Tacet a Mortuis (The Elite King's Club 3)

“Leaving so soon?” My finger stopped an inch away from hammering at that little circle button again.

Without turning to face him, I shrugged. “You have enough company here to keep you occupied, Bishop.” I realized how sober I was at this point, which was very unfortunate considering the drinks I consumed were for the sole purpose of once again, coming face to face with my high school nemesis-slash-first love. Bishop was my kryptonite, but I was no Lois Lane, and he was no Superman. What he was? Was an addiction I couldn’t break. No amount of time spent at a rehab clinic could help me, because I didn’t want to help myself. I was addicted to the burn that crusted over my vulnerable heart every time he broke it, because sometimes, the very few times that I have seen another side to Bishop, made all those pieces worth breaking for. Made him worth it. I was a junkie chasing my next high, and just hoping, that this wasn’t the time I overdosed on a love so toxic, and so far out of my reach, that I would damn near kill myself just to know how it feels one last time. I wasn’t afraid to die, I was afraid I’d never feel the heat from his hand wrapped around my heart, right before he’d shatter it into millions of pieces. I was, in short, a lost cause.

So, even though I heard the doors to the elevator ping open, I turned to finally face him, pinching my lips together when I saw the cut below his right eyebrow and the blood slightly seeping out from his bottom lip. He still had no shirt on, and his tank, I could see, was tucked into his back pockets. He only wore his military boots on his feet, and sweat glistened off each and every tight muscle he had. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to seeing Bishop in all his glory. He was just too magnificent for the average eye. Finally, my eyes collided with his, and I was waiting for a cocky comeback. Maybe something funny. But I got nothing. I got a blank stare that gave away nothing. I hadn’t received this impassive look since I first met Bishop.

The doors closed, and the longer our eyes remained connected, the more it felt as though all of the oxygen was being sucked out of the room. The walls were closing in, everything in my peripheral fading black, and all that I could see was him. His frighteningly vacant eyes. The kind that holds your interest and has your thighs clenching together, all while sending chills down your spine. His lips. The curve of his upper rim and how it dipped in the middle, while his bottom one seemed plumper. The sharpness of his jaw, that was as though Greek gods had sharpened it with a magical fucking sword of beauty. With that, you had Bishop, who had you second guessing all biblical and scientific history lesson you ever got as a kid, because there was no way someone this perfect was created out of sheer genetics.

I cleared my throat out of my daze when everything came back into real time. Stepping closer toward him, I reached for his cheek, and his eyes dropped to my mouth.

“I’ll clean you up before I leave.”

He didn’t answer, and I searched his features for a clue or any kind of reaction, but again, was met with the same vacant, hazy look. So I hooked my index finger around his, testing the waters to see if he was going to allow it since he hadn’t said anything before then. I felt him still, and then his eyebrows pulled together, and just when I thought he was about to tell me to fuck off, his finger tightened around mine and he pulled me into his chest. I ignored the spraying of blood that was strewn over his flesh as his other hand came to my face. His fingers grasped my chin as he tilted my head up toward him.

“I. Don’t. Share. Madison. Ever.”

I swallowed past the massive lump in my throat. So it was still about that. “I—”

He shook his head, his finger squeezing my chin. His eyes pierced into mine, as his lips lightly brushed over my mouth. “Ever.”

I gulped and then nodded. “Okay.”

Then his lips crashed down onto mine and all senses inside of me exploded everywhere, unlocking the latch that kept my legs up. His arm hooked around my back as his tongue dipped into my mouth, sliding against my own before he pulled away slightly, taking my breath away but leaving the soft tang of metallic slipping down my throat.

“I’ll get these fucking people out of my house.” He pressed his lips to mine, so softly, so gently, giving one peck of a kiss. That, against all of the other kisses I had been owned by from him, this was the one that seized my heart. I was putty in his hands. He took me out the kitchen, catching Jase’s eye. “Tell everyone to fuck off.”