Bishop walked me backward until the counter was at my back, then placed his hands on either side of me and brought his lips languidly to mine. Our tongues tangled, slow and ardent. When he finally pulled away, he held a pair of scissors in his hand that had been left on the counter. I watch raptly as he slid the scissors from the bottom of my T-shirt to the top, cutting it wide open. His eyes gleamed deviously. “What do you think you’re doing?” I breathed. “Opening my housewarming present.” “That’s not how this works. My place, I should be the one unwrapping a gift.” Bishop’s answering grin was downright wicked. “Oh, you’ll get yours soon enough.” He swiftly spun me around and used the shirt remnant to secure my hands behind my back. When he brought me back around to face him, the scissors
