Bishop: A Dark MC Romance (The Devil's Riders Book 3)

Chapter 2

Fairview, Nevada

Evie

I drove through the gates of Cantiville Prison with butterflies in my stomach. It reminded me of my childhood when we used to visit my dad. And those memories weren’t good ones.

For the thousandth time, I wondered if I’d done the right thing by helping out my friend, Bobby. The older woman had been like a mother to me over the last five years. I wasn’t sure where I’d be without her. Probably living on the streets like my mom. So, when my friend needed surgery on her hip and asked me to finish the last two weeks of her volunteer stint at Cantiville Correctional, I’d quickly agreed. Right about now, I was regretting that decision.

I’d met Bobby when I’d been volunteering at our local dog shelter. I couldn’t have a dog at the time, but I craved being around them since I was a little girl. Thinking that I could be helpful and meet my own need for pet companionship at the same time, I signed up to clean the kennels and walk the dogs once a week.

Bobby shared my Tuesday shift at the shelter. Her kind nature and easy demeanor drew me right in. When I found out the older woman owned her own business, I was even more impressed. That’s when she’d offered me a job. Bobby taught me everything I knew about cooking. And when my friend decided to semi-retire, I took over that business and Bobby worked for me from time to time.

Parking in the staff lot, I gathered my purse and my courage and headed inside the gray gated walls. There were two guards at the front desk. The younger had a name tag that read Becker. The older gentleman, Garrity. When Becker saw me, he smiled, slowly looking me up and down.

“You here for an inmate visit, honey?” the younger guard asked, taking my I.D. and studying it for longer than seemed necessary.

I shook my head. “I’m here in place of Bobby Johnson. She runs the prisoner cooking program,” I explained. “She had hip surgery recently and needed me to finish off her last two weeks.”

“How’s Bobby feeling?” Garrity inquired, genuine concern on his smiling face.

“She’s in some pain,” I admitted, “but I stop by and visit her once a week to make sure she’s got whatever she needs. When she heals up, I’m sure she’ll want to start volunteering again. Bobby doesn’t stay idle for long.”

“Glad to hear it,” Garrity returned. “Bobby is a ray of sunshine around here and she’s been sorely missed.”

The older guard was cute. He had a full head of white hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a neatly trimmed beard. With his concern for Bobby, I wondered if my friend was holding out on me about a possible love connection with the man. I was going to have to ask her about that later.

Becker grinned even wider. “So, with Bobby gone, you’ll be hanging around Cantiville pretty regularly then?”

I tucked a loose strand of chestnut-colored hair nervously behind my ear. I’d plaited the thick mass into a French braid that trailed halfway down my back, but a few tendrils always seemed to escape no matter how I secured them. “I’ll be here for at least the next couple of weeks.”

“All right then,” Becker said, buzzing me through the door. “Come inside. I’ll show you around. The name’s John Becker,” he added casually. “If you need anything while at Cantiville, I’m your guy. I can get you whatever you want, honey.”

“Thanks,” I spoke sincerely. “That’s really helpful. I appreciate it.”

Once I passed through the door, I handed over my purse for Garrity to check over. I turned out my pockets into a plastic tray and Becker approached me with a hand-held wand. Awkwardly, I let the man slowly pass the metal detector down my blouse and jeans. Running it to the back of my rear, he paused over my ass for several seconds.

“Looks good,” Becker proclaimed with a wink.

I couldn’t help but think he was referring to more than just my weapon-free status.

Done with my belongings check, Garrity handed back my purse and I slung it over my shoulder and thanked him.

“Let me show you where the kitchen is so you can get set up,” Becker offered, placing his hand on my back to usher me forward.

Uncomfortable with the intimacy, I tactfully shifted away from the guard so he couldn’t keep touching me as we walked.

“These guys are animals,” Becker began, swinging his keys as he talked. “A good-looking girl like yourself is going to have to be vigilant while working with them.”

My fear doubled with his words. That was the last thing I needed to hear. I was already so nervous about the next two weeks, that I hadn’t been able to eat breakfast this morning.

My anxiety must have shown on my face because Becker picked up on it right away. “Don’t worry about it, Hun. I’m here to protect you. If any of the guys give you a hard time, I know how to put them back into line.”

The guard tapped his belt where a taser was strapped. I swallowed hard, not knowing how to respond to that.

