Chapter Three
Bishop
I know I should’ve gone straight home after I left Jonah’s office. I shouldn’t have stopped off at the bar where some of the rougher aspects of Auckland society hang out. But I did. I shouldn’t have had the ten or so beers that kept coming my way, but I did. I most definitely shouldn’t have taken the vial of white powder offered to me by a friend of a friend of a friend, but I did. I didn’t even bother going into the bathroom, I just arranged the neat lines on the tabletop and snorted them, right there in the open. It’s not like anyone in the bar cared, or shit, hadn’t done the same, if not worse, themselves. Now I find myself stumbling along the corridor to the apartment Jake and I share, wanting desperately to be with him but knowing if I was a decent human being, I would leave him be. Too bad I’m not a decent human being.
He’s sitting on the couch when I eventually get my key in the door and stumble through. God, he looks like the best parts of everything. My heart beats quicker when I see him, and despite the drugs and alcohol in my system, my dick still manages to react to his presence.
“You’re home,” he says in his deep voice. I want to say that I’m home in more ways than one, but I don’t, I can’t. He’s got me swept up in his spell, and all I can do is give him a stupid nod. God, I want him. He gets up and helps me bring my bags inside, brushing past me, sparks igniting where we touch. Or that may be from the cocaine; either way, I don’t care. His cologne leaves a trail behind him, and I turn to follow it. The moment the apartment door closes I pounce on him, slamming him against it, pushing my aching dick against his goddamn perfect arse.
“What the fuck?” he asks.
He pushes away from the door slightly, allowing my eager hands to run all over his chest and abs—those abs!—before moving down his thighs and up to cup his dick. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about this before,” I whisper in his ear, taking the lobe in my mouth and tugging on it with my teeth.
“Bishop, stop,” he says, but makes no moves to stop me.
“You smell so good,” I say, running my nose along his neck before nipping, sucking, and biting it.
“Bish…,” Jake says, almost pleading with me. To do what, I’m not sure. I know what I’d prefer, so I’m going with that.
“I want you,” I tell him. “I’ve wanted you since I was thirteen years old.” Spinning him so that his back is now against the door and I can face him, I cup his face and force him to look at me and hear the seriousness is my words. “I love you, Jake. I always have, I always will.” Without waiting for his reply, I smash my lips against his. They’re full and soft, his stubble scratching my palms, but I don’t care. I’ve waited for this moment for eleven years. The kiss is different than I expected. His lips match mine, force for force. We’re equals, and it turns me on even more.
But it all comes tumbling down when he rips his face from my grip.
“You’re drunk,” he says, his voice laced with disgust.
“It doesn’t mean I want you any less,” I say, and grind my dick against him. It’s so hard it’s almost painful.
“Bishop, stop,” he says, grabbing hold of my biceps and pushing me away.
“Why?” I ask and try to get to him again. “We’ve waited so long. Why have we waited this long, Jake? Huh? Why? What was the point?” I implore, staring into his perfect blue eyes.
“Are you high?” he asks, grabbing me by the chin and pulling me closer. I take advantage of our proximity, grabbing his hips and grinding against him. “Bishop,” he says, shaking the hand still holding my face, “answer me. Are. You. High?”
“God, you feel so good,” I say as I continue to rub against him. “Imagine what this would feel like if we were naked.” Deciding that’s an excellent idea, I reach for his belt and try to undo it.
“Bishop, stop!” Jake yells, pushing me away. I stumble and end up on the floor. He shakes his head. “You need to go to bed, sleep off whatever you’re on.”
I manage to get up and walk over to him again. “All I need is you,” I tell him and kiss him again.
He breaks the kiss. “You’re drunk and you’re high. You don’t know what you’re doing, what you’re saying.”
I shake my head. “I know exactly what I’m doing, and I want to be doing you.”
He rests his head on my shoulder and I run my hands up his sides, over his back and into his short hair. It’s wiry and thick, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything so good. “You know you want this, J. We both do, and now there’s nothing stopping us. My world has fallen apart. I stood up to Jonah. I have nothing left so let’s be reckless and stupid and do all the things we shouldn’t.” I thought my words would tip him over the edge into my arms, but instead, they seem to have had the opposite effect. With a shove, he pushes me away and stalks past me.
“Go to bed, Bishop.”
A minute later, his bedroom door slams shut.