Damned: Seven Tribesmen MC (16 page)

 

Stan's anger shifted. His features eased and something glittered in his eyes that Stella found unwelcome. His grip on her shoulders loosened a bit. “Why did you pull her record?”

 

“Well, I uh...” Stella's gaze shifted to the floor. She tried to exude feelings of bashfulness as her hands rolled up the folder, her only distraction from sweeping his hands off her shoulders. The nausea surged upward, coagulating in her throat, but Stella pressed forward. “I overheard you and Delilah in your office on Thursday.”

 

“What did you hear?” Stan's brows lowered, his tone rock-solid and dark. His hands tightened on her again. His fingertips dug into the back of her shoulders, almost painfully.

 

“Just some flirting,” Stella shrugged a shoulder. The movement made Stan drop his hands. She bit her bottom lip as her gaze hesitantly slid up to him. The nausea pounded in her throat. “It upset me, so I took off.”

 

His features softened, again. “Why would it upset you?”

 

“We had gone on that date, not so long ago, and we were rudely interrupted,” Stella rambled. Her gaze shifted from Stan's face, to the wall, ceiling, and floor. She didn't want to see the interest in his eyes. Her stomach curled in on itself, calling Stella a traitor. Her body wanted nothing to do with the man. “I just thought, maybe... Oh, forget it.”

 

She turned away suddenly as mortified and angry heat licked across her face. Subjecting herself to wooing her dirty partner while knowing he was to blame for her attempted abduction and Bishop's drug-induced seizing took all of Stella's acting ability. Her fingers clenched and eased around the tightly rolled up folder, a physical manifestation of her taut nerves. Stan's heavy hand on her shoulder forced Stella to pause.

 

“Stella, are you trying to say you were jealous of Delilah?” Stan glowed with thinly veiled excitement. He forced Stella to turn around and raised his eyebrows as his other hand landed on Stella's free shoulder. Slightly, Stan stooped over her, as if a closer proximity wouldn't shatter his warped reality. “That's why you took some days off?”

 

Her skin crawled as Stan leered at her. The scent of his heavy cologne made her nose itch painfully. She wanted nothing more than to step away and seek sanctuary in her office. Go somewhere far, far away from Stan. Maybe take a shower. The thoughts stilled her words on her tongue while Stan stared expectantly.

 

“Sir? There's a call for you.” An officer tapped Stan on the shoulder. Stan jerked and looked over his shoulder at the man. His hands tightened on Stella's shoulders and the woman knew he didn't enjoy being interrupted in this moment. The need to get away from him flared brightly in her head.

 

“I don't think this is appropriate work talk, Agent Jackson.” Stella breathed, before Stan could snap or dismiss her godsend. She could barely contain the urge to pull away from his hands. The need to wash her face crawled across her skin. Yet, Stella swallowed her discomfort down.

 

“Then where do you suggest?” A coy smile curled at his lips. His thumbs massaged little circles into Stella's shoulders. 

 

“My place?” Stella suggested, forcing the corners of her lips upwards. She prayed her mouth wasn't twisted into a wince. His massaging fingers did little more than roil her stomach. “Tonight at eight.”

 

“It's a date,” murmured Stan with a squeeze of her shoulders. Stella forced a giggle to her lips and nodded quickly, but her heart froze as the man swept down. Agent Jackson landed a peck on her cheek before he swept of down the hallway. Stella stood there, fighting revulsion as she trained her lips into a smile. The nausea in her throat clawed and fought up to her mouth.

 

When her partner rounded the corner, Stella darted down the corridor. She slapped a hand to her mouth as the queasiness surged upward.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

 

Once Stella stepped into her office, the nausea subsided. She leaned against the door, closing her eyes and sucking in deep breaths. Her fingers trembled as she locked the door. Her other hand found the light switch, and the lights flickered on.

 

“You okay?”

 

Stella's gaze snapped open, her eyes finding Bishop lounging at her desk. He made himself at home, just like the last time. Oddly, he seemed more at ease in the office than Stella felt.

 

“What are you doing here?” Stella hissed, pushing herself off the door. She quickly double checked the blinds to make sure they were securely closed. Stella marched to the desk, slamming her hands down and leaning across the surface. All traces of discomfort erased as she leered at him. Deep inside a warm comfort tingled. “If anyone saw you, our plan is going to be screwed.”

 

“Chill out, honey,” Bishop leaned further back in the chair, propping his boots atop her desk. “The janitor snuck me in. They won't breathe a word.”

 

“Stop being so arrogant,” Stella snorted and rolled her eyes. Deep inside, her comfort turned to a heady thrill.

 

“Aw, but isn't that what you enjoy about me?”

 

“In moderation.” Stella shook her head, trying to dislodge her fond amusement. A small part of her enjoyed Bishop's smug nature; another part equally enjoyed wiping his smirk from his lips. “Bishop, what
are
you doing here?”

