Category: Supernatural Society Mates

Bishop's Forgiving Mate

Bishop's Forgiving Mate by Sydney LainPre-order sale now avail­able until Sep­tem­ber 18th.
Check out the story excerpt!!

STORY EXCERPT from Bishop’s For­giv­ing Mate
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?