Page 69 of Bishop

Did I like it? I ground my throbbing cock between her legs and let her feel exactly how much. “What do you think?”

“I think the outfit was a hit,” she returned with a becoming blush, looping her arms around my neck and rubbing her sex against mine in a teasing back-and-forth motion. Since those tiny Lycra shorts of hers were barely more than panties, I could feel every pornographic inch of her luscious folds sliding across my cock.

I growled low into her neck before giving it a playful nip. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to stop myself if I didn’t get a hold of my raging libido now, I reluctantly let her slide back down to the floor.

“You trying to kill me, woman?” I joked, spinning her around in a complete circle so I could see all of her delectable body up close and personal.

Her eyes sparkled with joy that I liked her outfit so much. Christ! What was not to like? Her every curve and womanly asset was on display, and all for me. I couldn’t wait until I was fighting to watch my woman standing in the crowd, cheering me on. If I didn’t have a boner before, I sure as fuck had one now.

Running my greedy hands up and down her hourglass silhouette, I shook my head. “And to think I have to wait until after the fight to get inside of you.” My fingers flexed and tightened around the nip of her waist. “How much torture can one man be asked to endure?”

Spinning her about, I tossed my arm around her shoulders. Glancing at the clock in the corner of the room, I saw it was almost time to go. All the Devils would be riding over on their bikes to the arena, while the girls would be driving there in one of the Club SUVs chauffeured by a few of the Prospects.

“It’s about that time,” Reaper shouted, his woman Angel tucked protectively in the crook of his arm. “Let’s head on out and show these motherfuckers what it feels like to go toe-to-toe with the Devil’s Riders!”

Everyone shouted and my eyes traveled around the room with pride. They paused on Cici when I felt, then saw, the look of absolute loathing radiating off of her. And her ire wasn’t for me. It was directed fully on Evie.

Pulling my woman closer, I made a mental note to deal with this issue as soon as the fight was over. The last thing I needed was that crazy bitch to make life harder for Evie. If Cici couldn’t accept that we were over, I’d pull rank on her ass and get her banned from the Club permanently. No arguments.

Kissing the top of my girl’s head, I said, “Come on, Babe. Let me get you inside the car so I can have an excuse to feel you up one last time before buckling you in.”

Evie leaned close and whispered, “Only if you let me do the same to you.”

Tossing my girl over my shoulder, I smacked her ass and made good on my promise.

* * *

Louisville, Nevada

Potter’s Arena

Evie

I was so nervous, I could barely contain myself on the ride over to the arena. Even though I wasn’t the one fighting, I felt like a knotted bundle of nerves when I imagined Matty stepping into the ring.

Catching the open look of fear on my face, Amelia snagged my hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “It’ll be okay. I promise. Bishop is an excellent fighter. And it’s only an exhibition match,” she reminded me with a bright smile.

I knew this fight was for charity and wouldn’t be a brutal death match or anything like that, but I still couldn’t shake my fear of watching someone I loved, yes loved, fight.

There was no denying the obvious at this point. I was in love with Matty, and nothing I said or did would change that.

Forcing a brave smile on my face, I followed Angel, Amelia, and the Prospects escorting us into the building where the match was being held. The large stone building looming in front of us was every bit as ominous and foreboding as the event felt in my heart.

When we entered the arena, my panic instantly doubled. Suddenly, I was questioning everything. My clothes. My hair. My makeup, and what I was even doing here with the Club at all.

My friends, feeling my discomfort, each took one of my hands and walked on either side of me for moral support. Grateful for the umpteenth time for their presence, I finally relaxed enough to remember to stand up straight, let go of the tension I was storing in my shoulders, and breathe.

I blushed when a few men in the crowd cat-called us as we walked by. Funny enough, that silly little act was what allowed me to relax the rest of the way. I reprimanded myself for being far too serious. This was not a big deal. Just an exhibition match. What was I worried about?

Boots and the three other Prospects flanking us led us over to the seating reserved for the Devil’s Riders. The police and firefighters had their own sections, and they were filled to the brim just like ours.

The energy in the hall was palpable and contagious. And it didn’t take long for me to catch the fever of excitement coursing through the crowd as people chatted animatedly, roamed freely around the venue, and placed “bets” that would all be later donated to charity after the fights were scored.

As we took our seats, drinks in hand, Angel asked, “Are you ready for this?”

To be honest, I wasn’t. But I sure as hell was about to experience this event one way or another. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I returned, taking a sip of my vodka seltzer for much-needed support while staring hard at the empty ring.

* * *

---