Excerpt: Bishop's Forgiving Mate
Book 6 : Supernatural Society Mates
Dark blue eyes that belong more to a predator than a man watched him. Avery didn’t need to turn his head to see the burning gaze that bore into him. Instead, he focused on the passing scene as the car moved down the road. He wanted to yell and order Bishop to watch the road, not him, but that meant lowering the armor that protected his heart. He needed to remain indifferent. One chink and it was over. The outburst didn’t count. He shouldn’t have talked about the past. It opened doors that needed to remain closed. He didn’t share personal feelings, but was putting things in perspective. Still, it shouldn’t have happened. Lately, he had been angry. How long had it been since anger took over? Not since the day he left the elf territory. Avery closed his eyes. The past needed to stay in the past.
He focused on breathing, inhaling and then exhaling. The relaxation technique helped patients in pain and helped him with the panic attacks. He concentrated only on breathing. He started to count. The tension left his muscles. His heart no longer tried to pound through his chest. He wasn’t going to reach a meditative state, but he wasn’t going to leap from the moving car. So it was progress. He turned away from the window, refusing to look toward Bishop. “You’re alone in the car,” his mind whispered. He needed to believe that, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. The tension existed within the cracks. Instinctively, he knew his mate was next to him. A part of him yearned to be held, to bask in Bishop’s muscular arms, to seek shelter and security in the man’s embrace. “Cold, remain cold,” his mind ordered. He tried, but the desire burned through him, warming every inch, tempting him to reach over and rub a hand down Bishop’s strong body. He could reach out, but then what, a slap on the hand for the effort, or full-blown car sex. There was no in between—rejection or hot, heavy, meaningless fucking.
He gripped his thighs to prevent his hands from wandering. This was a bad idea. They couldn’t go back, and they couldn’t go forward. If it wasn’t for Luka, he wouldn’t be here, but the other elf needed him. Why did Bishop have to pick him up? Just because he didn’t drive didn’t mean he had to go through the torture of riding with a man that fate deemed to be the other half of his soul. Was that it? Did he feel incomplete?
The car hit a bump. He jerked forward. Bishop’s hand landed across his chest. He hissed at the contact. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure you don’t get hurt.”
The only danger in the car was the vampire touching him. The hand pressed harder into his chest.
“You’ve been working out.” Bishop rubbed down his chest toward his abs. “Solid muscle.”
“That’s right.” He grabbed the vampire’s hand. For a few seconds their skin touched, and then he shoved it away. “I can take of myself and that includes kicking your ass if you touch me again.”
Bishop threw back his head. A laugh filled the car. “Don’t tempt me. Now I want to do something friendlier and a little friskier to see that.”
“Friendlier? Friskier?” What did he mean? He was afraid of the answer. It meant getting close, something he was against.
“I was thinking of pulling you into me as I ravish your mouth, while squeezing your ass.”
Avery’s mouth dropped open. After a second he closed it. “Try something like that and I rip off your balls and burn them.”
“If you do that, then they won’t slap against your ass when I fuck you.”
A flash of being on all fours, while Bishop sunk balls deep inside of him invaded his thoughts. He squeezed his thighs together. “I’m not going to respond to that comment.”
“Just say the word. My bed is always open.”
“As long as you get my ass.”
“No, while that would be nice, if you ever need a place to sleep, I’ll be there for you. No expectations.”
The offer sounded nice, but it came eighteen years too late. Back then he wanted a relationship, but that was no longer an option. Maybe Roman was right. He was running. Why did that have to change? Running helped him survive. Roman stopped helping him run. His boss didn’t say it, but his actions spoke louder than words. The demon knew they were mates, and insisted that Bishop pick him up and drop him off. Basically, only his mate could be was trusted with his safety. Even if Bishop could protect his body, who would protect his heart?