“And I’m supposed to trust you?” He set the water beside my thigh, the cool moisture melting against my warm skin. I grabbed it, suddenly parched.
“I guess you have every reason not to,” I explained, my head starting to thud from the lack of sleep. “But I’m new to all this, Bishop. I’ve just found out all this new shit about my life, I made a fucking mistake, okay?”
His eyes searched mine. “Yeah, you keep saying that.”
“What the fuck am I supposed to do!” I didn’t even feel the tears leaking out of my eyes. “I find out that my mom wasn’t really my mom and oh yeah, the guy I loved fucked her, and then he had been hiding his first love—whatever the fuck that slut is to you—all these years and didn’t actually kill her like he was supposed to!” I sagged, my eyes feeling heavy. I jumped off the kitchen counter. “I’m going to bed.” I went to brush past, but his hand caught mine and he tugged me into him.
His fingers hooked around my chin and he tilted my head up to look at him, his eyes searching mine. “You love me?”
My eyes started darting around the room. I said that? Shit. I did.
Defeated, I shrugged. “Yes, Bishop, thought that much was obvious. I’m tired.”
He pulled me under his arm and I followed his lead up the stairs to his bedroom. Everything was throbbing so bad that as soon as I belly flopped onto his puffy blankets, my eyes closed and sleep took hold.
A buzzing sound alerted me from somewhere in the distance, but my eyes refused to open. There was no way I was waking up yet. It was still dark, or maybe my eyes were still closed. Deep vibrating motion started shaking over my ass and I exhaled, groaning while reaching for the annoying device.
“You better be dead.”
“Madison,” Daemon? I shot up instantly. “Are you okay?”
Silence.
“Daemon!” I called into the phone.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. I need a—I need to go. Are you with Bishop?”
I switched the phone to my other ear and shoved Bishop awake. I’d been around my twin brother enough to decipher what he’s usually trying to say.
Bishop’s eyes opened and he gazed at me. Not fair. At all. He looked far too beautiful to be hungover. His light brown hair hit the early morning sun front on, as if it was burning from the heat and turning to the soft ash that settled through his strands. His soft lips were plump and smooth, and his skin glistened with not one single flaw. He licked his lips and his dimples sunk into each cheek.
“Mmm, what?” His arm wrapped around my stomach as his eyes slowly drifted closed again.
“It’s Daemon, he needs a ride somewhere and asked if I was with you.”
Bishops eyes opened again and he snatched the phone from me, instantly speaking in Latin. My lady parts weren’t going to survive him. It would be even hotter if I knew what they were all talking about though.
He hung up the phone and slid out of bed, going straight into the bathroom. Tossing the covers off my body, I started stripping and slipped into the shower. Steam eloped me everywhere and I sighed, closing my eyes as the hot water slipped all over my flesh, washing last night’s shenanigans off me. I stilled when the palm of his hand opened on my belly and he pressed down, his lips coming to the back of my neck.
I shivered, a cool sweat breaking out over my skin, but cranked my neck, giving him more access. His hand traveled down lower until he was cupping my sex, his thumb pressing against my clit.
I bit down on my lip to try to contain my groan and the fireworks that were erupting inside my belly. Only Bishop could do this, only he had the power to completely disarm me while putting me on high alert all at the same time. He licked me across the back of my neck as his fingers continued to play with my clit. One finger slipped inside and circled, hitting something deep that had my toes curling and my back arching. His other hand traveled up my stomach, over my breast as he pinched roughly, biting the back of my neck at the same time. Both sensations unleashed waves of toxic euphoria flushing through my veins. I could feel I was on the edge of combustion, so I went to turn to face him, but his hand flew straight to my throat and his lips came to the back of my ear.
“No, Kitty. You won’t move unless instructed to and you won’t fucking speak unless I ask you to.” Bishop had always been dominant in bed, but something about his rough tone had me thinking this had to do with a lot of other reasons; not just his overbearing alpha male, domineering attitude. He clenched my throat. “Do we understand each other?”
I nodded, but my eyes were still closed and I continued grinding myself into his fingers. “Yes.” Then he let go, pushing me out of the way. All the tightened pleasure I was feeling, snatched from me instantly. It was as though his touch was a distant memory, and like a fool, I instantly missed it.
“Good. Get changed, we’re taking Daemon to the airport.”
“Err...” I went to answer, but he was already getting out of the shower. I grabbed the soap and scrubbed up super fast, and angrily, considering he had worked me up that much only to leave me hanging. I had a feeling this had a lot to do with my punishment. And If I knew Bishop, which I did, this had only just begun and it was only going to get worse, but the joke will also be on him because he’s not getting any sex either.
Unless he does…
I hit the faucet off and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around myself. Walking out to the bedroom, I headed straight into his closet and rummaged through what clothes I still had here—or Tatum’s clothes. Pulling out some cut-offs and a loose off-white shirt, I threw it on and slipped on my Vans before letting my hair back down my back.
I hit the bottom of the stairs and stilled when I saw Khales was on the sofa eating granola.
“Seriously,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. Stomping into the kitchen, having about enough of her presence, I stopped when I saw Bishop. “Why is she still here?”
He barged past me, walking to the front door. I followed, flipping the slut off on my way. Bishop let me through the door. “She stayed in the house.”
Wait, what?
“Why?”
Bishop’s jaw ticked as we rounded his Maserati. “Because she doesn’t have anywhere else to go, and because of my fucking dad.” Pulling open the passenger door, I slid in and clipped my belt on. Great, so Hector was keeping her around for some reason.
“I need food.”
He fired the car up and pulled out. “After we drop Daemon off at the airport.”
“Airport?” I asked, an eyebrow perched. “Why is my brother going to an airport?”
“Why do you still ask so many questions?” He retorted.
“Why do you still keep secrets?” I snapped back.
He grinned, seemingly pleased with my wit, then he sobered. “There’s something I’m going to tell you, but it cannot be known that you know about this place yet.” He dropped it into third, looking at me and then looking back to the road. “Am I clear?”
“I get it,” I deadpanned. I was used to secrets now, and regardless of the poor decisions I had made where Bishop and I were concerned, I had never spilled one of the many golden secrets I knew from this world.
“Daemon is from an island called Perdita, it’s Latin for—”
“—lost,” I interrupted, remembering that word from one of the many translation games I played with my phone.
His head dipped, as he turned down my street. For once, I was annoyed about how close we lived to one another. Obviously, Bishop was in the sharing mood, and that was something so rare, so unheard of, that I wanted to take it for complete granted.
He stopped at the entry to our high wired gates, waiting for them to open.
“This island is on the outskirts of the Bermuda Triangle, but remains completely off the radar, because of my dad.”