Midnight Renegade: The Draft Prequel Novella by Hayden Locke

Author:Hayden Locke [Locke, Hayden]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-08T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

WILLOW

That twinkle in his eye is dangerous in the best possible way, and here I am without a single ounce of self-preservation left. If that orgasm is anything to go off of, I’m ready to run past all the reasons I shouldn’t and drown myself in him.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve taken care of myself plenty of times, and occasionally Patrick and my previous boyfriends got me there. But none compare to the pleasure Bishop pried from my body. His fingers around my throat—paired with his filthy mouth—transcended space and time, taking me over the edge and beyond. It’s more than I could have imagined, and yet it’s exactly what I secretly hoped for.

Ever the gentleman, Bishop turns around and reaches for a bottle of water from the bar. Unscrewing the top, he offers it to me.

“Drink.”

My gaze darts from his face to the bottle and back. I open my mouth to argue I’m fine, when he stops me with a glare.

“I see you ready to argue with me, but there are more orgasms to be had, and I can’t have you getting dehydrated on me. Now drink.”

Eyes narrowing, I take it from him and down half the bottle. Maybe I did need it. Not that I’d say that out loud. Allowing someone to take care of me is a new concept. The thought has always made me cringe. Hell, I don’t even let Leigh and Indie do so, and they’re my best friends. And yet, that’s exactly why I showed up tonight. I’m tired. So fucking tired of being the one who holds everything together.

“Atta girl.”

What is it about those two words uttered from his lips that make my thighs clench? I’ve heard “atta boy” muttered and chanted at the ballpark my entire life, but coming from his mouth is nothing like that. Bishop’s praises feel genuine with a hint of filthy pleasure, and I crave them. I want to be his girl.

No. Not his.

Where did that thought even come from? This is about me. Not him. Not us.

When he’s satisfied I’ve had enough, Bishop takes the bottle from me, sets it on the bar, and grabs the bag of toys.

My stomach flips, confidence wavering, and a seed of doubt blooms deep in my gut. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it. It’s one thing to allow him in, but another entirely to give myself over in order to explore the kinks I’ve only ever entertained in my mind.

When he opened the bag earlier, I half expected him to be like every other man—intimidated by what they don’t understand. I was wrong. So wrong. Bishop isn’t a frat boy fumbling his way around a pussy because he never took the time to ask what a woman likes. He promised to make my body sing, and holy hell, he’d delivered. And that was just with his fingers. He didn’t need the teammates I’d so willingly provided him in an effort to explore my own pleasure. I’ll be lucky if I survive till midnight, let alone morning.

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