My Boss’s Secret by Taryn Quinn

Twenty-Four

This evening had takenan unexpected turn. Why was I even surprised?

Looking at Bishop and Key sitting side by side on the couch—well, with two cushions between them—was vaguely disturbing. Not only were they both insanely handsome specimens, they strongly resembled each other, right down to the stubborn set of their chins. The biggest difference was that Bishop was broader and more muscular, where Key had more of a runner’s body and was taller. And of course, Bishop’s eyes were gorgeous gem green where Key’s were more of a muted shade.

Not that I was biased or anything.

But as much as they looked alike, they definitely were very different men. I’d just met Key, and I knew that already. Bishop was so naturally outgoing, although Key might’ve been more reticent because of the awkward situation.

Oh, boy, was it awkward.

I glanced over to where the formerly pissed-off parrot was now sitting at the top of a miniature sized bird slide complete with small wading pool, daintily eating a whole banana—including the peel. “Santiago is enjoying himself.”

The mere sound of my voice had him lifting his head to give me a beady stare. I expected him to yell his favorite word but he just kept eating.

“The way to his heart is through his stomach. Shove a banana at him and he chills right out. It’s basically parrot weed.”

I coughed. “Maybe I need a banana then.”

“You aren’t the only one,” Key muttered.

“How did you get the name Key? Seems questionable with the last name Stone.”

“No kidding. That would be my father’s idea, since he apparently impregnated my mother in her dorm room on the campus of Keystone College. They thought it was a sign.”

Lifting my brows, I looked at Bishop. “And let me guess, your dad is a chess fan?”

“Nope, Bishops are the mascot of a football team they saw play the day he knocked my mom up.” He rolled his eyes. “By the time they got to Michaela, they’d given up that nonsense and Mom just picked a name they both liked. Mickey was eternally grateful because by then our father was taking graduate courses at Syracuse University. She had no desire to be named Orange for their mascot or any variation therein.”

“Aww, good thing. I was hoping we could save Orange for ours.” I didn’t know what made me say it. Probably some deep down desire to demonstrate without a doubt to Key that Bishop was doing just fine after his betrayal.

The emotion that moved through Bishop’s gaze made my fingers twitch on the arm of the recliner. We’d spent so much time holding hands today that I didn’t know what to do with him being so close and not being able to touch him.

As if he knew, he patted the seat beside him. I went to him without a word, catching Key’s mystified look as I curled into his brother’s side.

“You two are cute,” he said from my other side.

Still mystified? Check.

“Thanks.” I spoke when it became clear Bishop had no intention of it. “I’d say you’re cute too, but your brother is cuter.”

Key laughed. “Hooked this one good, Shoop.”

“He sure did. What does Shoop stand for?”

Bishop wrapped his arm around my shoulders and tipped his head to mine. “This is not a chance for you to find out all my embarrassing stories.”

“You think not? C’mon, spill it.”

“He loved that song by Salt ’n’ Pepa. Every time it came on, he tried to rap. It was fairly sad.”

“I was six,” Bishop informed me before leaning around me to speak to his brother. “Tried to? I rhymed with Pepa like it was my job. Shows what you know.”

I swallowed a laugh until Bishop pinched my side and it tumbled out of me, unrestrained. “I’m trying to picture you rapping.”

“Oh, he did it all the time, even after he was grown. I can’t say he got any better. There was even talk of playing ’Shoop’ at the reception, but Rina—” Key cut himself off, but it was too late. The mood was ruined.

I cut a glance toward Bishop, but he didn’t look pained. If anything, he seemed…bored. His gaze locked on my legs, pulled up under me with the hem of my sundress just barely covering them. He slid a possessive hand over my knees, and it might’ve niggled at me if I hadn’t understood all too well why he’d feel proprietary.

“You married Rina,” I said after a moment, silently imploring Bishop with my eyes. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, but sitting in this uneasy silence wasn’t helping anyone. Better to excise the wound and move on if that was all that was left.

I hoped it wasn’t, for Bishop’s sake. From little comments he’d made here and there and even how he’d looked at his brother, I knew he missed the excised parts of his family. If this could be the beginning of getting them back in some shape or form, then the discomfort would be worth it.

