pleasure mixed in his body, a satisfying cocktail of sensations. Everything throbbed inside of him. Stella shifted into Bishop's lap, straddling his hips. She sucked and nipped up his neck as her digits skittered to Bishop's back. He barely realized she undid his back ties until the gown fell off his body. Chill, dry air teased over his skin. Bishop cracked his eyes open as Stella leaned back.
Her brown eyes razed over his body, admiring the musculature and the scars. Stella's gaze lingered on the gauze taped to his upper chest. It was a huge swath of bandage, fresh and white. Her fingertips ghosted over it, concern blatant on her face as Stella's gaze drew back to Bishop's face. “You don't have to do this if you don't want to, Bishop.”
“Honey, if I ever don't want this, you might as well order my coffin,” Bishop snorted, a grin curled at his lips. His hands drifted over her body, from her shoulders, over her breasts and down her sides.
Stella relished in the feeling of his warm, rough palms on her body. In spite of the flurrying hormones, worry still creased her brow. “I'm serious. What if your wound reopens or–”
“You're half-naked and on top of me, Stella,” Bishop growled, grabbing her hips suddenly. He tugged her down, against his growing erection. His lips drifted to her neck and a throaty growl raked over Stella's skin, “This amount of teasing is cruel and unusual punishment.”
She gasped and arched her back, feeling his thick cock beneath the fabric of his gown. Her pussy throbbed eager to be reacquainted with Bishop's member. Stella bit her bottom lip, concern swiftly melting away with Bishop's every word. The man was a big boy; he could make his own choices. Obviously, he wanted her, and no amount of potential pain stood in his way.
In a way, Stella enjoyed his insistence. She slipped back on his lap, her gaze watching him intently. Bishop's lips twisted into a grin, his hungry grey eyes followed her down. The bunched up hospital gown shifted as his erection grew and strained. Through the flimsy fabric, Stella palmed his cock. Bishop leaned back, a light groan on his lips as he watched her push aside the gown.
Hot prickly delight stewed in Bishop's groin. Over the last few days, he doubted any more dalliances with Stella. However, here she was, her lips slowly migrating down to his erect dick. He swallowed, anticipation dotting his thoughts. Just a few more inches, centimeters, millimeters. Stella's hot breath tickled the head of his cock just milliseconds before her tongue flicked out. Warm, malleable and wet, it made his manhood bob in pleasure.
Stella tore her gaze away from Bishop's face, as her lips lowered onto his erection. A slight thrill ran down her spine as his hot, firm cock met her lips. Almost as soon as her lips took him in, Bishop tensed and groaned. Heat wrapped around him, nudging his temperature higher. His chest rose and fell with deep, measured breaths. While Bishop didn't actively care if the nurses found out about this rendezvous, he didn't want the fun ending too soon.
She inched further down his sex, taking more and more of it into her hot, soft mouth. As Stella slowly made it to his base, Bishop grunted softly under his breath, “Fuck.”
Her lips twitched in a smile around his erection, hearing his breathy moan. As she bobbed up and down his cock, her tongue writhed and she made small sounds around him. Bishop was having a hard time keeping his breathing under control. Every lick from her tongue, every moan, every bit of friction made the hormones in his head flare and his body twitch with pleasure. It didn't help that Stella maintained such a slow and steady pace.
He wanted rough, hard, and hot. Bishop's hands shifted to the back of Stella's head, fingers curling into her hair. He followed her head up and down, resisting the urge to grab her and thrust himself. No, Stella wanted to be in control and, frankly, he'd put up with an eon of teasing for these moments.
Stella's hands found their way to his balls. She cupped and cradled his gonads, rubbing them gently. Bishop tensed and his fingers tightened in her hair. She wondered how long the man could deal with gentle touches and a consistent pace. Would it draw him close to the edge? Would it, eventually, push him into a release?
Her body reacted to his pleasure. Stella's nipples hardened against the fabric of her bra and her panties dampened with excitement. Her pussy clenched, eager to be filled with Bishop's cock. She moaned around his cock at the very thought.
