Page 22 of Going Down Smooth: Part One

“Let your employees see you, Mercy. You are no better than they are. You need to show them you are present at all times. I know I don’t have to come down here. I have people to do this job. Do you know why I come down here and work amongst them?” he asks, over his shoulder as we continue to move down the line of barrels. This row in particular has been marked for finishing, the matured bourbon will eventually be transferred to second barrels to mature further, creating Smooth Bourbon’s special blend. The recipe is a guarded secret, locked away in my father’s safe in his office back home.

“Because you like to micromanage.” I laugh at my answer, knowing it is the wrong answer but loving the way my father turns to smirk at me, his lips pursed in mock disapproval.

“Mercy Anisa Smooth, I don’t micromanage.” He quirks his eyebrow, making me laugh harder. I bend forward, hands braced on my knees, but as I go to stand a wave of nausea hits me, making me sway on my feet. I catch myself, my free hand landing on a barrel of carefully aged bourbon. I swallow, my throat suddenly dry, my clothes cling to me from the heat in the room which was making me sweat. I straighten, but my father hadn’t noticed, his attention is back on the barrels.

I blow out my breath, wondering if I’m getting sick. I groan internally. Ugh, that’s the last thing I need. I know my mother won’t let me leave the house for days if I am, and I don’t want to miss my afternoons here in the Distillery.

“I come down here and work with my people so I can always remain humble. Remember that no matter how high up the ladder you are, you can always fall. We all have one foot on the poverty line, Mercy. Do you understand what I mean?” He looks over his shoulder and I nod. I get it. It’s why I wanted to work my way up like everyone else. I let his words return me back to what started this conversation.

“So, Master Distiller. Why not? I can do this job, Dad,” I ask in exasperation. I know the ins and outs of almost every job here. I know I still have to go to college, but why can’t I work on the distillery floor and work my way up? It’s only fair. I want the employees of this company to respect me because I got my hands calloused and dirty like they did.

“I know, baby, but you are destined for more. You can easily make Knight or Lox your Master Distillers; they know the job as well as you do,” my father says as he turns with a smile on his face. “You know you will love bossing those boys around. You have plenty of experience at it already.” I turn away shyly, and he laughs knowingly.

My relationship with my four best friends, now Alphas, is complicated. They are my secret pack. I can’t tell my father that, though. I can’t claim them as mine, not without a designation. Can I?

I reach up and wipe the sweat from my brow again, my face feels flushed, my stomach queasy as my father continues on through the building. He stops and speaks to the various managers and workers, patting backs and listening earnestly to any of their needs and concerns. My father is great at what he does, and I love to watch him work. I remain at his side, quiet, which is usually not the case for me, but something is clearly wrong with me today. It is taking all my strength to remain on my feet and not puke up my guts.

Finally, we reach the exit and I let out a relieved breath, at last, now I can get home and lay down. I can just hear my mother making a fuss over this now.

“Listen, don’t worry about choosing a job. You don’t need to. I think we already know whose job you’re going to take over when the time comes. I know you think the people here won’t look at you the same way if it’s given easily, Mercy. I can see the wheels turning in that head of yours. Everyone here has seen you work alongside me since you were six, my little shadow. They will follow you when the time comes. All you need to worry about is—"

I sway on my feet again. My eyes blur and my vision doubles as twin images of my father peers at me with concern, then shock as I collapse at his feet. The water bottle I wanted to put in the recycling trash falls from my hands and the world begins to spin.

“I got you, baby girl.” My father bends down and scoops me up in his arms. My head hangs limply against his chest.I am so hot. Why am I so hot?I feel wrong, my insides are churning, pain and cramping grip me. I fear I’m dying.

“What’s wrong with me?” I ask my father, barely able to speak. I close my eyes and when I open them again, my body jostles as my father runs with me held tightly to his chest. I groan, my body on fire inside and out. Had I passed out? For how long?

“Mercy, there you are sweetheart,” my father says, his face sporting a frown as he notices my eyes blinking open. He opens the front door of his SUV and gently places me in the front seat. Leaning over me to buckle my seatbelt, he sniffs the air.

“Shit,” I hear him say before he leans up and cups my face with his hand.

“Mercy, listen to me baby. I think you’re beginning to present. I need to get you home. Your scent is changing and—"

“What!?” I shriek weakly, curling in on myself as more pain shoots through me. “What do you smell, Dad?” I ask softly, but instinctively, deep down, I already know. My heart sinks before his face turns down in sadness.

“You smell like an Omega, Mercy,” he says, knowing I would rather be anything but that. He offers me a soft smile, stroking my cheek reassuringly, but I don’t feel reassured. I feel helpless and sad, so sad. “I need to get you home. You shouldn’t be in physical pain, though, baby girl. Maybe it’s because this happened later than it should have. This is not a normal transition, and we need to call the doctors.” My father straightens, then closes the door, rushing to the driver’s side of the car. If I didn’t hurt so bad, I would open the door and run for my life. I want to scream and rage. Why? Why couldn’t I be a beta? Or what they all thought I would be, an Alpha. My father speeds out of the parking lot, and as I take one last look at the Distillery, I already accept the fact I probably won’t be allowed back here.

In only a few short minutes, my life, my dreams, my choices, are all gone.

FOURTEEN

NATE

“Fuck Nate.” Mercy sucks in a breath between her teeth, making a hissing sound that goes straight to my rock-hard cock. I press myself flat against the bed to ease the pressure before I cum prematurely, sinking my tongue into her deep sweet heat like it’s the essence of life itself. Mercy moans long and loud, arching her back off the bed, bucking into my mouth and I ride the wave. I lick and slurp, tasting her, my name echoes around the room like the sweetest of symphonies.

“I swear I didn’t intend for you to eat me for breakfast when you came in here this morning,” she says breathlessly. “Oh shit!” she shouts, spurring me on.

Not true, beautiful.It has been three days since our declaration of love and submission to the woman in this bed. Since then, we insisted she took our pack bedroom as her own. It’s hers. Even when I didn’t know she would come back to us, although I’d hoped, it was Mercy’s room. I designed this entire house with her in mind. Yeah, I considered my brothers’ tastes as well, but this was all for her.

I flick my tongue rapidly over her clit before I enclose my lips around her sensitive flesh, sucking hard. Mercy’s slick coats my face as she screams. I groan, savoring her juices on my tongue; I can’t get enough. I will make it my personal mission to make this my new wakeup call if she lets me. The best part of waking up is not coffee. It’s my face buried between Mercy’s thighs.

“I’m cumming, Nate. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” she chants, and I smile into her pussy, lapping up the sweet taste of peaches and cream, wondering if I can patent the taste of her to go on my morning pancakes.

I really did intend to make her breakfast this morning. Scouts fucking honor. I promise my intentions were good. But as soon as I walked into the room, there she was in the middle of this massive bed, naked and waiting. It could have been any one of us, but it was me who got this unexpected reward.

We were all giving her time to adjust to us again, giving her space and keeping our hands to ourselves. Considering her heat finally broke days ago, I think we all needed the break to process the big change in all our lives. Everything will be different now that we are a complete pack. I did what I do best. I threw myself into building her a proper nest. Yes, I know she is not like most Omegas, but I can’t help my instincts, they run deep. She may only use it for her heat, but at least she will have it. Plus, Lox, Trey, and Knight went to the bar this morning to prepare for tonight’s opening, leaving me with our beautiful Omega. I am the lucky one.

“I need. . .I need. . .” Mercy pants, grabbing my face, my arms, any part of me to gain purchase in order to pull me on top of her. I take one last lick of her gorgeous pussy, making her moan so beautifully.

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