Key stared at me as if I’d just swallowed a flamethrower. Even Santiago dropped his banana peel in open shock before he flapped his wing and hopped down to retrieve it. I could just imagine his thought process.

Human dramas are so tedious.

“Yes,” he said slowly.

“And you divorced her?”

He nodded.

“Honestly? Or did she cheat on you too, and you’re trying to preserve your questionable masculinity?”

Bishop smothered his laughter in a cough.

“No. At least, I don’t know it if she did. We grew apart. Classic story. I’ve had friends it happened to, and most of them say there’s nothing to be done to avoid it.”

“Sure there is.” I shrugged. “Don’t marry a woman you can’t trust. But then again, you’d be screwed anyway, since you’re not exactly batting a million on the trust score yourself.”

Key blinked. “You’re a cute little bunny with vampire fangs.”

This time, Bishop didn’t temper his laughter. I cocked a brow in his direction as it rolled out of him, but I much preferred him laughing than something else.

I crossed my arms. “What exactly did you come here to do?”

“Sharp vampire fangs,” Key muttered.

Bishop laid a hand on my thigh and squeezed. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I can interrogate people too. Take a night off, counselor.”

“I only have one brother.” Key lowered his voice. “I screwed up, okay?”

“Would it be okay if he’d done it to you?”

He cracked his jaw. “No. I wouldn’t even be sitting here right now. But he has you and is happy. He said it himself. So, what does it—”

“What does it matter that you’re a faithless whore?” I asked pleasantly. “A hell of a lot, actually. Loyalty is the foundation of a relationship. Any relationship, and it seems like you need some remedial work on that subject.”

Bishop’s hand turned into a steel brace on my leg, but a quick glance at his face told me he wasn’t angry. Try the opposite. His steady green gaze roamed my face, settling there with the sort of hungry promise that told me he wasn’t thinking of any other women but me right now.

“Damn, Bishop, no wonder you don’t care about Rina anymore. You’ve got ten times the woman sitting right here, defending you.” Key didn’t give Bishop a chance to reply. “You’re right. I hate that you’re right, but you are.”

“I am?” I cleared my throat. I was new at this whole ‘being kickass’ thing. “Yes, I am. So there.”

Bishop’s pressure on my thigh grew even more intense and hotter somehow. As if we were now alone, no matter who else was physically with us.

They didn’t exist anymore. Simply didn’t matter.

“I have 100 times the woman Rina was at my side.” Bishop’s mouth brushed along the side of my neck, and I shivered so visibly that Key’s eyes widened. “And you did me a favor by making sure I didn’t marry the wrong woman, so someday I can marry the right.”

Oh, God. Now I was really shivering. Inside and out. I didn’t bother trying to hide it, either.

Bishop needed to know exactly how I felt. No more guessing games. No more tucking parts of myself away.

He was getting all of me from now on. Good, bad, and horny.

Leading with horny at the moment.

Key leaped to his feet. “All right then. Guess that’s my cue to go.”

Bishop let Key walk a few steps toward the door before speaking. The whole time, his gaze remained on mine.

“Key.”

Key waited.

“I appreciate you coming by. We’ll talk again.”

That was it. No long drawn out acceptance of the apology I hadn’t heard Key give, but I assumed maybe he had in the hall. No false platitudes. Not even a hug.

But even that much of an olive branch made Key’s tight frame sag for a moment before he shored up his defenses and smiled briefly. “Thanks, Shoop. It’s damn good to see you—and to see you like this. It’s different now with her, isn’t it?”

Bishop nodded but he didn’t elaborate. He was too busy trying to make me come with nothing other than the power of his stare.

It was on its way to working too.

“I’m glad. Truly I am. Nice to meet you, April.”

“Same.” I waved at him over my shoulder without turning toward him. I’d given him enough of my attention for one night.

Now I had an all new focus. My favorite one.

“As for you, bird,” Key said, “it’s been real.”

Santiago threw what was left of his banana peel at him. Then after Key left, he retrieved it and started nibbling at it again.

“Waste not, want not.” I laughed.

But Bishop wasn’t in the mood to laugh anymore. “Did you find your way to my bedroom?”

“What, for those five minutes I was alone in here?” I shook my head. “No. I texted Lu to see if she was feeling okay enough to check on Kit-Kat tomorrow morning.”

