Checkmate With Bishop: A Hellions MC Novel

by J. A. Hornbuckle

  “When did you decide to let it grow, honey?” she asked softly, her eyes moving between what her hands were doing and his gaze which had thoroughly and completely remained steadfastly on her.

  “After ol’ man Palmer died and I couldn’t find anyone else who could it cut it like I liked,” he murmured on an equally quiet note. “When it grew long enough so I could put it in a ponytail, I liked how it felt. How it stayed off my face.”

  When all the loops were released, she shoved both hands into the long, long tresses, using her fingers as a comb as she spread it out around them, creating a canopy of sorts, a drape of his hair that shut out everything but the two of them. “It’s beautiful.”

  It was a simple compliment from a woman who was no longer simple and said with feeling. So much so, Bishop didn’t feel the need to reply. But the need to use his lips was there and without hesitation he rolled more fully onto her even as his mouth found hers.

  He tried to keep it light, just staying to the surface of her still luscious mouth, but with how his cock was responding it was a struggle. His tongue wanted in on the escalating action, demanding to play with hers.

  And when that goddamned want became a fucking need, Bishop gave up the fight and slanted his head.

  *.*.*.*.*

  I knew it wasn’t right when I first started it, when I first awoke to find Stan pressed tightly against me. But I was still just drunk enough to blow off any of the cautions my mind was throwing around.

  It was the view of Stan though that started it all. With his face relaxed in sleep, he looked more like he had when I’d been married to him, instead of the big bad-ass biker he’d grown into.

  Carefree.

  Wild.

  And more prone to laughter than not.

  Letting my fingers lightly trace his features, I was overcome with the past albeit along a different trail than the memories that sometimes drifted through my mind. Ones of us when we’d been alone, making each other so hot, so goddamn full of hormonal heat that we would shiver in delight as we touched one another. Of eschewing TV in favor of playing our version of ‘Strip Rummy’, a card game that we’d invented just for us with the sole excuse of getting each other slowly naked. And of the many, many times we’d made love in many, many places throughout our tiny one-bedroom apartment.

  We’d loved each other with a fierceness that had taken my breath away. Had me clamoring to be joined with him, connected and held by nothing more than his cock inside me, at the way our bodies fit so sublimely together, as one. And maybe it was because of those types of memories, because he was pressed so lovingly to my side at that moment or even that I had overheard he’d gotten J.R. another room that caused it. Whatever it was, it provided me with both the opportunity and the motive to make my play.

  It hadn’t taken much, not after I’d eased myself away in order to whip my t-shirt and panties off. Especially after I’d discovered he was naked, still liked to sleep in nothing but the glorious skin God had given him. And I took his rolling onto his back as approval for me to initiate, to start something that my body was clamoring to have just one more time.

  It hadn’t taken much to get him involved. A light kiss here, a stroking touch there were all that were needed to have him gathering me into his chest, to moaning as he rolled with me, getting me on my back as our tongues continued to duel. I’d press and he’d touch, I’d pull back and he’d follow until he was finally, freaking finally on top of me, his cock seeking and then discovering where it needed to be.

  I’d even guided it home, sighing deeply as I felt it fill me, filled me completely.

  Just as it always had.

  And I’d known the exact moment he’d awakened, when he became aware of exactly what he was doing and with whom, because it was in that moment Stan no longer simply reacted but began to move with a purpose. Both in giving delight and allowing me to see, to feel all the pleasure he was experiencing. And it was still the best. But then sex with Stan always had been whether it was done with driving need or in slow sultry passion that teased before providing satisfaction.

  That night was no different.

  Only then, when it was done, when we’d begin to come back to ourselves, my brain took over and I spoke without thinking. Which I believe was my half-assed way of trying to create a wall, to refute the emotions of everything I was feeling in that moment.

  Calling it ‘weird’, when it more than wasn’t.

