Damned: Seven Tribesmen MC (24 page)

Agent Grant eyed Stella, critically.  Something was obviously on Agent Grant's mind and Stella hoped she'd drop it.  No such luck though; Agent Grant licked her lips and averted her gaze from Stella's gaze.  “I know you two have…
had
…a thing going on for a bit.”

The smirk against Stella's thigh faltered.  Bishop strained to hear this woman talk.  Had Stella talked about him to this woman?  Hadn't Stella mentioned something about a new partner?  His curiosity piqued, Bishop ceased his momentary teasing. 

Stella's heart froze in her chest, her eyes widening just slightly.  She really didn't need her new partner reprimanding her on office politics, especially while Bishop lingered agonizingly between her thighs.  “What?”

“Well, you know how cops like their gossip.”  Agent Grant laughed, awkwardly.  Her cheeks pinked as if she were embarrassed for Stella.

“Ah,” Stella grunted noncommittally.   Her heart still shuddered in concern.

“I just want you to know it's fine if...you know…it's not over.” Agent Grant still couldn't meet Stella's eyes.  In fact, the pink on her cheeks seemed to worsen.  Finally, Agent Grant found Agent Holmes's eyes, as she said, “I guess I'm trying to say your secret is safe with me.”

“It's over, Agent Grant,” Stella bit out firml
y—
despite the lie.  She could sense amusement and confusion radiating off Bishop.  Oh, what a situation she had found herself in.  Stella forced a smile to her lips and inclined her head to the other agent.  “But thank you.”

Agent Grant viewed her with a mixture of uncertainty and disbelief.  The woman had barely known Stella for a week and already Agent Grant seemed to read her remarkably well.  Deciding to drop the topic, Grant reverted to business.  Plopping the small stack of papers onto Stella's desk, she said, “Here's the statements from the prostitutes and a visual of the timeline for the delivery.”

“Thank you, Agent Grant,” Stella said, straining to remain professional.  She didn't want her partner feeling as if the cocaine bust was being brushed aside.  Trying to keep the smile on her face though, Stella tried to politely dismiss Agent Grant. “I'll review these and get back to you.”

Agent Grant nodded once, eyebrows lowering into a curious furrow.  Stella tensed, but Agent Grant began to exit her office.  At the door, Agent Grant half-turned to address Stella again, “Are you
sure
you're OK, Agent Holmes?”

Stella's eyes darted to the open corridor.  Officers passed by her door, going about their business.  Meanwhile, she sat without bottoms and Arthur Bishop sat hunched under her desk, his lips oh-so-close to her sex.  She fought down the heat that threatened to spill over her face.  Nodding her head resolutely, she hiccupped loudly, “One-hundred percent.”

Agent Grant didn't appear convinced.  Her eyebrows still arched in concern.  The woman seemed caught between leaving and pressing the issue.  Stella shifted in her seat, praying Agent Grant wouldn't linger.  The longer that door was left open, the greater Stella's fear of having Bishop found beneath her desk increased.

“Your eyes lit up when you heard he was visiting, Stella,” murmured Agent Grant.  Her gaze flickered away from Stella, embarrassed with her forward statement.  Bishop heard the words, an inexplicable joy puncturing his thoughts.  No, he couldn't let himself get too far ahead.  Stella's breath caught in her chest, the reminded excitement throbbing through her core.  She couldn't deny her delight.  “It may not be my place, but I'm just saying.”

Stella swallowed as Agent Grant ducked out of the room and, gloriously, closed the door firmly behind her.  Relief danced across her thoughts as her shoulders eased from their tense hold.  The room shifted as Bishop pushed her chair backward, crawling out from under her desk.

An insufferable grin curled at his lips.  The flush Stella had been holding back careened across her face, angry and mortified.  Stella's reaction only made Bishop's grin grow.  “Your eyes lit up?”

The burn at Stella's cheeks intensified.  She bent down, allowing her hair to hide her cherry-red face as she picked up her panties and pants.  “We shouldn't do this.”

Bishop's over-inflated sense of impending pleasure deflated.  They had work to do.  He stood, his gaze flickering to her desk.  Stella's new partner had brought in statements.  He vaguely wondered if he could nick one without her noticing.  Anything that helped his club would help.  He glanced back at her, bent over and putting her clothes back on.  His hand inched toward the pile of documents.  “You're right.”

Bishop's fingers found the topmost page.  He silently clawed it from the stack, folded it, and jammed it deep into his pocket. 

A sense of disappointment cleaved through Stella's thoughts.  Bishop agreeing wasn't something she had expected, especially seeing the size of his bulge as he stood.  She hid the emotion, as she struggled to get her pants back on.  Standing up, pulling the waistband up over her newly affixed panties, Stella buttoned and zipped up her pants.

He straightened himself, crossing his arms over his chest as Stella straightened up and stared up at him.  Something sad danced just behind her expression, and guilt stabbed into his chest.  He didn't need to ask to know what he had done to upset her.  However, how she felt took second place to his club activities and retributio
n—
though seeing her carefully masked expression, Bishop struggled to see how.

Stella's feet carried her to the door.  Feeling hollow inside, she muttered, “You should go.”

“Yeah, I should.”  Bishop crossed around behind her desk.  He stared down at Stella, who refused to look him in the eyes.  The doorknob rattled, as she moved to open the door.  A sudden urge took over Bishop, and he slammed the door shut with his palm.  Stella's gaze snapped to his face, her eyes wide and face red.  He loomed over her, almost able to hear the excited thrum of her heart.  Locking their gazes, Bishop muttered, “I'm not good at doing things I should though.”

Stella stared up at him.  In the back of her mind, her memory replayed every last encounter they had in this office.  The first time, Stan cut their intimate jaunt short.  The second, she ended it before he could reach his climax. Third time's the charm, right?

