“We’re not alone,” I whisper.

We’re both breathing hard as we lock gazes.

Bishop drags his tongue across his bottom lip. “We should get out of here before I do something embarrassing, then.”

CHAPTER 22

BEST BAD DECISION

Bishop

The week of Stevie deprivation combined with her looking too edible for words and all the pent-up sexual frustration seems to have finally come to a head. So my reaction to kissing Stevie, which is to keep kissing her until the world ends or one of us catches on fire from all the friction, seems entirely logical.

“Okay.” It’s more of a moan than a word.

I’m hella surprised she doesn’t put up more of a fight. It’s not like Stevie to give in easily. Not for me, anyway. She spins on her heel, lavender hair fanning out in a wave and settling around her shoulders. Before the night is over I’m going to have my nose buried in that hair. It’ll be a knotted mess because my hands are going to be in it, and I’ll most definitely have it wrapped around my fist at some point.

Jesus, I’m so hard I could dent a car with my dick. Her hips sway mesmerizingly as she glides across the floor, me trailing behind her like some sort of horndog bodyguard and glaring at any guy who dares to look at her as she passes, which incidentally is every guy in the whole damn room.

Stevie stops to say something to Pattie and Jules on the way out of the hall. I step up beside her and place a protective hand at the small of her back. The dress comes down so low I can see those sweet dimples just above her ass. All I want is to get her out of here so we can pick up that kiss where we left off.

Pattie’s gaze shifts briefly to me, eyes narrowing and her smile growing conspiratorially with whatever Stevie says to her.

“See you on Monday.”

“I’ll be in for takedown tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that.” Pattie hugs her and drops her voice, whispering something I don’t catch. Whatever it is, it makes Stevie blush. I spot Joey on the other side of the room, looking like he wants to either murder me or be me.

I nod to Stevie’s friends and thread my fingers through hers, keeping her close as we navigate our way through the crowd. Recognition flares in several sets of eyes as we pass, but I must be wearing a pretty nasty expression because no one approaches me. As we get to my SUV, Stevie rummages around in her bag for the keys, shoulders curled in as she shivers against the biting wind. A light drizzle coats her hair and her skin.

“Didn’t you bring a coat?” I unbutton my suit jacket and shrug out of it.

“I left it in my locker. It’s fine there until Monday.” Stevie produces a set of keys with shaking fingers.

I snatch them from her hand and drape my suit jacket over her shoulders. I consider going in for another kiss, but the rain is picking up and it’s chilly out here, so I usher her around to the passenger side and help her in.

Once I’m behind the wheel, I turn the engine over and crank up the heat before I slide my arm across her seat and curl my fingers around the back of her slender neck. We move toward each other like magnets. Our lips meet, and lust crackles around us like static.

She flicks her tongue out to tease my top lip. “I thought maybe that almost-kiss had been an accident.”

“It was. I was told to keep it professional while you were rehabbing me.”

She pulls back. “By who?”

“My coach. I listened for as long as I could, but the last thing I was going to do was let you come to this event, where your douche ex or one of those wannabe hockey players could make a move, when I should’ve said screw it and done it weeks ago.”

“Oh. Well, I’m glad you decided to screw it.” Stevie shifts in her seat, her warm palm landing on my cheek, fingertips brushing along my jaw and curling into the hair at the nape of my neck. Her lips part, welcoming me in again. I want to get inside her, taste every single inch of her. I want the smell of her sex all over my skin and my sheets and in my mouth.

I can’t get close enough to make any of that happen with the center console in my way, so eventually I break the kiss. “I need to get naked with you.”

“Same.” Stevie starts to loosen my tie.

While car sex was fun when I was a teenager, it’s definitely not comfortable, or smart, since we’re in the middle of a parking lot. I cover her hand with mine and bring her fingers to my lips. “In a bed, preferably.”

She blinks a few times and bites her lip. “Right. Yes. Good idea.”

We come back together for one more kiss that lasts so long the windows start to fog before we separate and buckle ourselves in.

“We should probably go to my place.” Stevie sounds like she’s trying to be conversational, but her tone is low and husky. She twists her hands in her lap, then stretches her arm across the seat and slips her fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck.

I’d rather have the smell of her on my sheets, but I don’t want to run into my brother on the way to my bedroom. I also don’t want Stevie to feel compelled to be quiet because she’s worried he’s going to hear. His company never is, but this is not even remotely close to the same. “Sure.”

The drive home feels like it takes a million years. We make out in the elevator on the way to the penthouse floor and don’t stop until Stevie needs to use her fingers for more than fisting my hair and unbuttoning my shirt.