The Bishop Brothers

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Okay guys so I lied haha. I am going to focus on finishing this book before I start the other one. The other one is just a teaser for now. I feel it would be better to focus on one project at a time and this novel is, at the moment, my priority to finish since from the looks of it there’s a LONG ways to go and I’ve been writing it for close to two years. I hope this is alright! Happy reading!

This chapter contains sexual content.

Spencer

She stares at me like a deer in the headlights as I encroach on her. Instinctively she backs up but is met by all the jackets she has just rummaged through and she stumbles, instead resting against the threshold. Her jaw is clenched but I can see the fear in her crystal eyes. She doesn’t know what I am going to do and I enjoy that about this situation. I can take advantage of it. It’s not often I get to be alone with her, after all.

“I take that as a no,” I smirk, coming to a stop in front of her. She has her arms hidden behind her. I place my hand above her head and lean over her. “Whatcha’ searching for, Sunshine? Anything I can help with?”

“I think you know,” she whispers. I glance down and see her knees shaking. I furrow my brows. I do not have any contentment from seeing that.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I feel the need to remind her. Her eyes dart rapidly back and forth. She’s laid low for weeks just to have me witness her crime. “Even if you do find where the keys are, you won’t be able to obtain them for yourself.”

“No worries. I have a feeling they’re not in any of the boxes on the shelf,” she is correct in her assumption. “Are you going to tell Terrence about this incident like you did the first time?”

“No,” I shake my head. “Your secret is safe with me.”

She breathes a sigh of relief.

“Not so fast,” I say. I brush the top of her head with my fingers. She inhales and gulps, scrutinizing me. “On one condition.”

“Are you—” she narrows her eyes. “Are you blackmailing me?”

“I would prefer the term propositioning,” I rest my hand atop her head and ease it down the side of her face before tracing my thumb over her bottom lip. “Come downstairs with me. I have a joint rolled and ready. We don’t have to do anything. We can just talk.”

“Talk about what?”

“Anything,” I rest my other hand on her waist, slowly kneading it. Blythe’s knees have stopped shaking. I can’t deny I’m relieved. ”Or we can pick up where we left off last time.”

“I—I don’t—I don’t know,” she stammers. She removes herself from the threshold and walks around me, making her way over to the kitchen sink where she washes her hands and dries them. I shut the closet door for her. “Terrence could find out and it just...it just wouldn’t end well.”

“How is he going to know?” I ask, pacing leisurely in the living room.

“You know how when you’re tempted to do something illicit and you keep brushing it off until eventually you give into the temptation but it has horrible consequences?” I nod. “Well, not entirely the same circumstances here but you catch my drift.”

“You tempt me,” I say. Her head jerks back at my statement and her eyes drop to the floor. “I don’t mind playing cat and mouse with you. I’ve given into my temptation with you but it’s you that keeps resisting. I don’t mind attempting to steal you behind Terrence’s back. If he finds out, the consequences don’t scare me.”

“They should scare you. He could hurt you...he could—” she closes her eyes, running a hand through her curls before looking back up at me. “He could really hurt you and I don’t want that on my conscience.”

“You’re being paranoid,” I stop my pacing and begin approaching Blythe. It’s hard being in the same vicinity as her without being in close proximity. “Sunshine—”

“And stop calling me that,” she snaps. “I know you do it to mock me and I hate it. The message is loud and clear. This is all a joke to you and you get off on demeaning me whenever you say it. But I will not stand for it. Especially not from you.”

She’s about to storm back into the spare room but I stop her, grabbing her bicep and twisting her to face me. She recoils but I grab her other bicep. She stares straight past me at the kitchen window above the sink.

“Listen, I’m sorry, okay? It wasn’t to mock you,” I reassure her. “It’s just that I know it pisses Terrence off and then it became a habit. The nickname suits you. If anyone can embody the sun, it’s you.”

“Good, then you can stay a fair distance away from me—”

I kiss her. She emits a sound of surprise but doesn’t resist. She deadlocks herself but then I feel her fingertips grazing my elbows. She tilts her head to the side, relaxing, and then embracing the way my lips rest over hers. I deepen the kiss, placing my hands on her waist and pulling her into me. She stands on her toes to draw herself nearer.

“I don’t think you want me to stay away from you,” I whisper in her ear, fisting her hair. I prompt her to look at me by tugging gently. Her eyes are closed. “I sure as hell don’t want to stay away from you.”

And then I’m kissing her again. She melts, throwing her arms around my neck. She smells and tastes so heavenly. And she’s beautiful. So fucking beautiful. I had known the first time I saw her that she was going to be a stunner when she grew up but nothing could have prepared me for this. She’s a vision. She doesn’t belong to Terrence. I can’t let him have her. I want her all to myself.

We retreat until we reach the island. I lift her up, setting her on top of it, and stand in between her legs. I explore what hides beneath her shirt, reading her in braille, and she moans as I kiss her. The sound gets my blood rushing. She cups the back of my head in that tender yet detached way she did before. I slide my fingers under her bra strap and I desperately want to undo it but I stop myself.

I kiss my way down her jaw and she drops her head back, exposing her neck. She grips my shirt, lips brushing my ear as she breathes heavily. She is so turned on. She doesn’t want to be attracted to me but she is which only heightens the experience. I wonder how far we’re going to get tonight. I’m not going downstairs without her.

I get as far as the swell of her breast when I can’t take it anymore. I lift her off the island and set her on the ground, taking her hand in mine and pulling her to the hallway where my door is wide open waiting for us. She holds my hand tightly, squeezing it, jogging to keep up with me.