The vibrations from her mouth sent wave of pleasure over his nerves. He gasped and groaned, his hands pressing her head down further against his cock. His hips bucked upward, involuntarily. Stella pulled back, off his member, pushing Bishop's hands from her head. The sudden cold made Bishop flinch. The pressure and heat in his groin abated, just slightly, and his gaze dragged to Stella.
She smiled up at him, a cat playing with her prey. That very expression sent a hot-cold bolt of desire down Bishop's spine. Her tongue flicked out and gave long, languid licks along his shaft. Heat infused his thoughts and melted into his body, puffs of breath escaped his mouth in huffs. Bishop's muscles tensed, his fingers twitched, his toes curled as Stella, without breaking their joined gazes, continued to massage his cock with her tongue.
“This is agonizing, Stella.” His groan came out low and needy.
“Oh?” She paused at his head. Her breath ghosted over the head of his member while her lips taunted it with feather-light movements, “You can't move much. Shouldn't I take advantage of this?”
“I can't fault you there,” Bishop chuckled. He felt hot and sticky, his lower tummy churning with pleasure. He cocked a half-grin at the woman, “But what goes around comes arou–”
Bishop stuttered to a stop as the woman moved. She wiggled out of her underwear and moved over his body. Her breasts, still hampered by the damned bra, brushed against his body, sending electric tingles through his skin. His breathing deepened, and his heart raced. Bishop watched Stella move, languid and graceful, atop him. His breath caught in his throat as her wet, hot pussy pressed against his groin. A shuddering groan left his lips, while he basked in her heat.
Stella rolled her hips forward, evoking more pleased twitching and grunts from Bishop. Her lower tummy clenched with every one of his minute reactions. As gently as she could, Stella adjusted her hips, her lips flanking the head of his erection. Bishop bit his bottom lip, his fingers tightening against the bed spread. She wiggled atop him, shifting the tip of his penis against her wet, warm recesses. A taunting promise. Bishop struggled against thrusting upward, in burying himself inside the woman's lovely sex.
He didn't need to resist for long. Stella dropped herself onto his cock, thrusting him deep and hard in one go. Sparks glittered at the edges of Bishop's sight. He sharply inhaled, before a loud groan left his lips. Heat and pulsing muscles throbbed around him. His brain became muzzy from hormones and red-hot passion.
His hands drifted up her legs as Stella ground against him, gyrating her hips. The friction burned away his thoughts, but Bishop managed to get his fingers up her back and onto her bra. He fumbled with the constraint, before the damnable thing fell off her shoulders. Her breasts rose and fell with her breaths, her nipples already tightened beads. His palms gravitated to her tits, palming her nipples and relinquishing light gasps from Stella. His gaze darted to her face, a cocked smirk on his lips. “Don't get too loud now, Stella.”
“I'd say the same to you.” She narrowed her eyes, her cheeks a pleasant pinch of pink. She suddenly jerked her hips up and down, the friction hauling moans out of Bishop's mouth. Bracing herself on his headboard, Stella began to pump up and down his erection. The strong, even rhythm pushed Bishop closer and closer, his hands becoming rougher as his balls tightened from the impending release.
Stella's ragged gasps increased as Bishop's hand pinched and kneaded at her breasts. Her fingernails dug into the plastic head board. From the corner of her eye, she saw Bishop's half-smirk. She wanted to wipe it off his smug face. And she knew exactly what she wanted to do.
Bishop leaned his head back against the headboard, barely swallowing down his moans. The bed creaked beneath their bodies. He was somewhat surprised no orderly came to check on him. His heart rate and temperature had to be spiking. That didn't matter, though. His body tensed beneath Stella's talented hips and the pleasure sunk into his skin as her lips found his throat. She bit and sucked at his throat, as if marking him. A thrill went through Bishop at that thought. Generally, he staked claim, but he wasn't adverse to a woman doing similar.
