Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
Bishop
I ’d never slept so well, and I knew it was because I had Korrie in my bed. In my arms.
After worshipping her body and feeling mind-numbing pleasure with her, I curled my arms around her, sheltering her body with mine, and fell asleep nearly instantly.
I was blessedly drunk off contentment and feeling like the world was right and perfect because I finally had Korrie.
As I slowly blinked my eyes open, the room still dark but the promise of the morning sun hinting through the curtains, I knew instantly she was gone. I felt that hollowness, that coldness wash over me.
I reached out, my eyes still groggy and blurry from sleep, and smoothed my palm over the sheets where she’d been.
Empty.
The bed was cool to the touch, the feeling of her not being here with me causing this unexplainable heavy panic to settle within me. I bolted upright and looked around, listening, hearing nothing but the house settling and early morning sounds of the city starting to wake up coming from outside.
Scrubbing a hand over my jaw, I felt scruff covering my cheeks. I was hungover, but the good kind because you’d fucked so well, claimed so hard you were drained dry. I’d never before felt like this and knew I never would again. Korrie was the key to this feeling.
I tossed the blankets back and stood, seeing her clothes were gone, her purse missing. She left. No note. No goodbye.
Maybe a less pathetic man, a less obsessed one, would have taken that as a hint. Not me. I’d already fallen for her, and I wasn’t letting her get away that easily.
I snatched up my cell phone and called her number, unsure exactly when she’d left, but it couldn’t have been too long ago. We’d been together for hours before falling asleep, making love— fucking —and still the sun hadn’t risen yet.
I could’ve just missed her.
Fuck, my heart was pounding as I listened to her phone ring before clicking over to voice mail. I didn’t know why I was so panicked, but it was like these claws stuck in my gut, shredding it, telling me if I didn’t go to her and make her see that we were meant to be together—that she was meant to be mine—I’d never be happy.
But the way she’d touched me, moaned for me, the way she’d writhed under me and called out my name in ecstasy told me that she had been in the moment with me, that there was no doubt she felt the same possessiveness for me that I did for her.
I know that in my heart. It has to be true. I can’t be the only one losing my mind to these feelings.
I tried calling her again, and once more. No answer. I sent off some texts, asking if she was okay, why she’d left, telling her I was coming over.
I tossed the cell on the bed and shoved my legs into a pair of jeans. The T-shirt was next, then socks before putting on my boots. I grabbed my phone and headed out the door with my car keys in hand. I didn’t care what time it was. If nothing else, I needed to know she’d gotten home okay.
Maybe this was crossing lines, just showing up unannounced at her house when she left, clearly not wanting me to know she was going.
Yeah, it is bordering on stalker-ish, but she needs to know I won’t let her go.
God, that pushed me even deeper into stalker territory.
But I was frantic with the need to go to her, to make her see there was nothing more perfect in this world than the two of us together.