by J. L. Beck
Ivy Young is doing everything she can to keep it together.
Forced into an arranged marriage by her cruel parents she knows she has to escape.
Escaping the church is easy, but figuring out where to go from there is impossible. And then she runs into him, a ruggedly handsome man with eyes that pierce her soul. Instantly, she’s drawn to him.
Bishop Williams is a bad boy with tattoos and a history of being a player. He doesn’t believe in love—until he helps a runaway bride escape her parents and soon-to-be groom.
One look, and he knows he can’t just leave her there. One taste, and he’s head over heels.
Neither of them have ever been in love. Not until now, but happily ever afters are hard earned, and with Ivy’s parents searching for her, theirs may not get a chance to bloom.
Will this runaway bride finally find true love?
Chapter One
Ivy
I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror. It’s my wedding day...a day most women wait their entire lives for. For me, however, it’s the one day I can’t wait to be over. Forced into a loveless marriage by my family, I’m drowning in misery.
“You look beautiful, Ivy.” My mother coos, a smile on her lips. I don’t understand how she could be so happy knowing her daughter is being married off to some rich guy to ensure our family status.
“I don’t want to do this,” I mumble under my breath.
The happy smile on my mother’s face falls, and instantly, she morphs into the wicked witch of the west.
“Sometimes we do things we don’t want to do. It’s all part of growing up. Plus, I don’t understand how being married to Joseph could be so bad.”
Of course she wouldn’t understand. She married my father for her own family status, but none of those things mattered to me. Money, power, your last name. I couldn’t care less. When I get married, I want it to be because I love the person, because I want to spend the rest of my life with them, not because I need to up my family's social status.
“I don’t want new shoes or purses.” I shake my head. “I want real love. Joseph doesn’t even care about me. How can he marry someone he doesn’t care about?”
“Don’t be absurd.” My mother shakes her head, giving me a look of disappointment. “Ready yourself. You need to go meet your new husband in ten minutes.” I lift my gaze from the floor, my feet already aching from the stupidly tall heels I’m wearing. My mother slips out of the room without another word, and I let the tears well in my blue eyes.
My cheeks are a soft pink, my lips painted red. I look beautiful, but feel anything but. I’m a fraud, giving into my families wants and needs. At twenty years old, I’m giving up on the idea of love. My parents don't help of course. They've been pushing me into this for well over a year, trying to convince me every chance they got, until I eventually gave in.
Giving myself one last glance in the mirror, I walk toward the door. The dress I’m wearing clings to my body like a second skin. It’s beautiful, but not something I would have picked out myself.
Opening the door, I step out into the hall. The entire upstairs part of the church has been taken over by the wedding party. It’s eerily quiet as I walk in, telling me everyone has made their way down into the actual wedding area. I walk down the hall briskly, my heels clicking against the wood floor. I make it about halfway when I hear it: a masculine grunt followed by a moan.
What the hell?
“Yes, stick it in my ass, Joseph. Fuck me...fuck me hard…” I all but stop dead in my tracks, almost not wanting to believe it.
“Fuck...fuck…” Joseph's deep voice vibrates through me. He’s having sex with another woman on our wedding day.
On our wedding day.
I stand there for a long moment, knowing what I have to do. Slipping out of my heels, I start back the way I came. This is the one thing I needed to push me to run. I don’t care that I’m leaving my family behind, or any of my belongings. Do they really matter if they’re forcing me to marry a man who could so easily cheat on me on our goddamn wedding day? Tears swim in my eyes, making it hard for me to see as I scurry down the steps. I need to get out of here before my parents realize I’m missing.
I walk slow even though my body urges me to run. I make it down the steps, then bolt toward the doors. The church has many entrances and exits, and I’ll try every single one if I have to. I push the side door open, and almost sigh feeling the chill of spring air against my hot skin.
Voices sound behind me, and I grab at the fabric of my stupid wedding dress to make it easier to walk. I step outside, suck in a breath of fresh air, and break out into a dead run. My feet slap against the cold concrete as I run. I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m going to do, but anywhere is better than here.
I hurry down the sidewalk, around the church, and into the alleyway. My heart pounds deep inside my chest, and all I hear is the swoosh of blood in my ears. I run down the alleyway and turn the corner, peeking over my shoulder to see if anyone’s following.
As soon as I do, I collide with a brick wall, one that’s so warm, and smell a lot like sandalwood. My nose wrinkles and my cheeks warm as I gaze up at the person.
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. M
y 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.
“No need to repay me, Bambi, just tell me what the hell is going on before I go find that asshole and rip him a new one for upsetting you.”
She smiles, revealing perfectly straight white teeth behind her red-painted lips.
“It means a lot that you’re helping me. No one helps me.” Her smile slips, a frown taking its place.
Moving of its own accord, my rough palm cups her snow-white skin and I lean into her face.
My cock hardens, and I have to swallow down the arousal. It has been a long time since I’ve been with a woman. I’m done with one-night stands, done with the whole I pay for dinner and a movie in exchange for some fun in the sack. I don’t want sex unless it means something to me, and I’ve had yet to find someone it mattered with.
“I need you to tell me what’s going on,” I nearly growl, but I don’t want to frighten her. She nuzzles into my touch, making my blood pressure spike. Fuck, she’s gorgeous, and clearly on the run from something, yet she’s nuzzling into my touch like she’s never been touched by a man who cares.
“That man was my soon-to-be husband. My parents were forcing me to get married to him, then I heard him…” her bottom lip starts to tremble, and tears fall from her beautiful eyes, “having sex a few minutes before the ceremony.”
