Page 55 of Renegade Ruin

Bishop’s chuckle rumbles against my chest, his fingers digging into the swell of my hips. He nips the lobe of my ear and rasps. “Well, there goes my plan to bend you over the railing of the owner's suite with a view of the whole stadium.”

This man and his filthy mouth never cease to amaze me.

My thighs clench and I almost take back my first rule immediately. Bishop definitely has a thing about bending me over with a view. Times Square. The beach house balcony. Andnow the stadium. And I absolutely have an exhibition streak because I’ve come from the thrill every single time.

Something to consider for the future. Which brings me to my third point.

I shift between his legs, doing my best to ignore the way his jock strap strains against the tight fabric of his uniform pants. “Three. This has an expiration date. Opening day.”

“Got it,” he murmurs as his hands drift up the side of my torso and across the swell of my breasts to finger the buttons of my powder blue blouse. “What happens at spring training stays at spring training.”

His hands work at the buttons from the top down, exposing the matching lacey blue bra underneath. “Fuck,” he curses. “If it’s not those damn skirts, these lace-covered tits are going to be the death of me.”

I smile with the knowledge I thought of him when I picked my outfit today. I wanted him to squirm in his seat with the need to rip the skirt from my hips. I dreamed of a moment just like this. I never thought I’d be giving life to said dream. Or maybe I did. Manifest destiny and all that.

Running my hands down Bishop's torso, I untuck the gray and black practice jersey from his pants. “And the last one.” The rule I know he’s going to hate me for. “If we’re going to do this, I’d like for you to agree to see the team therapist regularly.”

Bishop’s hands still against my stomach. “Absolutely no?—”

Despite the fact my heart has stopped and I don’t want to think past the sense of deep aching want, I shake my head. “It’s nonnegotiable. No therapy, no distraction.”

He hesitates, and I watch his heated expression as he clenches his jaw. He wants me—wants this—but is it enough to agree to help himself?

For a split second, I think it’s not before he grits out. “Fine.”

“Do you have any conditions of your own?”

“Only one.” Bishop reaches up and tugs his jersey over his head. He drops it to the floor, standing in only his pants and cleats, proving he plans to do more than shake on this promise. “No feelings.”

I wince, but before I can school my features, Bishop continues.

“As cliché as it sounds, it’s not you, it’s me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me,” I say, looking away. Not because I believe he would hurt me, but because his rule is one I might struggle with.

“Not intentionally, which is why I want to make it clear this offer is for distraction only. I’ll ensure we forget the bullshit of our day by making you come in every way imaginable. I’ll even play by your rules and let you know why I need to be distracted, but I can’t give you more than that.”

Holding his gaze, I shrug off my blouse. Then I turn and walk the three short steps to the door and flip the lock.

I don’t have more than a moment to react past the reverberating click before Bishop is there. He spins me and, with a hand on my chest bone, presses me into the cool metal of the door.

“Please tell me that’s you saying yes.”

“Yes,” I breathe.

My confirmation is enough to light the fuse between us and in seconds we’re a tangle of limbs and lips.His hand slips down to palm my breast while the other tangles in my hair and pulls my needy mouth to his. His touches are desperate but gentle. Fingertips brush my nipple, causing a ripple of pleasure at the same time as the hand in my hair tugs until I feel that delicious sting of pain.

“Please, Bishop,” I moan against his lips. He sucks my lower lip as he pinches my nipple.

“Fuck, I love when it’s my name you’re moaning.” He groans, dropping his face lower to suck on my pulse point. It simultaneously sends shivers down my spine and a zap of lighting to my clit. “Tell me what you need, Kitten.”

I’m teetering on the edge and hearing him call me the pet name I’ve always loved sends me into a frenzy. “I want you inside me.”

Bishop pulls back and smirks. “Have I told you how sexy it is that you now voice what you want?”

I laugh. “Noted.” But my chest swells with pride. He has no idea he gave me the confidence to speak up. He was the one who inspired me to give into the things I need and fight for the things I want.

“Unbuckle my pants,” he says as he flips my skirt up to reveal my matching lace thong. His hands roam the round of my ass as I work his belt and pants open and push them, along with his briefs and jockstrap, downto his knees.

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