“You got a man?” Becker pressed, turning to look me in the eye as he badged into what I presumed was the kitchen.

“Umm,” I stumbled, not sure what to say. “No,” I finally divulged, when I couldn’t think of how to answer him with anything other than the truth.

Becker smiled from ear to ear. “A good-looking girl like you, single? Why is that?”

Angry with myself that I hadn’t just lied, I attempted to do damage control now. “I work a lot and don’t really have time for anything but my business.”

“Single and you own your own business? My lucky day,” the man replied as he flicked on all the lights of the industrial kitchen.

Uncomfortable with compliments, I blushed heavily and tried to change the subject. “So, the inmates are allowed to use all of the machines and utensils in this space, right?”

Becker grinned when he realized I was shy and trying to ignore his come-on. “Yup. Everyone in this class has been cleared to work in the chow hall. Most of the prisoners you meet will be on their way out of Cantiville. They like to give these guys some life skills before they return to the real world.”

“That makes sense,” I said absently, checking out the state-of-the-art mixers and ovens the kitchen was equipped with. I wish I could afford this stuff. My business wasn’t nearly big enough to warrant the cost of such equipment though.

Becker snorted. “Wish it worked! These animals almost always return to the system. Losers, every one of them!”

While I shared his frustration with the recidivism rate in the penal system, especially as the daughter of a felon who never met a crime he didn’t like to commit, I was more than just a little put off by the man’s negative statement. After all, we’d only just met. And this was his job. Becker might not like it, but these men had done their time and deserved a chance at turning it around even if my father never could.

Ignoring this comment the way I had many of the others he’d directed at me today, I asked, “Are all my supplies in the fridge?”

Becker shrugged. “If you put it on the supply sheet, it should be stocked as you requested it.”

Opening the fridge, I spotted the trays of raw goods I’d ordered. For our first meal, I’d decided on fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, and homemade rolls. Some of the stuff I was going to have to prep on my own, as there wouldn’t be enough time in class to get it all done, but I’d wanted the guys to be able to have a nice meal on our first day together. For dessert, I’d ordered three flavors of ice cream to be served with cones. You couldn’t have a feast without dessert, right?

“It looks like it’s all here,” I confirmed, pulling some of the trays out so they could come to room temperature and popping open one of the chest freezers to find the ice cream.

Becker hovered as I began to prep for the class. “Seems like you’ve got enough here to feed an army.”

I’d ordered enough for double the amount of people. But I figured I’d rather be over-prepared than under. I said as much to my nosy escort, as he watched me organize the trays from the fridge.

“Those lucky bastards,” he groused. “They don’t deserve a pretty woman like you cooking them a homemade meal.”

The guard was really starting to get on my nerves with his negative attitude. Plus, I worked best when I was alone and could concentrate.

Thinking to rid myself of him, I tried a tactic that always worked for me in the past. Kindness. “I can make you a plate if you’d like? I’ll make one for Garrity, too. You can let him know that it’s Bobby’s recipe.” I figured I’d plug the good virtues of my friend in case she was interested in the distinguished guard.

Becker’s face lit up. “That’d be great.”

“I better get going then,” I prompted with a smile.

The man took the hint. “Sounds good. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks! I’ll drop off the food before I leave,” I promised him over my shoulder, bustling around the kitchen to get myself acquainted with the voluminous space.

* * *

Bishop

I didn’t want to go to the cooking class, but it was a condition of my early release. It wasn’t so bad though. Bobby, the woman running the program, was a pretty cool chick. Plus, we got to eat whatever we made. And after a steady diet of prison slop, that in itself was well worth my attendance.

Becker led the select group of six men from the yard into the kitchen. As I entered the wide-open space, I saw seven food stations spread out amongst the counters. There were measuring cups, bags of flour, and various other cooking supplies too. Then, I saw her.

She was facing the fridge, rummaging through the shelves for something or other, when she turned to greet us. And holy fucking shit, I nearly embarrassed myself by emitting a groan out loud when I saw her face. This gorgeous woman sure as shit wasn’t Bobby. But she was everything I was looking for in my next lay.