  Trying to mentally ascribe it to ‘just one of those things’ even when I knew, knew I was still so caught up in him that I could easily, so freaking easily, lose my heart to him again in spite of the bitter anger I still held at the thought of him taking my kid.

  But Stan got it. And made sure to let me know that he wasn’t going to stand for any of the bullshit I was slinging. Doing it in such a way that didn’t hurt and allowing me the dignity to back my ass down.

  It was when he initiated round two, when he again begin to kiss me beneath the curtain of his glorious hair, that I remembered. Remembered something that I should’ve thought of initially but hadn’t. And because I hadn’t then and was doing so at that particular moment found me almost frantic.

  “Stan? Wait!” I yelped, pushing my palms against his chest as I tried to disengage his mouth from mine. “We didn’t use a condom!”

  “Wha’?” he replied, his deep voice sounding deeper and sexier than ever.

  “Condom! We didn’t use one!”

  He finally pulled back and stared at me. “And? So?”

  I blinked up at him wondering if he didn’t get it due to all the blood that was rushing to his cock and not his brain. “Hello? Prevention of pregnancy? A way to not spread diseases? Ring any bells?”

  He planted a palm into the mattress and the way his long, long hair slid against my skin as he moved. It was like a caress. With a shake of his head, he allowed it to flip over a shoulder. “Yeah.”

  Wait…what? I stopped talking and tried using my powers of mental persuasion to help him understand because, for me, a simple yeah didn’t mean dick.

  Stan shifted again but his eyes never left mine and I felt my eyebrows as they drew tightly together when he didn’t speak. “You need to use your words, Stan.”

  He blinked deeply. “What words do you want me to say, mama? That I’m sorry we forgot?” I found the grin he seemed to be fighting entirely out of place at that particular juncture. “Are you afraid of getting pregnant again?”

  I swallowed. “I’m on the pill but I was on the pill the last time this happened.” I shook my head to dislodge all of the weird thoughts that were crowding my brain, ones of me going through another pregnancy but with Stan at my side. Of us holding a small bundle, a girl this time, as we smiled at one another.

  The need to shut that shit down rode me hard.

  So I started slinging bullshit again. “What about diseases, huh? I can pretty much figure that you haven’t been living the life of a monk and the Honeys are pretty good in giving out favors to all the brothers so I…”

  “Was tested for every fucking thing under the sun when I was in the hospital, babe. If I was carrying, they would’ve told me.”

  Well, wasn’t that just freaking ducky!

  But I obviously wasn’t done because my mouth engaged before I even had a chance to stop it. “And what’s with you calling me ‘mama’? What the hell is that about, huh?”

  He leaned down until his forehead was again against mine and tilted his chin until our lips barely touched. “You are the mama to our son, babe. A boy so beautiful and smart, so goddamn wise for his years, which is all on you. Because of you, J.R. is someone I’m proud to say I created with you, fucking goddamn honored to claim as mine. And if we just created another one, so much the better.”

  Holy shit!

  His words, such as they were and much as I tried to fight them, sunk way, way deep inside me even as my mind took to screaming. If I was so terrific then why did he want to rip J.R. away? My body started trembling at th
e war between my brain and the space in my chest where emotions reside. “We should still should’ve used a condom.”

  “Don’t have any on me,” he advised with what could only be called a shit-eating smile that I felt more than saw. “And seeing how we’ve already done the deed bareback, don’t feel the need to make a middle of the night run for ‘em, dig?”

  I turned my head away, feeling his lips as they trailed across my cheek until they stopped next to my ear. “Although, there are still lots and lots of ways for us to play if you don’t want me inside.” He pressed in again and I could feel every inch, every freaking, beautiful inch that was filling me as he moved his mouth down, sliding his lips along the length of my neck. “Your choice, mama.”

  My palms hit his chest again to push him off of me. Or at least I thought I did but I was still fighting the battle of my mind and heart. If he wanted me so much then why had he treated me so badly?