Her heart jolted as Bishop locked her office door.  Her breath locked in her lungs and temptation crawled over her thoughts.  Her eyes focused on Bishop's face again, and excitement tingled through her veins.  A revelation slammed into her thought
s—
she could say no, but she wasn't going to. 

Stella reached out and snagged Bishop by the front of his shirt.  She tugged him down and pressed her lips against his, funneling all of her need and desire into that kiss.  His arms wrapped around her middle, pulling her into a tight embrace.

Both became painfully aware of each other’s bodies.  Bishop relished in the soft, pliability of Stell
a—
while she basked against his hard body, quietly enjoying his body heat and his erection against her lower belly.

Bishop started their slow descent down, down, down.  To the floor, just in front of her door.  At the back of her mind, worries and concerns pinged, but her hormones drowned them out.  They had already tempted fate twice.  A third time wasn't going to bankrupt them.  He pressed her back against the carpet, his hands working quickly at the buttons of her blouse.

The rebellious thrill of taking Stella while just beyond the door a department of coppers worked at Bishop's mind.  However, the thought that consumed him more was touching Stella.  He craved flesh-on-flesh touch.  Parting the sides of her blouse, Bishop revealed expanses of bare flesh only marred by the barrier of her bra.  Through the fabric of the brassiere, tight nipples strained against the material.  He dipped down, pressing his lips to her throat.  His teeth razed and scraped over her skin, suckling gently and dropping light kisses along a path from jaw to clavicle.

Stella bit her bottom lip, swallowing down moans, as Bishop's fingers trailed up her sides.  His thumbs teased her covered nipples, her breasts tingling and throbbing in desire.  Her breaths caught, just slightly, as she squirmed under him.  Against her thigh, his cock pulsated through the layers of material.  She clamped down harder on her lip, trying to keep all moan
s—
whether anticipatory or reactionar
y—
from alerting her co-workers.

Her own hands explored Bishop, familiar with all the delightful dips and divots of his body.  Memories nipped at her thoughts.  She wanted those careless, long, lazy days back.  Her digits took their time exploring his shoulders, down his chest, sneaking beneath the hem of his shirt.  Her nails traced his back, and he arched beneath her grazing nails.  Against her neck, Bishop groaned loudly, the vibrations reverberating into her core.  A mewl squeaked from Stella's throat, and his cock twitched in reply.

Bishop felt intoxicated.  He was basking in a fog of hormones, enjoying the languid touches and their slow pace.  He wanted to savor this, to savor her, but damn if he didn't also want to bury himself into her.  His hands skirted down her stomach, causing her to squirm and arch her back.  Her breasts squished against his chest, her nipples taunting him even through his shirt.  Her fingers crooked, digging a little harder into the small of his back.  He grunted, as tingling heat exploded along his back and leaked into his loins.  His cock couldn't wait.

Bishop’s fingers quickly undid Stella's pants for the second time that day.  As she wiggled in assistance, he yanked her dress pants off her, taking her shoes and panties with them.

He wasn't given long to enjoy the scene.  Stella shifted, pushing Bishop onto his knees.  Her hands departed from his back, drifting towards his pants.  She quickly undid his jeans, tugging them down to reveal his cock and balls.  She watched him intensely, as she ran her tongue along the underside of his shaft.

The sudden heat and wetness from her mouth caused a low, loud groan to resonate from his lips.  Her pussy clenched and throbbed, as her tongue swirled around his head.  Bishop's hips bucked, and he closed his eyes, losing himself in the heat of her mouth.  His member twitched against her tongue, throbbing as an influx of blood pounded through it.  Tingles and prickles sliced across his skin, draining heat into every inch of his body.

A particularly loud slam of a desk drawer was followed by a string of harsh obscenities, startling both of them.  Stella sat up, gasping and covering her chest.  Bishop's eyes flew open, his gaze instantly on the door.

He recovered a half second sooner than she did.  Before she could resume tasting his cock, Bishop grabbed her and hoisted her onto his lap.  Her hot, wet pussy radiated against his cock, as it throbbed and bounced against her pussy lips. 

Another gasp tore from her lips, as she found her breasts in Bishop's face and Bishop's cock teasing her slit.  Through the flimsy material of her bra, he sucked and nibbled on her nipples.  She screwed her eyes shut, enjoying the wet warmth.  The graze of his teeth through the fabric taunted her tits, making them throb with heat and pleasure.  Her core echoed the throbbing sensations, knowing his dick was so close. 

With only gratification in mind, Stella shrugged off her blouse, tossing it away, as her hips rocked forward.  Bishop groaned against her chest, her slickness and heat tainting every one of his thought
s—
especially the way she rolled against him, teasing him and goading him to enter her.

Stella shifted and Bishop realized the bra was coming off.  He found his face buried into her supple breasts, her nipples standing at agonizing attention.  His gaze flickered to her face, a grin tilting at his lips.  She stared back, her dark eyes glazed with pleasure and her cheeks pinked enticingly.  He watched her as his tongue flicked over her nipple, trailing around it.

She moaned quietly and threw her head back, jutting her chest toward his face while her hips gyrated against him.  Bishop squeezed her hips once more, and Stella felt herself hauled upwards.  The muscles in her legs tensed; her pussy throbbed; and, her heart skipped a beat.  Down she went, meeting Bishop's hips halfway.

His hard, throbbing member buried itself inside her.  It cleaved into her opening, filling her moist core with hot friction.  She clamped down on her lips as a moan threatened to overcome her.  Her hips rolled, as Bishop smirked against her breasts.  His teeth and lips worked along both breasts, giving them detailed and concentrated attention.  Her fingers curled against his shoulders, and her thighs squeezed against his sides.