Page 80 of Bishop's Queen

For sure, he wanted Titan. The job would understand if eventually this girl becamehisgirl. But that wasn’t the basis of their real problem, the one never dealt with. Enlisting in the army hadn’t done shit but bury feelings, and—

“I can’t function without coffee,” she repeated—as though maybe he’d missed her mention of caffeine—while also doing her best to wrap the sheet around her. “We should go do something about that.”

He rolled to her side of the bed, both their naked legs dangling, her bicep now touching his. “You’re all morning-after awkward.”

She elbowed him. “I am not!”

His side eye earned him another elbow, but he caught it that time and held her in place. “Chill out with the sheet.”

“I am chill.”

“You’re questionable at the moment.”

She rolled her eyes, and he stood up. Her eyes dropped to his junk then shot up, looking over his shoulder.

“El, you’ve seen it before. Think you can again.”

Her cheeks flared red. “Oh-kay.”

“You actually didwaymore than see it.” He bobbed his eyebrows, laughing quietly. “Last night and from back in the day. You’ve seen my goods, maybe more than any other person, ever. Cumulatively speaking.”

Cheeks and neck blotchy with embarrassment, she glued her eyeballs to the ceiling. “Got it.”

“I’m staring at you, babe. You can—” She tugged the rumpled comforter as though she wanted to bury herself in it, and he caught it. “Don’t hide on me.”

“Oh, come on. This is silly.”

“You want to see silly, Ella? Because I think in saving all the turtles and taking down Wall Street with a stalker breathing down your neck and a publicist who needs to chill the fuck out, you’ve forgotten what the hellsillylooks like.”

“Yeah, yeah. Silly.” Rolling her eyes and sticking her tongue out, she made a decent attempt at a face to appease him.

“Amateur silly.”

Her mouth gaped. “No way.”

“You, babe.” He let go of the covers and stood up. “Are too high strung.”

“Says Mister Badass Army Ranger,Sir.”

“Trust me.” He shook his hips. “Soldiers know how to get down.”

Her wide eyes matched her still-gaping mouth. “What are you doing?”

He had no fucking clue, but damn it to hell, the woman needed some fun in her life that wasn’t programmed, publicity driven, planned, or because of ratings. Bishop arched his eyebrow, rolled his hips, and watched her eyes drop, fight back up, and drop again.

“Would you stop!” she snapped, her hands covering her mouth.

He laughed, flexing his muscles for her and watching her nipples harden. What was this? Kind of a mix between Magic Mike and the Arnold bodybuilding competition? Hip shake, flex, cock thrust. What a pattern…

Her fingers splayed. “You are anawfuldancer.”

“You’re hiding a smile.” He thrust his hips, making his hardening cock reach for her.

“Bishop O’Kane!”

The point of thiswasn’tto turn her on, but those dark cherry nipples were beaded tight. He stroked his cock and rolled his hips. “Fuck it, Ella. When you let go…” He moved bedside and tilted her head back with a light tug of her hair. “You’re you. Not the girl you are for everyone else.”

She drew back. “What?”

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