In her early twenties, she was a petite thing. Maybe only an inch or two above five feet. Her long brown hair was in a braid that started at the top of her head and landed halfway down her back. I bet if she took it down, it would nearly graze her world-class ass. I’d only gotten a quick glimpse, but I could tell I’d love to watch it bounce as I took her hard and fast from behind. Or maybe I’d take her leisurely. Let that juicy ass ride my cock lazily as I watched it spear her tight pussy. Fuck me! I liked that mental image. And so did my dick. It stood up at attention at the mere thought of getting inside this delectable woman.

She wasn’t a twig, either. She had a woman’s body through and through with a picture-perfect hourglass figure. A fact that, not having seen a female outside of the television for the last six months, I could really goddamn appreciate.

When she waved hello to all the men, who I was sure were thinking the exact thing I was, those big tits of hers jiggled the slightest bit and I inwardly growled. I’d give every last dime in my bank account for her to lift her top and let me titty-fuck her for just five minutes. If I even needed that long. As a thank you, I’d leave her the prettiest pearl necklace she’d ever seen all over those perky, firm globes of hers.

The innocent brunette had a tiny waist that flared into hips that I could grab ahold of as I took her for a ride. And big, mossy green eyes I could easily fall into and drown inside of for days at a time while lying around naked in bed.

“What the fuck you staring at, Wilmont?” Becker said with a sneer.

I had to shake my head to free myself from the stupor I was in. “I was just trying to figure out which station I should set up at,” I lied, fighting the urge to adjust the tent that had suddenly been pitched in my pants.

Jesus! I couldn’t wait to get back to my room and spank it later to the memory of this bitch. I’d never been so excited to masturbate before. However, with her as my inspiration, it was going to be Goddamn epic!

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it,” Becker returned unconvinced. “Just keep your drooling to a minimum, pretty boy. You’re here for the cooking lessons, nothing else.”

I think Pecker here had himself a crush. I couldn’t blame him. This woman was the finest piece of ass I’d seen in memory. I was a bit shocked to realize how angry that knowledge made me. Deciding it was because I hadn’t seen a real-life woman in months and my animal instincts were rising to the surface in response to being starved of sex for so long, I stuffed down the pesky emotion alongside my lust. Now was not the time, or the place, for those types of fantasies.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” the beautiful brunette greeted, as we all found an empty table to work at. “I’m Evelyn Wild, but you can call me Evie.”

Yes ma’am. I’d call her whatever she liked if she let me lick that sweet as-hell pussy of hers. Christ! I needed to stop thinking about her pussy. I wasn’t going to be able to focus if I was sporting wood this entire class. Discreetly, I used the table to adjust myself behind as I listened raptly to her melodious voice.

“Unfortunately, Bobby couldn’t be here today. But she asked me to step in for her while she’s away recovering from surgery.” Her pretty face flushed red with excitement as she brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear.

I’d love to make her blush like that. I knew it wouldn’t take much, either. Evie had the body for pleasure, and I knew how to give it. First, I’d spread those luscious thighs of hers, then I’d bury my head between them. Next, I’d tease her clit with my tongue. Nice and slow at first, then harder the more turned on she got. Make her really beg and work for it.

“In honor of this being my first day with you guys, I wanted to do something special for you.” Evie paused, a genuine smile gracing her full, pink lips. “We’re going to make an entire meal today. Not just a single component of one.”

Evie’s wide, mossy green eyes landed on me then and she paused. I stared back hard like a starving man does at a feast after a long famine. Fuck the food. This goddess was meal enough for me. The mental image of me spreading her out on the table, eating her out before bending her over and fucking her raw, made me stiffen painfully.

Ramirez, a slight Hispanic guy with a tight fade and wiry build, called out, “What are we making, Teach?”

I swear, she must have seen my filthy thoughts, because she swallowed hard, touched her flushed neck, and nervously tore her gaze from mine.

Clearing her throat, Evie pasted a smile back on her face and said, “Fried chicken with mashed potatoes, green beans, biscuits, and, for dessert,” she paused, her hands steepled together with childish glee, “I’m treating you guys to ice cream cones.”

I’d died and gone to heaven. This angel of a woman was checking every fucking turn-on box I had. Hot. Check. Curvy. Check. Sexy as fuck. Check, check. And she could cook? Jesus Christ! I was on hormonal overdrive.

Evie excitedly ran her palms together in anticipation of what was to come. “Is everyone ready to get started?”

Hell yeah. I knew I was.