After he took out a condom, he tore into the wrapper. In the dim light, I watched as he slid it down his length. He shoved his jeans down his thighs to where they pooled around his ankles. Turning me around, Bishop pushed me into the fence. He took my arms and put them over my head. My fingers clutched the chain links.

“Hold on tight, babe,” he murmured into my ear. One hand gripped my waist while the other went to guide his cock into me. Since I was more than ready for him, he entered me with one harsh thrust that filled me up completely. I cried out as Bishop grunted. With both hands now gripping my waist, he set up a punishing rhythm. The air around us was filled with the sounds of our moans and heavy breathing, along with sweat-soaked skin slapping together.

One of his hands left my waist to roam my body. It cupped my breast, tweaking the hardened nipple, along with stroking my clit as he continued pounding in and out of me. I couldn’t do anything but focus on the pleasure of what was probably the best sexual experience of my life.

I had never had three orgasms in one night, but Bishop delivered another blinding one. I could do nothing but cling to the fence as the shudders and spasms rolled through my body. I began to wonder if my trembling legs would keep me upright.

Bishop quickened his pace, his thrusts becoming even more harsh and unforgiving before I felt him tense up. His head fell forward, and he buried it in my neck. Hearing my name come off his lips as he jerked and twitched within me caused a pleasurable shiver to run up my spine.

His heavy breathing was warm against my skin. After picking his head up, he gently eased out of my body. For a few seconds, I still clung to the fence, trying to gain my bearings. There was a flurry of activity behind me as Bishop discarded the condom and then pulled up his jeans. Taking me by the shoulders, he slowly turned me around.

Without a word, he went about pulling up my panties and then straightening my dress. When he was finished, I gave him a sheepish grin. “Aren’t you the gentleman?”

He winked. “I try.”

Tilting my head, I couldn’t help voicing the question that was running through my head. “Is this when you say ‘Thanks, babe’ and send me on my way?”

Bishop’s brow crinkled in confusion. “Why would I do that?”

I shrugged. “Most men aren’t up for cuddling or pillow talk, and once they’ve gotten what they want or need, they’re done with you.” I bit my tongue to keep from saying, At least that’s what I’m used to. While I might’ve partly been using Bishop for the case, I still had to contend with the fact that I didn’t want to be used. There were also those feelings for him that ran deeper than I wanted to admit.

Crossing his arms across his chest, Bishop eyed me intently. “After a fuck like that, a man would have to be a dumb-ass to be done with you.”

His compliment sent heat both to my cheeks and between my legs. “It was pretty amazing,” I murmured.

“Just ‘pretty amazing’? I’ll have to try harder next time,” Bishop countered, a pleased twinkle in his eyes.

“I look forward to your efforts.”

Bishop laughed as he took my hand. “Come on.” Instead of leading us back to the party, he took us down the hill toward the houses.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s hot as hell, and I want to cool off.” He cut his eyes over to me. “You in the mood for a swim?”

“Sure. I didn’t realize you had a pool.”

With a grin, Bishop replied, “I don’t.”

“Then how—”

“You’ll see.”

He stopped at one of the houses on the left. Bishop dropped my hand to dig in his jeans pocket. “Is this yours?” I asked, unable to hide the surprise in my voice.

“Yeah.”

As I took in the modest but well-kept house, I thought about how often I continued to underestimate Bishop. My own MC prejudices caused me to underestimate him. “Twenty-five years old and you have your own house, a steady job, and a dream of owning your own bike shop.”

A smirk curved across his full lips. “Don’t forget that I’m also a master at fucking who generously gives ladies multiple orgasms.”

I snorted. “How could I forget?”

“Beats the hell out of me.”

“All joking aside, it is impressive, Bishop.”

His lighthearted expression became serious. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Thanks,” he murmured before ducking inside the house. I took a tentative step inside, since he hadn’t actually asked me to come in. I bit back a smile because the décor was exactly as I had imagined. Posters of half-naked women on the walls, leather furniture strewn with clothes, and beer cans littering the tables.

When I caught his eye, he said, “I do have one fault.”

“Your taste in decorating?”

He snickered. “That and I’m a fucking slob.”

I laughed. “Perfection can be annoying. Stay a slob.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a mock salute.

After grabbing two large flashlights off the mantel and then a blanket off the back of the couch, he paused, his expression growing serious. “I’m surprised you’re not pissed off and giving me shit about why I didn’t bring you here.” At what must’ve been my confused expression, he added, “You know, to fuck.”

“Oh,” I murmured. The truth was the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. When he’d said all the rooms at the clubhouse were full, I had believed him. Besides, considering that I was using him, I really didn’t have any room to be judgmental.