Page 14 of Brutal Mercy

Her advent into my world will serve a purpose on multiple levels. And I’m enough of an asshole not to care whether it’s something she wants.

Chapter five

Luna

Consciousnessreturnsinslowstages.

My eyelids flutter as I swim up from my drug-induced slumber. I blink. My surroundings take shape. A sliver of light filters in through heavy blackout curtains, illuminating the room enough that I can see my surroundings.

I’m snuggled against a man. My head rests against his extremely fit and naked male chest. His pecs are a sculpted masterpiece. I know whose chest it is before I see his face. Because I can smell him. It’s the man who saved me. And his chest is the stuff of fantasies. He’s older, but his body is positively shredded. My left hand rests against his toned abdomen, and I lightly drag my index finger over the defined lines, wishing I could explore his body like my own personal amusement park. Jesus Christ, he has a damn six-pack. Shifting slowly, I glance up, trying not to disturb him, and look at his face.

Hades.

Sleep doesn’t diminish the hard angles of his face. But I like studying him without the magnetic intensity of his ice-blue gaze. The way he looked at me unnerved me, and the memory is churning me up inside in a way no other man ever has until I’m pulsing, aching for the sinful promise I saw in his eyes. The lines around his eyes are softened in sleep, and he’s got a day’s worth of stubble lining his jaw.

And boy, do I want to trail my fingers over his face. I shiver because I wouldn’t stop there. My fingers itch to explore him. In sleep, his lips appear soft and kissable. The urge to lean in and trace them with my tongue, sucking on that fuller bottom lip, is almost overwhelming. Although I’d wager that I have a terrible case of morning breath since I didn’t brush my teeth before the painkiller knocked me out.

I’m cuddled against him as if we’re lovers, which is crossing all the wires in my body. Everywhere we touch, my body freaking sizzles. His thickly muscled arm is curled around my waist, holding me tight against him.

And I’ve never felt so safe in my life.

Which is crazy. Insane. Makes me certifiable. Because I don’t know him. We literally met hours ago.

Yet I crave him. And it thrills a secret part of me that he’s holding me, even for something as benign as sleep. What would it be like to be with a man like Hades, to be loved by him?

There’s no question that I desire him. Fiercely. I yearn to believe a man like him—handsome, sophisticated, and confident—could want me. And the way he holds me as if I am precious to him makes me never want to wake him and break this spell. If I could, I would stay this way with him and ignore my responsibilities. Tune out the rest of the world and pretend we’re a real couple. And that I finally have someone I could lean on when my world gets too heavy to carry.

I sigh, my breath fanning against his pec. It’s doubtful a man like him would want someone like me. Because I’m just a local girl who has never really been anywhere. I’m not sophisticated. My wardrobe consists of clothing I’ve owned since I was fifteen and items I’ve snatched up at local thrift shops. When my parents died, I had to withdraw my application from college.

Embarrassment rises in me.

And I squirm, pressing my thighs together because I need to pee. That’s what woke me, my full bladder. I need to pee so badly my eyeballs are floating. And I have no idea what time it is, but I’m famished.

But instead of moving, I try to figure a way out of his arms that doesn’t involve waking him. Except as more of the drug-induced fog lifts, it hits me, and I gasp. “Lyla.”

And I try to bolt upright out of his arms. I have to get home. She must be frantic. What time is it? God, how could I be so stupid?

But his arm tightens about my waist, and he murmurs, “You’re safe,mi dea luna.”

“No, it’s—” I glance back up at him. “My sister. She’s likely worried sick. I need to go get her.”

“Sister?” He arches an interested brow, appearing in no hurry to release me. Like he’s enjoying holding me against his side as much as I like being held by him. But that can’t be right. And I can’t focus on that anyway.

“Yes, Lyla. She’s only seventeen. I’m her guardian. What time is it? I need to get ahold of her. What if Diego went back to the store or our house? It’s right up the road from the store. And most people know it’s our house.”

“My brother retrieved your purse and phone from the store.” He’s relaxed as he studies me with half-lidded eyes.

“You did. How? When? Why?” I don’t understand why he would go to the effort. Or why he is helping me. And why he’s in bed with me.

“I sent some of my men to check out your store. They found your purse in the office and phone behind the register.” He helps me into a sitting position, then reaches an arm over to his nightstand and grabs my phone for me.

And I gawk at the way his muscles flex. His body screams sex appeal. I’d bet a night with a man like him would be a religious experience. A low burn fills my belly, and my sex pulses.

He catches me ogling him, and I flush. He trails his eyes down my body, and everywhere his gaze touches heats to the surface temperature of the sun. I’m still wearing the hospital gown. But my body responds like it did yesterday when he found me on the floor in only my panties. He regards me with pulse-pounding lust warming those icy blue eyes. My panties instantly go damp.

Stop it. Stop lusting after the dude that saved your ass and just take the damn phone from him.

Focus. Contact Lyla and make sure she’s all right. Once I know she’s fine, I can be an idiot and throw myself at him if I want.

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