Tension strained over his muscles, his body stretched. His toes curled and his cock twitched expectantly. He was on the brink. All he could feel, all he could think about, was Stella's body. Her soft breasts still weighed in his palms. Her thighs squeezing his hips. Her body moving, her gentle gasps, the way she wiggled when his member was entirely within her. Bishop's hands shot to Stella's hips, knowing he would involuntarily buck when his orgasm came.
Then all wet heat left him. He gasped and his eyes flew opened. Already, the hard work to shove him close to the edge dwindled. The heat cooled inside of him, leaving a lump of disappointment. Stella grinned down at him, just as her pussy lips slid across his shaft. Still wet and swollen, they almost – not quite – felt as good as being buried balls' deep in her.
“Mean,” Bishop growled, with mock anger.
Stella simply smiled and stuck her tongue out at him. Just as temptation slid over him, Stella rolled her hips and managed to sink his cock into her soft pussy, yet again. All thoughts of minor revenge dissipated as his erection relished in her womanhood.
She swallowed down her appraising moans. Her hips rocked back and forth, his thick dick grazing over her insides. Bishop seemed to fill her, stretch her, take up everything inside of her. Heat licked at her lower tummy, tension strong and tight. She wanted nothing more than to ride him, fast and hard, to feel his hot cum explode inside of her. However, a small part of Stella kept her quiet. They hadn't done anything to attract attention to them, but she didn't want to risk it.
The two resumed their steady rhythm. Both relishing the heat of the other. Bishop's hands clutched at Stella's hips, his nails biting painfully-pleasantly into her skin. Stella huffed and quietly moaned under her breath. Every movement, ever slight sound, sent excitement coursing through Bishop's thoughts. What if someone came to check on his fluctuating readings? What if someone walked in on them? His stomach clenched with amusement and desire.
Steadily, Bishop's orgasm ascended, licking at his crest. An itch of desire flew through his limbs. He bit down the urge to slam Stella down, over and over, fill her entirely and pump her with his release. No, Stella was in charge and she, agonizingly, took the slow and steady way. His fingers curled tightly around her hips.
Stella had to swallow down temptations of her own. Her own desire pounded up her walls, threatening to spill over her own self-control. Her body felt hot and tight, throbbing around Bishop's cock.
Bishop rolled his hips, her self-control stuttered. For a brief moment, Stella roughly rolled her hips, fast and hard. Sparks of erotic energy tensed between them both. Bishop gave out a low, guttural groan as he slammed Stella down, over and over, against him. Molten delight expanded and bubbled throughout Stella as she barely swallowed down her loud moans and borderline screams. The bed squealed beneath them. His body ached, see-sawing between pain and pleasure.
“Fuck, Stella.” Bishop threw his head back, the pleasure cresting over him as his body tensed like a piano string. He clamped her down to him, his cock throbbing and pulsing with every release.
The heat exploded inside Stella and she gasped, gyrating her hips desperately against Bishop. In a breathy, fragile tone, she whimpered, “Arthur!”
His warmth licked every crevice of her insides, taunted every swollen nerve with further pleasure. Her body shook atop his, pleased tremors reaching out from her exhausted core. Her toes curled and fingers clenched as she threw herself against Bishop. The feel of his body, sweaty and firm, under her grounded her as her shivers subsided.
Thoroughly spent, Stella sighed into Bishop's shoulder as his arms wrapped tightly around her. His fingers rubbed gently into her back, easing residual tension from her body. Before long, the woman happily fell into a deep slumber, her worries overridden by hormonal exhaustion. Bishop silently held her, basking in the euphoria of the ideal surprise.
As the afterglow abated, Bishop's expression became pinched. There was one thing he had to do, for Stella, before he submitted himself to unconsciousness.
Despite the sleep tugging at his eyelids, he grabbed his cellphone from the bedside table. Bishop only had enough energy to send Qwerty a text, before he carelessly dropped his phone back to the table. Bishop, with Stella atop him, sunk down in his bed. His arms clamped her too him as sleep overtook his senses.