It’s where I want her to stay, far beyond the two-week restriction Nora put on her return to work and her normal life, but I know the second she gets medically cleared, she’ll be out of here as fast as she can run.
Given the training she usually does, I bet that’s pretty damn fast.
She holds up the book. “I found this in your nightstand.”
“Huh…” I return to drying my hair. “So you were snooping?”
Grinning, she shakes her head. “No, I was bored.”
My eyes dip to where her phone lies on the comforter beside her bare legs. “Bored or annoyed?”
She scowls, and I know I’ve read the situation accurately.
It isn’t the first time I’ve caught her trying to wring information from one of the Hawkes. She’s made her way through the entire family over the last several days, hoping one of them might have a weak moment and tell her what’s been happening with both the investigation into the bombing and their continued hunt for Satriano.
Given how frustrated she continues to be, it’s clear she hasn’t gotten anything out of anyone, but I have to give it to her for the continued determination and lack of quit.
I don’t think this woman even knows the meaning of the word.
“You were texting your dad again, weren’t you? Trying to get some information from him?”
She purses her lips together, her fingers tightening around the open book. Her annoyance at being kept out of the loop has only grown the longer she’s remained confined here and in the dark, but it’s for her own good, whether she likes it or not.
The fact that she continues to have intense headaches and be so sore only confirms the need for more time to recover.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel for her.
I can’t even imagine how unsettling it must be knowing someone is out there targeting the people she loves when she is helpless to do anything about it. If I were in her shoes, I would be trying everything to get back into the mix, too.
And seeing her continue to stress about it when she needs to relax in order to speed up her recovery makes me feel helpless.
I toss the towel I was using on my hair back into the bathroom so I can crawl onto the bed with her. Taking her face in my palm, I tilt it up toward me. “I know it’s killing you to be in the dark about this, but I promise, if there was anything we absolutely needed your help with that someone else couldn’t handle, we would come to you—even against doctor’s orders.” Her jaw hardens, and I run my thumb along it. “Tensing up like that isn’t going to help your headaches.”
She pulls out of my hold and grabs her phone, tossing it on the bedside table along with the book. Her tongue snakes out across her lips, wetting them as she returns to looking at me like I’m a goddamn snack again. “You’re right, it won’t. But I know something that will.”
Her hand cups my semi-hard cock through the towel, and I groan, slamming my eyes shut against the glorious sensation after so many days of sleeping beside this woman and not touching her the way I so desperately want to.
“Fucking hell, Bishop.” I shake my head as she drags her thumb across the piercings that line the top, making my cock twitch in her hold. “No…”
I start to shift back off the bed, out of temptation’s reach, but she loops her free arm around my neck and tugs me closer, until I’m practically in her lap.
She strokes my cock that’s now fully hard and raring to go, skimming her lips across my cheek. “But I heard an orgasm is good for pain relief.”
I grab her wrist, keeping her from doing any further damage to my already frayed willpower. “I’ve heard that, too. Are you in pain right now?”
Her gaze flicks over to the nightstand and the book on it. “I see where you’re going with this, Gage. It’s a Catch 22, right? If I am in pain, touching me could relieve it, but if I say I’m in pain, you won’t touch me because you don’t want to risk hurting me more.”
Smart woman…
If I weren’t trying so hard to fight how fucking turned on I am, I would show her just how impressed I am that she figured out exactly where I was going with that question so quickly.
Bishop’s safety and comfort is my number one priority, even if that means rejecting her and probably facing her wrath for it.
She leans up and presses her lips to mine, the taste of the tea she just drank on her tongue mixing with the scent of the jasmine that always hangs around her, filling every breath I take.
God, it’s so hard to resist her when she’s like this.
Still, I force myself to pull away, still gripping her wrist. “I know what you’re up to, Hellcat.”