“Oh?” He fingered my windblown hair, twirling it between his thick fingers. “Reason why?”

“Yes. I want to suck you off in front of those big, wide windows over there.” I nodded toward the big transom windows on the other side of the open space that made up his living area, cut off on one side by the surprisingly spacious galley kitchen.

One I intended to investigate after I made a meal of him.

“Jesus, baby, you’re going to have me messing up my rug this time instead of yours.”

“No, I won’t.” I swallowed hard and tugged at the bodice of my sundress as I climbed onto his lap to straddle him. “I have a much better target for you to aim for.”

“Yet you’re climbing on top of me…”

“I don’t want to wait. I’m greedy. What can I say?” I leaned forward and yanked down the collar of his T-shirt, feasting my mouth on his skin. Trailing kisses from his neck over his collarbones and then farther down to where his dark hair started. “I love this. Think it does something to my pheromones.” I ran my fingers through the crinkly strands while he let out a chuckle. “Do you think you’re up to performing similar feats to what you did on Monday?”

“Depends. Be descriptive.”

I peeked up at him as I licked his skin. “I’ve never actually given a blowjob.”

“Ever?”

“Never.” I yanked his shirt downward as much as possible, well aware I was stretching it all to hell. He didn’t seem to have any complaints as I circled his nipple with the tip of my tongue. “Let’s just say I tried once and decided it was a dismal failure.”

“You don’t have to. I don’t expect—”

“Yes, I do. I expect. I want to taste you. I want you to know you’re the only man I’ve wanted to be with that way. Only you.” I licked my way up his throat to nip his chin, placing my hand on his heart to feel the steady thud that centered me so easily. “I love you, Bishop, and I’m going to keep saying it until you believe me.”

He shut his eyes. “What did I do to deserve you?” His voice was broken like glass and made a lump form in my throat.

I’d figured admitting it once would be scary, never mind twice. But it wasn’t. And I wasn’t going crazy because he hadn’t said it back yet.

He would. For the first time in my life, I just knew.

“Well, first of all, you went down on me for like twenty minutes that first night.” His eyes flew back open as I grinned, desperate to see him smile again. “That kind of sealed the deal.”

But his expression remained serious as he wound my hair behind my ear, his gaze searching mine. “I love you too, April. You know that, right? Please tell me you know.”

I smiled even through the gathering heat in my eyes. “I know. I think I knew right away. It’s why I had to run. No one ever had chosen me first, and I couldn’t bear to watch it end. It couldn’t last—”

“It will. I won’t change my mind. We’re just at the beginning. I love all of you I know today and the you I’ll learn more about tomorrow.”

He kissed me so gently that there was no holding back the tears. He didn’t shy away from them, kissing them too as they slipped down my cheeks.

“I believe you. With everything inside me, I’m believing in you, Bishop Stone.”

He drew me down on the sofa, rolling me beneath him so he could frame my head with his muscular arms. Then he just smiled down at me with every ounce of the naked emotion we’d both tried so hard to hide from each other.

No more mysteries.

He reached down to draw off my panties, grunting as he realized how damp they were already. Then he glanced up and narrowed his eyes, pointing with a handful of silk.

“You. Hit the road, pal.”

Santiago stood on the coffee table, blinking innocently.

I knew what was coming even before he opened his beak.

“Pussy!”

“Not for you. You know where to go.” He pointed down the hall off the living room and the bird danced from foot to foot. I was waiting for him to mutter under his breath. I wasn’t sure parrots were capable of that, but I had a feeling Santiago had his own rulebook.

Rather than flying away, he hopped down off the coffee table and, head held high, marched down the hall. Where he went, I couldn’t see, but I wasn’t altogether sure there wouldn’t be destruction in his wake.

Bishop shook his head, a smile playing around his mouth. “Sorry. He’s mostly well-behaved, so I try not to cage him more than I have to.”

“You’re a good daddy.”

“I will be.” His breath stuttered then he dropped my panties on the floor and bent to kiss me, filling his hands with my hair. “I can’t wait.”