 

“You seemed nervous about coming in today.” Bishop swung his feet off the desk. The chair creaked under him as he stood up. He recalled Stella's pacing, her faint trembles, and even the shiver in her voice whenever “Monday” came up in their talks. Bishop hated watching her go and hated feeling as if he were failing her. However, a federal agent with a biker bodyguard wouldn't go down very well at a police department. Besides, she had to convince Stan that she was enamored with him, which left a bad taste in Bishop's mouth. The air turned hot and prickly as he rounded the desk, standing beside Stella. “I just wanted to make sure you'd be alright.”

 

She tried to shrug off the giddiness that tickled at her heart. Stella turned toward Bishop. As always, the way he towered over her brought a hormonal excitement through her veins. Sometimes she wondered if that's all Bishop had to do to start the passion-driven fire in her lower stomach. “I'm fine.”

 

“Didn't seem too fine when you walked in.” Bishop reached out, palming Stella's cheek gently. Worry shimmered in his grey eyes as he searched her face, her body, as if seeking something amiss. “Did he do something, Stella?”

 

“No,” she breathed, her heartbeat quickening. It boggled her mind how Bishop could simply look at her and tingles would erupt over her whole body. Faintly, she wondered if she had the same reaction on him. “He bit. He'll be at my place tonight, at eight.”

 

“Good,” Bishop murmured, his thumb brushing small circles on her cheek. Just touching Stella brought heat up his arm and jackknifing into his guts. Bishop resisted the urge to gather her in his arms and feel her soft body against his. “If he did, I can't guarantee your little rendezvous wouldn't end bloody.”

 

Pleasant heat licked at Stella's core and across her cheeks. Deep under her thoughts, something enjoyed the thought of Bishop beating Stan senseless. It was a part of Stella that could never be disciplined, a part that she simply reigned in and kept under her worries and thoughts. Gently, Stella shook her head, trying not to dislodge his palm. “We can't dish out vigilante justice, Bishop.”

 

“Says who?” His grin twitched broader, amusement tinging his expression.

 

Stella furrowed her brow as she shot out a warning on her lips, “
Bishop
.”

 

“This is the price of teaming up with a big, bad, criminal biker.” He dipped his head down low, his lips a fraction away from hers. Bishop ached to taste her, to kiss her, to feel every inch of her body. His fingers twitched at the thought as his hand slid from her cheek to the back of her neck.

 

“That and my sanity,” sighed Stella, her eyes flickering to the man's lips. She swallowed, a jolt of pleasure raced down her spine as his calloused fingertips drifted over her skin. Her hands found their way up his arms, to his shoulders. Stella's mind spun with hornomal anticipation.

 

“You lose your mind when you're around me?” Bishop chuckled, his hot breath playing over Stella's lips. The flush on her cheeks deepened. He slid his hand down to the small of her back, weaseling his way under the fabric so his hand met her skin. He rubbed gentle circles into her skin and, over her groan, he grunted, “Funny, you do the same to me.”

 

Bishop caught Stella's lips against his, pulling her tightly against his body. She shuddered and gasped against his lips as her hands found their way to his chest. His hand on her back drifted further south, wiggling beneath the waistband of her skirt. Bishop slid his hand under her stockings and panties and caressed her luscious ass. He groaned into Stella's mouth, excitement pinching at his groin.

 

Stella whimpered against his mouth, but her hands gripped his kutte tightly. She parted from the kiss long enough to breathlessly murmur, “Let's move to the other side.”

 

Before Bishop could ask why, Stella hauled herself up against him and wrapped her legs around his torso. He stumbled a split-second, before regaining his balance. Both of Bishop's hands gripped at her ass, holding her pussy against his groin.

 

Despite the layers of clothing, his cock twitched in anticipation, as if sensing the close wetness from Stella's sex. This time, Stella caught his lips in a heated kiss, nipping at Bishop's lips. The man grunted and groaned, returning the kiss as he managed to make his way over to the other side of the desk. Bishop eased her down to the desk, partially disappointed as her fleshy thighs detangled themselves from him.

 

Before Bishop knew it, Stella grabbed his kutte and shoved him down into her office chair. The plastic creaked under his weight. Cold clamped down around his left wrist and then his right. Bishop attempted to pull away from the chair arms only to find himself shackled. He blinked and stared up at Stella as she stood. A smug smirk curled at her lips.

 

A strange sense of deja vu fluttered over Bishop's senses. He had been chained to a stick of furniture the first time he and Stella had met. However, Stella's current expression sent erotic delight thundering through his thoughts. His cock strained against his pants, wondering and hoping for a particular outcome.

 

As Bishop stared up at her, his eyes wide and cheeks flushed, a sense of dominance came over Stella. How sweet to have this sort of man at her mercy. Her arms and lower tummy prickled with gratification.

 

“Are the handcuffs necessary, Stella?”

 

“That's
Agent Holmes
, Mr. Bishop,” she purred, lowering herself to her knees. Her hands slid up his legs, both palms meeting at his groin. His cock twitched under her stroke, and a low groan echoed from his lips. A silent thrill licked up her body as she rubbed at his erection through the denim. She could make out the lip of his head and with every pass of her fingertip, his manhood twitched against her hand.

