Page 122 of Bishop's Queen

Bishop inched back, cupping a hand under her chin. “Yeah, babe. I need you.” He slid his thumb down, toying with her lip. “Primal, possessive need.”

She nuzzled into his palm. “I know. I love that about you.”

“Hell, woman, I loveyou.” He leaned closer. “And after the hell of today, you need to know.”

Shock widened her eyes, and Ella tilted her head. Hell, if she was going to have a disheartening, disloyal revelation about Jay, she could hear one that was the polar opposite.

“Why did you say that?”

He inched closer. “Because you deserve to hear the truth occasionally. Unvarnished, no bullcrap. I’m in love with you.”

Her lips parted.

“Again,” he added. “Some things have a way of coming back.”

Ella ducked under his arm and rolled out of bed. “Give me a minute.”

“Uh…” Not that he had planned this conversation, but that didn’t go how he thought it might. She rushed out of his bedroom, and Bishop had no clue what to say. “Hey…”

A second later, she walked back in with a smile that reached her eyes and a piece of paper in her hand. “Angie asked me to write down the only thing I knew for certain.”

He took the paper she held out and unfolded what had been made into a tiny square. Each move amped his anticipation as he smoothed the paper. On the center of the page, she’d written one sentence in certain block print and underlined it in pen:

I’m in love with Bishop O’Kane.

His heart jumped as his laugh rumbled. “You’re crazy.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her into bed. A mixture of relief and adrenaline, of arousal and anticipation, spun inside his chest. “Good.” He put the note on his nightstand. “Threw me for a minute, running out of bed.”

“But seriously? That’s kind of crazy.” She crawled across the mattress, kneeling and eyeing the paper. “I mean—”

“Ella?”

“What?” Her chin tilted up, as she was still apparently amazed they’d had the same thoughts today.

He dropped his voice. “El.” He read it, but damn, he wanted the words to burn in his ears.

“Bishop.” She crawled back, walking up his body, and into his arm. Her tongue traced up his neck, and she kissed his earlobe, whispering, “I’m in love with you, Bishop O’Kane.”

It hit him everywhere.

Ella raked her nails down his chest. “I don’t want to go to sleep. I’m done processing. I’ve done everything I’m supposed to, and I’ve said the magic words. Now I want to play.”

Like there was any turning back now. “Rule book says your shirt has to go.”

“Absolutely.” She lifted her arms, and he pulled it off, tossing it over the side of the bed.

She kissed him, letting her tight nipples sway against his chest, and he couldn’t keep his hands away. Palming both breasts, he rubbed the peaked tips between his thumbs and forefingers, watching color rise in her face. Gone was her playfulness, making room for straight-up arousal. He pinched, and she sighed, heady and hot. Then he squeezed and plucked her deep-cherry-red nipples again.

“Feel good, El?”

“Mm-hmm.” She squirmed as he increased the pressure, her head dropping back. “Yes.”

When he released the tweak, she relaxed, almost buckling, and he slid his hands down her stomach, watching a trail of goose bumps erupt. “If you read carefully, it says these have to go too.”

“I was hoping so.” She lifted her hips, and he snagged the sides of her panties, dragging them down her legs, and dropping them over the side of the bed.

“God, I like this game.” Her hair drifted over one shoulder. Her breasts were swollen, and Ella’s eyes drifted closed as though she couldn’t have been more relaxed, more turned on, more in the right spot.

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