It was insanity. So much of this was. But I’d never felt saner or more me in my life as I reached for his belt, yanking it free of its loops. He arched up to give me room to scoop him out of his boxers, to caress his hot, hard length while I teasingly drew on his tongue. He groaned and thrust into my fist, his movements chaotic and untamed already.

“I had a plan,” I breathed between kisses. “I’d start the traditional way. BJ, then sex.”

“Valid plan,” he breathed back.

“But I figure we’ve done stuff differently so let’s mix it up.”

I shoved his jeans and boxers down over his ass and thighs. He kicked them off along with his socks and sneakers. When I would’ve just pulled up my sundress, he shook his head and drew me up so he could tug it over my head. With a few flicks of his fingers, my bra went flying.

Instead of immediately pulling me down again, he commanded the lights to dim and shifted me until I faced the floor-to-ceiling windows. Beyond the glass, Downtown Kensington Square’s lights glittered along with the backdrop of nearby Syracuse. The glow reflected off the expanse of Crescent Lake just visible in the distance, and I gasped as if he’d just shown me the Eiffel Tower.

I didn’t need any of that. He’d given me the world even when it was just us two. The rest was just ambience.

He bit my earlobe, and I rolled my neck to give him more access as he nudged my hair over my other shoulder. His fingers skimmed over my breasts, tugging and twisting my sensitive nipples while moisture pooled between my thighs.

I couldn’t be embarrassed. He knew exactly how to touch me. Had from the start. Knew that when he dragged his fingers through my wetness and lifted them to my mouth that I’d need the nip of his teeth on my shoulder to encourage me. I sucked them in and he groaned into my hair, banding his arm around my stomach to pull me backward. He was sitting on his feet, so when he drew me back, his cock parted me. I flowed open around him, sliding down in one fluid move. He groaned again, pushing into me so deeply I had to pant through it for a long, trembling moment.

“Take me in, baby.”

I already was. Couldn’t do anything else.

Falling forward, I braced my hands on the arm of the sofa as he speared into me and retreated over and over again, the sounds erotic, filthy, and desperate. His dark shadow loomed over me in the glass, somehow just a little bit dangerous and that only turned up my desire. His grip on my ass wasn’t tender, but even as his hold bruised me, he was careful to avoid the fading bruises from earlier in the week. These he made on me would only bring pleasure, not pain.

He reached around me, aiming for where I needed pressure most. His thumb was an insistent force, making me drop my head to bite the couch to keep from screaming. He was relentless, his hips slapping mine, his thrusts so determined that he kept driving me up the sofa until I was draped over the arm and bracing my hands on the floor. I wasn’t even sure how I’d gotten there. It was just blinding speed and need and drowning bliss.

My body convulsed, twisting in on itself as I lifted my head. The lights blurred as sweat dripped into my eyes and I fought to memorize the shape of him hammering into me from behind. But I couldn’t focus, couldn’t see.

I was just his receptacle now in the very best way, taking him into me until there was no more space between us.

No more doubts.

I slickened his strokes with orgasm after orgasm, stretching on and on. He fisted his hand in my hair and one around my middle to pull me up so we were body to body, frantic shadows in the glass. He fastened his mouth on my neck, imprinting my skin with his shout of release. And still, he fucked me, his strong thighs forcing mine apart for his brutal thrusts.

The sharp ache of raw need finally ebbed into exhaustion. But I wasn’t done.

Not even close.

He rolled me into his arms, going into his usual spooning pose. I’d discovered this week he was all about the spoon, even if it didn’t last long. His cuddle game was strong until he got too hot, turning away and kicking off the covers. I was amazed he hadn’t kicked me one of these mornings yet.

But I didn’t let it get that far tonight. Not that there were covers on the sofa. Even the throw pillows were on the floor. Handy for what I had in mind.

I extricated myself from his hold, barely resisting rubbing my hands together. This would be fun.

His arm flailed out, eyes still closed. “Master bathroom’s at the end of the—whoa.”

I kneeled on the nearest pillow and carefully pried his shaft off his thigh. Even spent, he was half hard. Seemed like he always was. We’d made a mess, as usual, not that he cared much about cleaning up if he’d gone hard enough. Such a male.

Such a delicious tasty male, if my first testing lick was any indication.

“Babe, what’re you doing?”