  He seemed to know of my dilemma, looked as if he was having his own internal battle as well. And with that knowledge, I quit struggling.

  “Then I want to ride, honey,” I stated firmly, my mouth echoing what was in my heart. If I was only going to get one night of being with Stan again, I was going to make the most of it.

  And that second round, even the third was just as awesome as it had ever been.

  Had always been when Stan and I got to play.

  Chapter Twenty One

  It was after ten when I found myself staring into my own eyes in the foggy mirror, noticing I looked only slightly better than I felt. But then nights of decadent debauchery will do that to a girl. Leave their marks as witness to all of what had gone on in the dark.

  I’d awakened alone in the bed but with J.R. in residence, his chair at the end of the mattress, headphones firmly in place as his fingers worked the control pad of his gaming system. He’d offered an overly cheery ‘good morning’ as I’d stumbled past him on my way to the bathroom and I’d forced my hand to lift in response. But even that effort had almost been too much.

  The shower had helped. Had assisted in clearing away the last of the alcohol cobwebs but had done nothing for the sweet ache that occupied the space between my thighs. Just enough of a throb to let me know the doings of the night before weren’t some kind of dream but had been a beautiful reality.

  Although without Stan around when I finally had crawled out from beneath the covers had been disappointing. A letdown after all we’d shared in the dark of early, early morning.

  I made myself as presentable as possible before I left the bathroom, firmly sticking a smile on my overly tight face as I stepped over and around J.R. to make my way to the tiny kitchen. Coffee was my goal, a valiant one that would hopefully bring me even closer to feeling human. And without thinking, I reached for the filters and pulled out the can of grounds before my eyes noticed the carafe was full. Touching it, I found it was also hot. And I wasted no time in filling a cup, taking it to the table so I could fully savor the life-blood that I needed in order to start my day.

  I was maybe three sips in when I felt J.R. standing next to me. I raised my eyes and saw he was holding a bottle of aspirin. “Bishop said to give you these as soon as you woke up. Said you might have a headache.”

  So Stan had talked to J.R. before he left, but not to me, I thought. And I wondered if that was how we were going to play it going forward, communicating through our son but not directly with each other. “Thanks, baby,” I offered and with a cheeky smile, my kid dropping the two tablets into my palm. “When did he leave?”

  “About an hour ago. Called a guy to come pick him up.” J.R. started back to his chair. “Said he’d be back later.”

  I was on my second cup when there was a soft knock on the door. I made a move as if to stand but J.R. was already there, peering out the little spy-hole before he twisted the locks and opened it. “Hey, Bishop.”

  “Little man,” Stan said back, coming fully into the room with a couple of fast-food bags. His eyes met mine and as they connected, I saw Stan’s soften. They roamed over me and a half-sided grin made its appearance on his face. “Dory.”

  “Morning, Stan,” was about all I could muster at that moment but my stomach chose to give off a audible rumble.

  With his eyes still on mine, Bishop told J.R. to turn off his game and wash up. And I was surprised to note that J.R. did exactly as asked without any arguments for ‘another five minutes’, much like I received each and every time I’d requested the same.

  “Figured you might need food, mama,” Bishop said as he dropped his bags on the table before moving to the kitchen cabinets to snag plates and silverware. “At least I know I always needed food after one of my bouts with the demon rum.”

  It had been tequila but I didn’t have it in me to argue the point, mainly because he was right. Food would help me feel better.

  It was at the end of our meal, one that found the three of us together at the table that had Stan pushing back his chair as he wiped off his face and hands on a napkin. “Okay, so here’s what I’ve got. The Hellions own a number of properties in town but at the mo’, we only have three that are vacant. One’s a condo and even though it’s a two bedroom, I don’t think it’d suit. So after we clean up here we’ll go view the two available and you can pick whichever one you like.”

  The bite I’d been preparing to take stopped halfway to my mouth as I dragged my gaze up to his. “What?”

