Hoops Shorts: A HOOPS Novella Collection

Mason reached for my waist, grabbing my attention back from Tank. Oh wow, was he ready. Mason helped me spread my legs as he stepped between them. Then he slid his hand up underneath my thigh, until he was lifting my calf and ankle up over his shoulder. Almost at the same moment, the head of his hard cock pushed up against my swollen pussy lips. I hissed out at the spark of pleasure the contact brought.

Then he started pushing himself into me. I was drenched, and his passage was smooth.

That wasn’t to say he wasn’t a tight fit. He wasn’t as thick as Tank—no one could possibly be as thick as Tank. But Mason had a way of angling his hips so that—

“Oh oh ooooooh fuck—” Mason suddenly said, squeezing my hips. I looked up just in time to see his eyes pop wide in surprise. He shoved in deep as his body spasmed. Once. Then twice.

Then he blinked and looked down at me in horror. “Shit, I just came in like eight seconds again.”

I laughed even as my rising pleasure died back down.

Mason’s face was red as he pulled out of me, hand down at his cock to catch the condom. “I fucking swear this hasn’t happened before. I mean, obviously it happened last time. I’m talking about before you. Fuck, that sounds like bullshit. That’s what they always say.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I just don’t know what the fuck’s going on. Maybe my dick knows how special you are to me and it’s freaking the fuck out.”

I nodded slowly. “Um… thanks?”

Tank chuckled low and bent forward to nuzzle his cheek with mine. I curled over on the table towards his body and started laughing too. All the emotions that cascaded through my body over the last forty-eight hours suddenly seemed to hit at once, and I couldn’t seem to stop laughing.

“You know y’all laughing like that could do serious damage to a man’s confidence,” Mason said after he tilted one hip on the counter, watching the two of us with one amused but disapproving eyebrow raised.

“It’s not you—” I started, but then began giggling again so hard I couldn’t speak.

“Well, what do we have here?”

I looked up, surprised to see Bishop in the door. He grinned but I gasped when I saw his bloody knuckles.

“Looks like I got here just in time for the party.” He reached for his belt buckle.

I hopped off the table, yanking my underwear and leggings back up. Yes, my pussy was still pulsing from my unsatisfied release, but so many emotions were tripping over themselves. I stalked up to Bishop. Maybe not the best idea while he had that crazy glint in his eyes. He was obviously still amped up from fighting. We were both running on high adrenaline.

“Your hands,” I said with a furious shake of my head.

Mason was on top of us the next moment. “Jesus, how are you gonna play guitar with your hands all busted up?” Mason was pissed, and he wasn’t wrong. I’d never understand this self-destructive streak in Bishop.

“What happened?” I asked, taking Bishop’s bloody hands gently in mine, trying to assess the damage. “Did everybody leave conscious and with all their limbs intact? Is Jamie gonna want our heads on pikes in the morning?” Jamie was our long-suffering publicist.

Bishop just smiled at me, then reached up and rubbed his thumb down my cheek. I could smell the copper penny smell of the blood on his hands that hadn’t quite dried yet. In fact, he was probably leaving a streak of it down my face. From the fire burning in his eyes and his hardness against my front, it was clearly turning him on.

I yanked back. “What’s wrong with you?”

He froze for a second, and in that moment, I regretted my harshness. At least until he flicked his tongue out at me, wiggling the stud he had pierced in it. “Why? Disturbed at how turned on you are right now by all of this.” He gestured down at himself.

I shoved him hard in the chest and tried to move past him but he caught my arms.

And I might be disgusted at the pleasure that pulsed hard again at my center. Like it had never turned off at all. I lurched forwards unsteadily on my feet.

Bishop caught me, naturally, his grin growing even wider.

His palm landed on my hair just above my forehead. I loved the pressure of it and wanted to drop to my knees in submission to him at the commanding touch. He was an asshole, and a jerk, and—

And when he touched me this way, all I wanted was—

I shook my head to try to clear the lust haze. “What happened at the fight?” I asked again.

“I don’t know,” he grinned, teeth sharp. “I’m missing it because I had to chase you all.”