“Tidying you up.” Before you make a mess of me…

“April.” His sleepy voice had an edge to it now. “You’re not—you don’t think—”

“I warned you.” I licked around the head, slowing down near the rim at his inward hiss of breath. “You’re going to have to help me get it right.”

“You’re off to a rip-roaring start. I don’t want to deter you but recovery time—I’m young but not that young.”

A giggle bubbled out of me. “You managed it the other day.”

“Right, but you can’t expect every time—Christ, how did you learn to do that?”

“Porn.” I squeezed my eyes shut and slid him into my mouth, our combined flavors and scents making me take too much too fast. I started to choke and then realized his eyes were on the verge of rolling back into his head.

Messy. Tears. Choking. Possible death by cock. Keep going.

I moved my hand up and down fast and hard like I’d seen, gauging the speed and pressure by his uneven breaths. Curiosity had me reaching beneath to feather my fingertips over his sac, judging he liked it by his unintelligible curses. His cock pulsed in my grip, one quick throb, and the vein along the side seemed even more pronounced as I sucked him up to my tolerance level. He threaded his fingers into my hair, his gaze riveted on my lips as they spread around him and I tasted a quick hit of salt in my throat. It wasn’t an ice cream sundae, but his canting hips and bunched thighs might as well have been the hot fudge.

From ‘I’m not sure I can get it up again’ to full body shudders in under five.

Good job, Finley.

At least I thought it was under five. Hard to tell from my current discomfort level. My jaw ached fiercely. My lover was built.

My love.

“Dammit, April, how? How do you do this to me?”

I might’ve tried to answer if my mouth hadn’t been full of him.

“God, baby, you’re so beautiful.” His gasps between words made me press my drenched thighs together. “Look at you…taking me like a fucking champ. Get up here so I can fuck you…again.”

I ignored him and kept pumping and sucking and squeezing and licking.

All I wanted was for him to blow.

When I sensed he was close, I clamped my fingers in a vise around the base of him to stave it off. The sound he made was pure agony.

“Do that again and I’ll drag that pussy over my mouth and make you scream.”

I yanked my head up to breathe, razoring my teeth over his lower belly before I dove down again. Fighting against a laugh and a moan as he reached down to spank my ass.

“I’ll pay you back,” he promised darkly as I deliberated bounced my ass in time with my ministrations on his cock.

He fisted my hair. “I can’t hold on. Fuck, I won’t. If you want this—”He broke off as our gazes locked electrically in the darkness.

God, I wanted it. So much that I couldn’t stop rocking my hips, crazed all over again to be filled.

Fingers, tongue, or cock, I wasn’t choosy.

Somehow I managed to pull him free just as he erupted, dousing my lips and chin and breasts before I swallowed him down to get every last drop. But he yanked me off before I was finished and pulled me right up to where he wanted me, just as he’d said would.

I balanced on one leg while he tongued my pussy and I gripped the arm of the sofa so I didn’t fall over. The pose was awkward and I was shaking too hard to keep upright, but it didn’t matter. A few flicks of his fingers against my clit as he buried his face against me, and I threw back my head, digging my nails into his scalp as I soaked his lips and chin.

I screamed. I begged for Jesus. I said things I’d regret if I even knew if they were English.

Then I lifted my leg off the couch and half slid, half collapsed on the probably priceless carpet. At least he probably had a maid.

And hopefully soundproofing…

When I opened my eyes the next time, I expected a tiny pair of yellow eyes to be peering back. I’d landed right beside the coffee table, the perfect height for Santiago.

Instead, I was looking at my own arm. I’d blinked out with it over my face.

Before I could move it, the honors were done for me. Bishop was grinning down at me, looking positively overjoyed at himself and the state of the world.

“Do I know you?”

“Pretty sure I’m the dude who made you come so hard you blacked out.”

“That’s not a thing.” I sat up and rubbed my damp cheek. Yeah, I needed a shower immediately. “Is that a thing?”

“Think so, since it just happened.”

“Do you have a bathtub?”

“I sure do. A nice big one with jets.”

I lifted up my arms like a sex-drunk concubine. “Can you carry me? Possibly forever?”

He lifted me with that baffling strength of his and pressed his face into my hair as I looped my arms around his neck. “If only you’d let me, April mine.”