“You can keep on hating your dad later. Just dance with me.”

He got up, and she knew he was playing along, acting all reluctant, but she didn’t allow his mood to sway her. She was in a really good one herself.

Grabbing his arms, she pulled him close, grabbing his hips and matching to the beat of the song. The pulse and energy ran through her veins, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

Giving him a little twirl, she put his hands on her hips, and they danced around the house. After a short time, Bishop stopped being a moody guy and got right back into it.

One song played into another before he finally captured her wrists, pressing her up against the wall. They were both panting for breath, but she’d had fun and didn’t want it to end.

Bishop slammed his lips down on hers.

She didn’t fight him.

This was the first kiss they’d shared since the day he’d taken her and his dad had been pissed. In fact, they’d hung out, but nothing had really happened between them. He pressed his body against hers. She felt the hardness of his cock against her.

“I want you so badly.” He let go of her hands, running them down her body, moaning as he ground his cock against her.

She cupped his face, kissing him back.

When he gripped her ass, pulling her back from the wall, he collapsed onto the sofa, and she followed him down.

She wore jeans, and even as he started to hump against her crotch, she didn’t feel it, but kissed him.

The kisses were nice, and as he grabbed her ass again, she saw no reason to calm him down just yet.

He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down her neck. He started to unbutton her shirt, and it was going a little too fast.

Pulling away, she smiled and pushed his hands back.

“For fuck’s sake, Robin. Don’t you want to feel me inside you? It’ll hurt the first time, but after that, it’ll be all good. I promise.” He rested his hands on her thighs.

“I’m not ready.”

“You’re such a fucking cock-tease. You know there are thousands of chicks who’ll love my dick.”

“Then go to them,” she said.

The music turned off, and they both jumped to see Preacher in the room.

“I don’t appreciate teenage pregnancy happening in my front room.” He held a large brown shopping bag.

“Dad, what are you doing here?”

“I’m going to cook. Your shirt isn’t buttoned right, Robin.”

She looked down at her shirt and felt her face heat.

Bishop got up, and seeing as she was still on his lap, she landed on her ass, knocking her arm up as she did so.

She winced, but he didn’t stick around.

“I don’t want you fucking that girl in my house,” Preacher said.

“We weren’t doing anything. She’s too frigid to do anything.”

Did Bishop even realize his voice carried? She could hear every single word he said, and it wasn’t exactly nice what he was saying.