Page 40 of Bishop

When I thought she’d had adequate time to catch her breath, I asked, “You good, Babe?”

Her gaze was unfocused and dreamy when she looked at me. “Yeah. That was… intense,” she said in a raspy tone.

Leaning over, I gave her a slow, sensual kiss on the mouth. “Yeah. You can say that again. I’ve never come like that before.”

Evie searched my gaze to see if I was telling the truth or just telling her what she wanted to hear. “Me either,” she confessed.

“Come on,” I said, taking her by the hand. “I left you a mess. Let’s hop in the shower and I’ll help clean you up.”

Evie giggled. “You want to help clean me up?” she repeated.

“Yup. I’m especially good at getting those hard-to-reach places,” I teased, slapping her world-class ass as she got to her feet.

As much as my cock and I wanted to ravage Evie again in the shower, I was determined to be a good boy and only help scrub her back. When she winced when I was cleaning other parts of her, I knew I was going to have to be careful. I’d never been with a virgin before, but I knew the first time could be painful. I didn’t want Evie to get the impression I was only staying over to get laid. As hard as it was to back-burner my sex drive, which was always in full gear and something she personally helped catapult into overdrive, I managed to tamp it down some in the interest of keeping her in my life long-term.

I let Evie finish up in the bathroom when I went out to the kitchen to grab another glass of water. After what we’d just done, I was parched and had chugged both glasses on the bedroom nightstand.

I heard a knock at the front door as I refilled the first glass. Curious, I decided to answer it and see who would be visiting Evie’s apartment this late at night. Wearing nothing but boxers slung low around my hips, I strolled over and peeked through the keyhole.

I couldn’t believe my fucking eyes. It was John Becker, standing at my girl’s front door, holding a bouquet like a goddamned simp!

Chapter 11

Bishop

I didn’t know whether to laugh or simply start swinging. What the fuck was Peckerhead doing here? After what he’d pulled Evie’s last day at Cantiville, I knew she hadn’t invited him to her apartment. He sure as shit hadn’t texted her to come over either. I’d been with her all night, and I hadn’t seen her check her phone once. It was clear to me this was an unplanned visit and I was rip-shit about it.

How the fuck did this cocksucker even know where Evie lived? He’d better not be stalking her. After my sister had gone through hell last year with her own stalker, I wasn’t about to go through round two with this piece of shit prison guard!

The man was carrying the cheapest flowers an uncaring douchebag could wrangle up at a gas station at such a late hour. Dressed in fucking khakis, he wore a polo shirt and an apologetic smile. I bet he thought he was something special. Well, I was about to show him he wasn’t. And damn, was I going to fucking enjoy it.

Tossing open the door, I leaned casually against the jamb and said, “What the fuck are you doing here, Peckerhead?”

The look on Becker’s face was priceless. It ping-ponged from shock, anger, frustration, and disgust, in a matter of seconds.

His eyes bulged and took in my wet hair, bare chest, boxers, and large glass of water with total revulsion. “I could ask the same of you, inmate Wilmont,” he bitterly choked out.

“Ah, come on, John, I think we both know what I’m doing here,” I answered with a shit-eating grin. “I’m hanging with my girl watching some TV, among other things.”

Becker worked his jaw like he was trying to chew back the awful taste in his mouth. “Your girl, huh? Since when? You just got out of Cantiville last week.”

I shrugged. “That doesn’t matter. The moment I saw Evie, she was mine. Plain and simple. Thankfully, it didn’t take long to convince her of that fact,” I said, taking a large chug from my water glass. “But then again, I always knew she was a smart girl.”

The prison guard’s eyes were burning with rage. “I thought she was too. But I guess I overestimated her and should have realized she was that kind of girl. Better late than never.”

I stepped over the threshold. I’d be damned if I let this shithole talk bad about my woman. “And what kind of girl would that be, Peckerhead?”

“The kind that fucks scumbag, biker trash,” John returned, an ugly grin splitting his lips.

I laughed. “Is that the worst you can do, cocksucker? Let me tell you something about Evie. She’s worth ten of you, and me, combined. It doesn’t matter though. What does matter is that she can spot a lying pervert when she sees one. That's why she rejected your pathetic ass from day one.”

“Is that so?” Becker returned. Dropping his wilted flowers onto the stoop at his feet, he freed up his hands as though he were getting ready to fight.

“It is,” I replied coolly. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten what you did to her, or me, while I was on the inside, John. I’ve got a long memory and a shit-ton of patience.”

Becker’s face became mottled with rage. “Is that a threat? Are you and your little gang going to jump me in a dark parking lot when I least expect it, Pretty Boy?”

I slowly shook my head. “I don’t need my Club to beat the fuck out of you, limp dick. When we finally settle this score, it’ll be one-on-one using my bare fists. I’m not like you, John. I’m not a sniveling coward. I look a man in the eye when I’m fighting, and I handle my own business. I don’t send a troop of Nazi bitches to do it for me.”

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