Runaway Bride

A man.

I feel his large hands on my arms as he steadies my swaying body. My eyes move up his large torso. He’s built like a brick house. His biceps bulge, and an array of black ink peeks at me from beneath his shirt.

I peer up at him. He’s tall, his body looming over mine, but I’m not afraid. In fact, I felt safe, which is a strange feeling to be having for a complete stranger.

Dark blue eyes pierce my own, holding me in a trance. He is so beautiful, it hurt, actually hurt, but there is a ruggedness that makes it so he isn’t. His nose is crooked, and he has a scar above his left eye. The disheveled mop of midnight black hair makes his eyes stand out more, and I can’t miss the sharpness of his jaw. I want to reach out and touch it just to see if it’s as sharp as it looks.

The sound of feet pounding against pavement meets my ears. I twist in the unknown man’s hold. They are coming for me. They are going to drag me back to that stupid church and force me to marry him even after he cheated on me.

Tears sting my eyes, and I speak without thinking.

“Help me. Please…help me.” I fist the cotton of his t-shirt, never wanting to let go. I don’t know who he is, good or bad, but I don’t care.

Anything is better than going back.

Chapter Two

Bishop

She is beautiful…breathtaking. I want to smash my lips against her plump ones and claim her. Her eyes pierce mine, holding me in place. The warmth of her bare skin beneath my hands leaves me hungry with need.

I want to strip her bare and sink deep inside her…

I want to hear her moan my name, feel her, feel her pussy quiver around me…

Why the hell am I thinking these thoughts? I just met the woman, surely I can’t just jump into bed with her.

Then, she whispers, “Please…help me,” and I’m done for. I don’t know her story, why she’s wearing a goddamn wedding dress in the middle of the street, but I don’t care. She needs my help, wants my help and she needs me. There’s no way in fucking hell I’m not going to help her.

My car is two seconds away, and I’ll be damned if I let this tiny little woman down. I unlock my blacked-out SUV and open the passenger door. I pick her up by the hips, and the material of her dress makes my skin itch. She weighs nothing, but has curves in all the right places. I secure her inside and slam the door closed as a big, burly man in a black suit rounds the corner. There’s a fury in his eyes, and his fists are clenched like he’s ready to fight.

Just try to take her, I snarl inside my head. My possessiveness over this woman is irrational, but feels right.

“Have you seen a woman in a wedding dress?” he sneers, his eyes wild as he looks up and down the street.

I clench my jaw. “Nope, can’t say I have.”

I wonder what the hell the woman inside my car is running from, then again I don’t really fucking care. It’s not any of my business and normally I wouldn’t help anyone, but the hitch in her voice, the tears in her eyes. They wounded me like a knife sinking deep into my chest and I knew I couldn’t just leave her there to be found.

“Fuck.” The man blows out a frustrated breath and turns back around. “She fucking escaped…fucking Christ…” He continues cursing as he walks back the way he came.

Escaped?

The thought of anyone forcing someone to do something irritates me beyond disbelief. I need to figure out this woman’s story. Walking over to the driver’s side, I climb into the car. As soon as I close the door, trapping us inside together, my mouth starts to water.

She smells like sugar and fucking spice. An image of me tasting her skin, nibbling on her clit, enters my mind.

Would she taste as good as she smells?

“Did he see me? Please tell me he didn’t see me. Did you tell him I was in here?” Her words come out rushed, and despair coats each one, pulling at my protective instincts.

All I can think about is calming her, making certain she knows she’s safe—something I’ve never cared to do for another woman.

“Shhh, he doesn’t know you’re in here, and he didn’t see you.” I reach out, placing my hand against hers. Her skin is warm, her scent tantalizing, and I have this strange urge to pull her onto my lap and wrap my arms around her.

At my words, she calms, but her body still vibrates with fear. What the fuck is going on?

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to repay you.” She sniffles, peering up at me.