Chapter 13
Brooke
“You really take a nap before the game?” I ask Bishop as we walk down the hall to my hotel room.
“Most guys do, especially when we’re on the road,” he says. He’s clutching my hand, our arms swinging slightly as we walk, which seems to have become the norm now.
I don’t even remember falling asleep last night. One moment I’m getting an amazing back rub and anticipating some great sex. The next moment Bishop’s alarm clock on his phone is waking us up at 8 A.M. I was groggy and it took me a moment to realize I was in my hotel bed with Bishop. He promptly rolled toward me and more than made up for the sex we didn’t have the night before. He wasn’t in a hurry and it was all lazy kisses and slow, roaming hands. Bishop even took his time rolling the condom on, almost like a reverse striptease, while I watched him with my tongue practically hanging out of my mouth. God…something about a man touching himself…stroking his—
“Did you hear what I said?” Bishop asks me as we stop before my room door.
I turn my face to him and just blink stupidly. “Not quite.”
“I asked if you’d rather go do something,” he says, and I realize he’s offering to take me out and about downtown San Francisco during what is his normal rest period before the game.
I actually think that qualifies as asking me out on our first date, because the team dinner didn’t really count on Saturday night since I would have gone to that with or without Bishop. Hanging out at my house most of Sunday before the plane left didn’t count either.
Turning into him, I rest my hand on his chest and go up to my tiptoes to plant a kiss on his mouth. There’s nothing weird about me making that move. It’s not part of an act, but rather a pure reaction from me that he offered something so sweet.
“Thank you,” I tell him as I roll backward, bringing my heels to the floor. “But you are absolutely not going to do anything that deviates from your normal pregame rituals. I may not be a nut about the sport, but I know enough to know that your strength is important for tonight.”
Bishop had explained to me over breakfast this morning how today would play out. I knew some of it because as a member of Vengeance Team Services, I had helped coordinate much of the schedule. That included a catered lunch buffet at the hotel after the morning practice. The home team Brawlers had the ice at 10 A.M. and the Vengeance took the ice at eleven. The practice also included time for the players to get in light workouts if they choose, or even treatments from the training staff such as ice baths or massages.
After the lunch, the players had free time until the bus would leave for the arena at 4:30 P.M., where I’ve arranged for a healthy catered team dinner. This is where Bishop filled in the blanks and told me that most players just nap during the few hours they have free. He promptly informed me that he’d be coming back to my room for the nap, as he didn’t want to hear Tacker snore. How he knew Tacker snored was beyond me.
Bishop takes my key card from my hand and opens the door. He pushes it open for me to precede him in, and I turn to see him hanging the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the outside knob.
After shutting the door, Bishop walks into the room and removes his watch. He sets it on the dresser, his back to me.
“You going to take a nap with me or do something else?” he asks as he pulls his wallet out of his jeans pocket and starts to toe off his shoes. My eyes stay pinned on his ass because it’s an amazing ass. Everything about his body is amazing, from his chiseled body born of so much hard work, to his hulking size, which was even larger when he was fully dressed and out on the ice for the practice skate a bit ago. I was able to watch them practice, knowing the schedule and having time on my hands.
When Bishop stepped out onto the ice, his hair moving in the breeze created by his momentum as he skated around to get warmed up, I just sat and watched him from a purely appreciative female perspective. I thought Bishop was about the hottest thing I’d ever seen until that moment, but after seeing him on the ice—with pads adding more bulk and the blades of his skates adding more height to his six-five frame—I just wanted him to have complete control over me. It was crazy. Totally absurd to be having those thoughts, but I wanted to roll over and bare my throat to him and tell him to do his worst to me.
“I want to do something else,” I blurt out as I realize that the buzzing in my veins and the pleasure cramping between my legs is driving me to be bold.
Bishop spins around from the dresser and I see a brief flash of joyful surprise before his eyes darken to a deep emerald color. He comes toward me—prowling actually—until we’re standing toe to toe. He looks down at me but doesn’t make a move.
I’d hoped my bold proclamation would have him taking charge by now, but he just stares at me, waiting for me to explain, I guess.
I try to swallow past the dryness in my throat, all of a sudden feeling exposed and vulnerable. I have never really been a good aggressor when it comes to sex, not having quite the confidence in my sexuality.
