Page 156 of Endgame

And he was mine.

Rourke

I WAS BALLS DEEP inside my girlfriend, taking her rough and hard and exactly how she asked me to take her when she woke me up for morning sex. Six was screaming and clawing at my body as I pumped inside her, and I was loving every one of her hot, little moans and cries.

“Do you want me, Rourke?” Six breathed, spreading herself open and tilting her hips upwards for me to take her deeper.

Was she serious?

Was she honest to god asking me this question?

Goddamn.

“I was afraid before; of you…of the feelings I have for you,” I admitted, not breaking my rhythm. “It scared me.Youscare me, but I’m done running from it. I’m done pushing you away because I fucking love you, Six.”

“I love you, too, Rourke,” Six cried out as she trailed her fingers up and down my chest. Her touch was so delicate in that moment, and the loving way she paid attention to my abs made it hard for me to breathe. I closed my eyes, reveling in the feel of her touch.

She paid so much attention to every detail of my body. Like she was putting it to memory. It made my chest squeeze so damn tight, it was hard to breathe. “I’m keeping you,” my words a promised grunt as her pussy sucked me in tighter. “You’re mine now, Six…”

“Rourke, I’m close,” she cried out, trembling beneath me. “I’m so…”

The door of our hotel room flew open then, a woman’s loud shriek piercing through the air, and we both froze.

“Cassidy?” My father’s voice filled the room. “Don’t panic, darling, but I think we may have a situation here.”

Six looked up at me with wide eyes and mouthed the words “Oh shit!”

Meanwhile, I grimaced and bit back a frustrated groan.

Oh shit was right.

We were so busted.

Mercedes - Four Years Later

“It’s your father,” I called out. “He’s facetiming your computer again.”

I heard the familiar groan come from just inside our ensuite bathroom. “Tell him I’m in class.”

“And leave me to talk to them on my own?” I threw my head back and laughed. “Not a chance.”

“Six,” Rourke called out in a warning tone. “Don’t make me talk to that man.”

“Too late,” I chimed, clicking the accept button Rourke’s MacBook. “Gabe, how are you doing?”

“Oh, Mercedes, it’s you,” Rourke’s father replied.

“It’s me,” I agreed with a nod. “What can I do for you?”

“Is my son there?”

“He sure is,” I chuckled. “Let me just get him for you.” Rolling off the bed, I padded into the adjoining bathroom and leaned against the doorframe. “You can’t hide in here forever you know,” I said with a knowing grin. “If you don’t talk to him, he’ll take a trip out here and you remember what happened last time, don’t you?”

“Don’t remind me,” Rourke muttered sullenly, appearing in the doorway.

I grinned and reminded him anyway. “He brought the girls.”

Like I knew he would, Rourke shuddered at the memory of our twin sisters trashing our tiny one bedroom apartment.

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