I want to squish that fucking bastard for making her cry. He doesn’t deserve her tears, and her parents they are assholes. They can all fuck off. What kind of man cheats on a woman as beautiful as her...on her wedding day?
A fucking idiot.
“What’s your name?” I ask, wanting to pull her into my lap.
“Ivy.” I lick my lips, her name swirling around inside my head.
“Okay, Ivy, do you have anywhere to go? A home? Friends?”
She shakes her head, and a few strands of ash blonde hair escape from behind her ears. I brush the hair from her face, staring deep into her eyes. She has nothing, no one, and her horrible parents are trying to marry her off to some bastard. There’s no way in hell I’m going to leave her here on the side of the road for them to find her. She has nothing, no one, and that speaks to me...it fucking screams.
I have to protect her, save her.
“I suppose you’re coming with me then.” I pull away, grinning. Her brow furrows in confusion.
“What do you mean I’m going with you?”
I start the SUV and put it into drive, pulling away from the curb. “You’re going with me, as in, I’m taking you with me to my place. I can’t let you stay here and risk your parents finding you…” I chance a glance at her as I drive toward my home. Fuck my plans for today. She’s more important. “Unless you want to be found? I can turn around and take you back to him.”
“No. No...please don’t.” She jumps up, twisting around in her seat, her voice rising. My heart swells in my chest. I don’t know her, she doesn’t belong to me, but a part of me wants her to.
“Okay, so you’re coming with me.”
“Why?” she asks a moment later.
“Why what?” I know what she was asking, but I don’t have an answer. I feel compelled to protect her...and that feeling has only grown since finding out her parents intended on marrying her off to some douchebag.
“Why would you help me? You don’t even know me. You just see some woman in a wedding dress and offer to help her? Do you do this often?” A smile pulls at her nervous lips.
“Often isn’t even the word I would use. It’s more like never. And I can’t really explain it. I just feel compelled to help you.” I shrug.
“Am I safe with you?”
Her question has me white-knuckling the steering wheel. “I would never hurt you, or any woman, for that matter.” My response seems to ease her, and she settles back into the seat.
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way if that’s what you’re thinking. I don’t judge people. I just…” She nibbles on her bottom lip, and I find myself wanting to replace her teeth with mine. The need to kiss her is consuming me. I bet she’s still a virgin, her pretty pussy untouched in all ways.
Fuck, don’t even think about it.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself. If I were a woman, I would ask the same question. But...a real serial killer probably wouldn’t tell you he is one, so don’t make it a habit to get into cars with random men, okay?” I wink at her.
“Okay. Only get into the car with you. Got it.” She giggles, and it’s adorable as fuck. Hearing it makes me want to make her smile and laugh more—it makes me want to make her happy.
“Do you live far from here?”
“No. We’ll be there in shortly…” My next question lingers on the edge of my tongue. It’s not any of my business, and I shouldn’t care, but I do, and I can’t stop myself from wanting answers now that I’ve tangled myself up in her business.
“What would compel you to agree to marry that prick?” I grit my teeth, knowing I won’t like her answer, not after she has already told me her parents forced her into it.
“The short version? Money,” she whispers, clearly heartbroken. “Joseph is not only rich, but also powerful, with connections my parents want. They told me they took care of me my whole life, and now, it’s time for me to return the favor and take care of them. My mom said it is my duty as her daughter.”
Sadness seeps from her.
“What a load of bullshit. What is this, the fifteen-hundreds? Who forces their daughter to get married for money or connections? Marriage is something that should take place between two people who love each other. Your parents are assholes.”
“You don’t have the first clue.” I park in front of my apartment building and watch her as she curiously looks up at the building.
“This place looks nice.” She smiles. I open my door at the same time she opens hers, but by the time I walk around, she’s still trying to get out of the car without getting her dress stuck.
“Here, let me help you,” I tell her just before grabbing her hips and lifting her up and out of the car. A soft, feminine gasp escapes her lips. Her chest rises and falls, the swell
of her breasts pushing up over the top of the gown.
“Thank you…” She bats her eyes innocently, and I don’t even think she realizes how gorgeous she is. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask your name earlier.”
“Bishop.” I hold out my hand. She places her small, fragile-looking hand with perfectly manicured fingernails in my large, rugged one. Even though they couldn't look any more different, they fit together perfectly.
“It’s nice to meet you, Bishop.” She smiles, and I can’t help myself, I pull her into my chest right then and there, not caring about anything but my lips finding hers.
Tipping her chin up, I stare into her blue eyes. The heat inside them flares, and I know she’s feeling everything I am.
Leaning down, my lips ghost against hers, gently, unsure at first. It’s clear she hasn’t ever been kissed before just from the way her lips didn’t move even against mine right away. Then, as if something connected in her head, she fiste my t-shirt, and the kiss deepens. She taste like sugar and smells like vanilla. I nip at her bottom lip, needing her to open that pretty mouth of hers so I can taste her tongue with my own.
A deep moan rumbles out of my chest, and I pull her closer, until there’s nothing but the heat of her body surrounding me. I want her out of this dress and withering beneath me.
My cock is hard beyond belief. It has been a long time since I’ve felt pleasure this deep coursing through my veins. Pulling away, I lean my forehead against hers, allowing her to catch her breath. Her pupils are dilated, and I know she wants more, need more, just as I do.
Without a word, I take her hand into mine and guide her toward my apartment. I can barely keep my eyes off her as we walk. When we finally reach the door to my apartment, I fish out my keys and unlock it.
Before Ivy has the chance to walk over the threshold I bend down and pick her up. She let out a squeal, but I couldn’t tell if it was from fear or surprise. I could picture her being afraid of me, and I’d never allow her to.
Her arms come up around my neck as I carry her into my place bridal style.