Bishop's Angel Read Free

in a
sheet, hiding the sweet curves he’d already been privy to. That
didn’t do much to calm down his excited cock.
    “What are we going to do now?”
    Is she really asking me that? He
wondered what she’d do if he said go upstairs and fuck. Christ,
why am I so damn horny all of a sudden? “I’m going to bed after
I finish my sandwich.” He turned to walk back to the kitchen.
    “No, I mean about this. I can’t go home, my
house has been tented for termites.”
    Bishop stopped and Angel plowed right into
his backside. He turned his head and glanced down at her. A pretty
blush tinted her high cheekbones. “This house is big enough for the
two of us.”
    “But,” she hesitated, biting down on her
sexy bottom lip.
    Bishop’s gaze went there. He’d like to bite
down on that full lip, draw it into his mouth and suck on it until
she was moaning against him. But he wouldn’t. She seemed too
innocent for the likes of him, too nice. He hadn’t had time to
develop any relationships over the last few years, it had been
better that way. So he’d stuck with the kind of women who didn’t
expect anything from him. The frown on Angel’s face told him he’d
been staring down at her too long.
    “Relax. I know there’s only one spare
bedroom. I’ll use the couch.” Bishop wondered if she knew what she
was doing by looking him up and down as if she were sizing him up.
All it was doing for him was making him hotter. Damn. It
occurred to him that he was attracted to her, and that just
wouldn’t do. He’d better get his libido in check.
    “I think I’d better take the sofa. It’s more
my size,” she smiled.
    “I’d never take a bed away from a lady.
Besides, I’ve slept in worse places.” Why is she looking at me
like that? Like she’d just found a lost puppy. Bishop didn’t
like it, not one bit.
    “Look, it’s all decided. I don’t mind
really. You’ll be more comfortable in my bed.” Her color deepened,
as he smiled at her slip. “I mean the spare bed.” She turned and
headed back to the stairs. “I’ll just go up and get a pillow and
blanket.”
    Bishop shook his head at her persistence and
went back into the kitchen. He sat back at the island bar and
picked up his roast beef sandwich. God, he was bone tired! He
practically wolfed down his food, finished his beer in one long
swallow, and put the dirty plate in the sink. A slight noise coming
from the living room told him Angel had returned and must be making
her bed.
    Well, he wasn’t going to argue with her, but
he had every intention of sleeping on the sofa. Once he got a quick
shower he’d move her cute little ass back upstairs. Flipping the
light switch off, he went to the downstairs bathroom and stripped.
He never liked looking at his body in the mirror. Too many scars
reminded him of the dangerous, ugly work he had done as a SEAL. His
last mission had almost ended his life, and he’d done a lot of soul
searching since.
    Stepping under the shower’s spray he quickly
lathered his hair and body, then rinsed and dried off. He pulled on
a pair of boxer briefs and padded barefoot to the living room. As
soon as he glanced down at Angel he could tell she was sleeping
soundly. Her soft snores made the lock of hair across her face blow
away from her parted lips. Deciding not to wake her, Bishop leaned
down and picked her up.
    She stirred slightly, snuggled against his
chest, but continued sleeping. He carried her easily up the stairs
and back to the spare bed. Then he carefully lay her down. She
mumbled something and turned on her side before settling down
again. Standing above her pleasing form, he clenched his teeth when
a fresh wave of desire washed over him. Her nightshirt had ridden
up, exposing all of her shapely thighs and the swell of flesh that
had escaped the elastic of her panties.
    Fuck! I have to get out of here. He
turned, a little too sharply. Exhaustion from being awake for
forty-eight hours was rapidly catching up to him. Dizziness