I close her door and then my door behind us and follow the light that guides us into my room. I walk down the stairs at a pace comfortable for Blythe. Once we hit the floor she’s already removing my shirt which I aid her with and I toss it somewhere on my couch. We’re kissing, we bump into a wall, we laugh, and then she’s in my bedroom again. She falls onto my bed, golden curls splaying everywhere, and she’s smiling her perfect smile.

I crawl on top of her and we move in unison to the pillows. She pins me to her with her legs, one hand playing my spine like a violin and the other on the back of my head. It gives me the chills and they ripple through me as I kiss her. I desire her. I want her. I crave her. I want to make her feel good. I won’t go all the way with her tonight. I’ll save it for next time. But I’m still going to give her a good time.

As I kiss Blythe I undo her pants, dragging them down her legs. Once removed I slide my hand into her underwear, pressing a finger into her pearl. She gasps, shuddering, and I start massaging it. She spreads her legs wider, moaning as we kiss until she’s too overwhelmed by what I’m doing to her pussy. She’s dripping, sensitive, anticipating my next course of action.

I remove her underwear and lower myself so my face is in between her legs. I lace my arms under her thighs and grab her soft hips, pulling her ever so slightly. I waste no time in going down on her, feeling her heat, tasting her, consuming her. She chokes a breath out and then her breathing is labored. I feel her fidgeting, restless, fisting the bedsheets. She’s moaning so much. I dig my fingers into her skin.

I move my tongue in circles, squares, triangles, whatever evokes the greatest response from her. She shifts between tensing up and relaxing. I watch her with her head thrown back, chest heaving, pure ecstasy infiltrating her veins. She covers her face with her hands, moving it from side to side, the electricity she feels in her legs dancing throughout her entire body.

I put a finger inside of her, moving in and out slowly, gradually picking up speed until I add a second finger. She hisses, not used to the sensation, but then lets me become her purveyor of delectation. The combination of my fingers and tongue sends her soaring. Her arms move underneath the pillow and she thrusts into me, pleading for more. She’s starting to spasm, stomach rolling like waves against the beach.

“Keep going,” she sighs. So I do.

I press harder into her with my tongue but do not quicken or hit the brakes. She raises her hips off the bed and I accommodate her. She grabs my hair, tugging it, vibrating all over the place. Making her feel this good brings me as much satisfaction as it brings her. I grab her breast with my free hand from under her bra, squeezing it, giving it some attention. She hums with rapture, so close to the edge that she’s hanging off of it.

She arches her back like a bridge, stilling, then lets out a swift cry where she’s absolutely and irrefutably uninhibited. She reaches her peak and I grab her wrists, pinning them to her sides as she orgasms. Her face twists with euphoria and her mouth is wide open. She’s in a world only she’s allowed to enter but I’m permitted to observe.

She starts to come down from her high, visage returning to normal before she opens her eyes. They seem more hooded, glossed over, less guarded. I breathe heavily with her but I don’t know why. It had been thrilling to go down on her. It had been even more elating to provoke the reaction I did.

With my hands still on her wrists I submerge myself in her essence, taking it for myself, cleaning her up. I feel her fingers moving, the tendons in her forearms clenching. Once I’m done tasting her I kiss her pussy, then the dips in her thighs, and right below her navel before I sit up, letting her go. I smooth hair from her forehead, standing up and making my way to the bathroom. I draw a bath, adding lots of soap.

When I return to my bedroom Blythe is no longer there and her clothes are missing. I collect the joint I told her about earlier and a lighter, placing it on the sink counter. Once I’ve set the scene I find her sitting on the top step with her ear glued to the door. I place my hand on the railing, crossing my ankles.

“Gone so soon?” I ask, to which she turns to face me before resuming her position.

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” she says just loud enough for me to hear it over the bath. “But Terrence is walking around. If I leave he’ll spot me.”

“We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” I smirk even though she doesn’t see me. “What’s the rush, anyway? I’m getting a bath ready for us. That is, if you join me.”

This gives me her full attention. She licks her lips and clasps her hands together. She doesn’t know how to read the situation. I can see the regret on her face from a mile away. The night is still young and Terrence won’t be in bed for a while. She’s trapped down here until he clocks out. Of course, however, I can’t force her to join me. Wordlessly I walk away into the bathroom, figuring she’ll make the right decision.

I strip and get into the water, shutting it off once it’s filled to where I like it. I stretch out, elongating an arm along the side of the bathtub. I close my eyes. It’s silent for a few minutes and I start thinking Blythe might just wait there until Terrence is in bed. I know how obstinate she can be. She won’t budge unless she wants to.

Until I hear cautious footfalls hitting each step on the way down. I open my eyes and face the door that’s ajar. Blythe approaches the bathroom and peeks around the threshold but doesn’t come in just yet. She looks shy, childlike, curious, as if she’s waiting for my approval. It’s endearing and disarming. There is still an innocence to her that I don’t think will ever die.

“Don’t be a stranger,” I beckon her in.

She steps past the threshold and closes the door behind her even though she doesn’t have to. It’s a natural move to her. I don’t comment. She rests her back against the door, rubbing her lips together. She weighs her options despite already making it this far. She knows how wrong this is. It splinters her mind. She shouldn’t be here yet here she is.

I watch the moment she frees herself from her restraints. She seems like a whole new person as she steps away from the door. She’s stoic, neutral, no longer juvenile in any sense of the word. I barely recognize her even though she looks the same. It’s her eyes. It’s all in the eyes. It’s all part of the process. She owes me one and she knows it. This is not personal for her like it is for me.

I sit up as she begins undressing, excited.

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