 

“Alright,
agent
,” Bishop laughed, his grin widened. His eyes watched her hungrily as she touched his junk through the fabric of his jeans. “Why am I being chained up?”

 

“For my safety.” Stella couldn't help her own smile. Bishop playing along with her game without inquiry made it all the more fun. Her fingers continued to massage at him. “You admit you're mentally unstable.”

 

“Yeah? And if I still refuse to talk?” Bishop challenged her, his eyes glowing with obstinate pleasure. Even during a game, he could refuse to answer her questions. If he was right, he wouldn't want her creative interrogation tactics to ever end.

 

She simply threw him a grin, before pressing her mouth against his bulge. He gasped and groaned, hot air tickling his erection. His toes curled in his boots, and his balls tightened with pleasure. Through the fabric, he felt her tongue move and dampen his cock. She pulled away suddenly, blowing air across the damp spot. Bishop groaned, coldness kissing his cock. His hot-blooded body whined under the sudden shift in sensations.

 

Stella watched Bishop for a beat. He leered down at her with a molten hot expression, the muscle in his jaw working. A blush of his own colored his face sent a smug swell into Stella's chest. Her hands went to his pants, undoing the button and zipper. Her fingers delved past the denim and brushed against bare skin. An excited trembled curled down her body. Bishop had gone commando. Did he think their meeting would end like this?

 

Her fingers teased and ghosted along his erection. The thick firmness twitched under her touch. Sharp exhalations left Bishop's mouth, his gaze burning into Stella's brown eyes. Her smile twitched as his body tensed and fidgeted, finding some relief in squirming. Slowly, she brought her fingers to her lips coating them with saliv, before sending them back to his twitching member. A low groan sifted from Bishop's lips as he screwed his eyes shut. His dick twitched insistently, craving more. His hips bucked, craving more heat and wetness.

 

A sudden clatter out in the corridor brought Stella down from her dominant high.

 

They were in the police department. She didn't have the time to taunt and tease him for hours. Her own carnal hunger bit at her lower tummy. Her damp panties and throbbing sex made her hormonal craving all the more apparent.

 

Stella quickly kicked off her shoes and then rose to stand. Sensing Stella's shift in position, Bishop's eyes opened, instantly on her. He watched her hands intently as she undid her skirt. The skirt pooled around her feet as she wiggled out of her stockings and panties.

 

Bishop watched her every move. Sexual hunger sunk into his groin, his member twinging needily. His fingers curled around the edge of the chair's arms, fingernails digging into the underside of the cushion.

 

Stella lowered herself into Bishop's lap. Her hot, wet pussy pulsed as it hovered close to Bishop's erection. Just a few more centimeters and he'd be buried inside her. Her nipples hardened against her bra, joy tingling down her spine. Her amusement doubled as the man strained against the handcuffs.

 

He growled in impatience as Stella smiled down at him. He jerked his hips upward, only rewarded with his cock cleaving along her pussy. Enjoyable, but not satisfactory. His fingers twitched and clenched, straining futilely against his restraints. Bishop wanted to grab her hips, slam Stella down against him, and feel her entirely on the inside. His genitals pulsed and tightened at the thought.

 

Sudden heat and wetness clenched around his erection. Bishop groaned as Stella slammed down against him, driving him hard and deep. He gasped and pressed his head back against the chair, his fingers clawing at the cushions. The urge to grab her grew with every inch of friction.

 

Stella's lips swooped down to his neck, her lips moving along his throat. Little nips and sucking coupled with gentle kisses sent erotic tingles along Bishop's body. Stella moaned against his throat, gyrating her hips. The very sound tingled through Bishop's thoughts. His thick cock grazed her inner nerves, her body tensing around him. Heat licked through her body as she rocked and bounced atop Bishop.

 

The man groaned and moaned beneath her, his hips jerked upward to bury his dick further. Stella's wet heat and throbbing muscles pushed him closer to the edge. The handcuffs, though frustrating, licked along his thoughts, making his slow mounting release prod sharply into his groin. Soft mewls and gasps left Stella's lips, spurring his orgasm even closer.

 

She shifted into a ramrod straight position atop him, continuing her gyrations. Bishop cracked his eyes open, watching a blush-cheeked Stella rollick gently atop him. Her actions made pleasure stab through his groin, and his cock twitched eagerly.

 

“I don't know if you've been good enough to come, Mr. Bishop,” Stella purred, her hands sliding down her curves. Bishop swallowed hard and watched Stella's hand drift toward her swollen pussy.

 

“Wh-what?” he grunted, shock curling through his brain. An icy premonition sunk into his thoughts.

 

“Remember what happened the last time we played in my office?” Her soft voice shoved Bishop's premonition further into his mind. Numbly, he nodded, his hands curling into fists. Her fingers made their way to her clit, her fingers playing with the swollen nub. Stella tensed instantly, and her lungs locked momentarily.

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