  “He said that the club owns property and there are two houses he wants us to view, Mom,” J.R. reiterated before biting into his rectangle of hash-browns.

  I put my breakfast sandwich down slowly. “I heard what he said,” I chuffed on a growl. “My ‘what’ was more along the lines of…”

  Stan’s hand reached across the table to snag one of mine, a move I saw J.R.’s eyes follow. “You have to remain in Montana until we get this all ironed out, yeah? The Hellions have rentals that you can live in while we wait for our court date.”

  I don’t know why, but I’d more than expected all that shit to have gone away with what Stan and I had done in the middle of the night. And at that moment, I was kicking myself for being so freaking naïve in thinking that us sharing sex would’ve changed his mind about suing me for custody of our son.

  “You’ll need a legal residence in order to enroll J.R. in school,” Stan explained, not telling me anything I didn’t already know. “And to my mind, the middle school on this side of town isn’t as good as…”

  “I’d already planned to…” I tried again to get a word in edgewise.

  “I’m sure you did, mama. But the sooner we get you set up, the sooner you can send for your stuff and get the both of you settled.” Stan’s voice was calm but his eyes held a light I didn’t like. And I especially didn’t like that he wanted me in a house owned by the Hellions. “Let’s finish up so we can go.”

  With J.R. sitting there, our kid avidly interested in the interactions of his parents, I couldn’t unleash the unholy words that were stuck in my throat but I could tell Stan was aware of them. And was aware of why I wasn’t spewing them, the bastard.

  I’d been played.

  Played just as easily as any other dumb broad on the street.

  First he’d loved me up and then wormed his way into our little family by bringing us breakfast. And then as if the previous things weren’t enough was making himself out to be the hero, the savior of the day with his offer of a house!

  “What if I don’t like either one of them?” My eyes were narrowed so hard, the muscles around them began to twitch.

  Stan shrugged and shot a smile to J.R. “Then we’ll find someplace else. I also have a line on a salon that’s hiring or, if you prefer, a space that could be fitted for one.”

  “Wow!” J.R. said, his face beaming up at Stan’s. “You’ve got it all wired!”

  Wired, my ass, I sneered to myself. Manipulated was the word that actually fit!

  “We can leave just as soon as you two are done.” Stan ended his l
ittle speech on a magnanimous note and I longed to kick him hard under the table. He wasn’t fooling me! All that he had offered just meant that he would know where we were, what J.R. and I would be doing every moment of every goddamn day.

  But I knew when I was licked. And I echoed J.R.’s moves by cramming the rest of my sandwich into my mouth even as I balled up its paper wrapper.

  I may have been down but I was far from out.

  *.*.*.*.*

  Bishop watched Dory as she slowly and carefully walked through each room, her arms entwined around her waist, her face a study of blankness. That was until she went into the third bedroom of the older, ranch style house.

  “Purple?” she’d muttered, turning to look over her shoulder his way before turning back.

  He smiled at her response. “Yeah, Hardwood and Lulu used to rent the place and his little sister, Julie, had this room. I think the Honeys painted it ‘princess purple’.”

  Which had suited the little girl to a ‘T’ since she was such a girly-girl.

  Dory turned and made her way back down the hall, brushing by Bishop close enough that he could smell her perfume. “It’s big enough but there’s no dishwasher,” she mumbled when she once again stood in the middle of the living room.

  Bishop shrugged as he went to stand next to her. “That’s an easy fix. It has a detached garage and is close to the middle school.” He knew what she was fucking doing, had almost predicted the attitude that he’d watched coming, much like a storm that swept across plains. She didn’t want him to help her find a place to live, didn’t want him in her life full stop. Although she sure as shit hadn’t complained about having him in her bed. “But we still have the other house to look at.”

  She turned her eyes to the big picture window as if to determine where J.R. was after the boy had said he was going outside. And as his gaze followed her own, he saw J.R. talking with a couple of other young teens his age, holding a skateboard and nodding as he spoke.