“What do you want to do, Brooke?” Bishop asks me in a strained voice. “Because you can do anything you want to me. You can ask me to do anything to you, and I will.”
A full-body shiver overtakes me and my eyes squeeze shut in hopes of getting control of myself. I give a hard shake of my head and force myself to look him dead in the eye. “No. Not like that.”
“What do you mean?” he asks, his voice rough but also so very gentle.
“I want you to tell me what to do,” I say in a small voice that I hope doesn’t come off as pathetic. “I want you to do to me what you want.”
A rumbling growl slips out of him and he bends his head to get a little closer to me. “Brooke,” is all he says, and it sounds like he’s warning me. That perhaps I’m provoking him in a way that I shouldn’t be, and he wants me to back off.
I start to take a step backward, but his hand is on the back of my neck, holding me in place. “Explain, Brooke,” he orders me. His voice is still tender, as if he doesn’t want to scare me, but it’s an order all the same.
Okay…might as well just go for it. I suck in a sharp breath through my nose and let it out the same way to give me just a brief moment to gather my wits. Reaching out, I put my hands on his waist and tip my head back so I can see him clearly. “I like it when you’re in control. That first night…I really liked…when you were behind me and…”
My voice trails off, unable to even bring myself to say the words as we stare at each other with our faces only inches apart and his expression growing so fierce and intense.
His hand squeezes my neck. “You mean you liked it when I finger fucked your ass?”
The flood of wetness that soaks my panties is almost embarrassing, but I manage to nod. Might as well tell the full truth. “You didn’t even ask my permission. Didn’t know if I would like it. You just took it for yourself and, well…that confidence you had knowing I’d like what you did…that’s what really turns me on.”
“Christ,” Bishop mutters before his mouth crashes down hard on mine. He kisses me so deeply that he bends me backward with an arm slipping around my waist to keep me from crashing to the floor. His other hand moves from my neck to the back of my head, and he grips my hair so hard it stings. My answering moan tells him how much I like it.
Ripping his mouth away from mine, he stares at me a moment, eyes blazing with wickedness. He lowers his head and rubs his nose along mine. A tender gesture, yet his voice sounds ravaged and raw when he says, “Your ass is all mine, Brooke. And I’m going to enjoy the process working you up to taking my cock. You got that?”
I manage to nod, feeling my panties getting more wet. The thought of him doing that to me—controlling me in a way I’ve never let happen before—both terrifies and exhilarates me.
“But right now,” he continues, his fingers gripping my hair even tighter. “I’m going to take something else from you.”
I swear I can feel my pulse hammering away in my clit, and the need for me to touch myself is almost unbearable. I let out a shaky sigh. “What’s that?”
“Going to take that beautiful fucking mouth,” he says. “I’m going to take it and fuck it. I’ve been dying to watch those lips spread wide and hug my cock. Want to see how tight your throat is. Watch it move as you swallow me.”
“Oh God…Bishop,” I groan, my mouth actually watering in anticipation.
“Get on your knees for me, Brooke,” he commands in a raspy voice that ripples with something dark and almost dangerous. I find I like it a lot and I wonder what kind of girl that makes me.
I’m dropping to the ground almost as if I’m in slow motion. I watch hungrily as Bishop works his belt and jeans open. It’s sexy as fuck the way he pushes them down just a few inches, reaching his hand inside to pull out his dick, which is hard and already weeping precum from the tip. He brushes his thumb across the tip then holds himself out to me. I lick my lips and open my mouth, and he gives it to me so very slowly.
“Yesssss,” he hisses through his teeth as I suck him in. He tastes salty and his cock fills me up so much my eyes start to water. When the tip touches the back of my throat, I swallow past the gag reflex and slide my hands to his ass to hold him inside me.
Bishop starts to pull out and I hollow my cheeks to suck. Bishop groans, and when only the tip is in my mouth, I scrape my teeth over it until he pops out. Tilting my head back slightly, I look up at him through my lashes. He’s staring down at me with almost a harsh expression on his face, yet his eyes are blazing with wonder and lust.
“Do that again, baby,” he murmurs to me, his hand free hand coming up to cup my face.
I reach out and take his cock in my hands. When I bring him back into my mouth, he takes my head with both hands now and holds me tight so I can’t move. Only from the movement of his hips do I get his cock now, and he feeds it to me slowly and deliberately.
I can’t move…can only control the suction I give him and the sounds I make.