Page 33 of Begging for Mercy
I wince. “I wish I were.”
She turns around and walks back to her bedroom. I don’t know why, but I follow her. A thread of anxiety wraps around my lungs. “Are you… okay?”
A tiny laugh passes her lips. “I don’t know how to answer that.”
“I guess that’s fair.” After an awkward silence, I clear my throat. “So, I’m gonna go.”
Spinning around, she grabs my arm. “Hey, wait, I need to ask you something. It’s, um…” Mercy lets go of me and crosses her arms. “It feels really stupid now, but uhh, do you want to… go out with me?”
I stare blankly at her. “What?”
Her blush never really disappeared, but it comes back in full force. “Sam and I are going on a date later this week, and I wanted to invite you and Reaper.”
You havegotto be shitting me.
“You’re asking me to go on a double-date with my brother?”
She clasps and unclasps her hands together repeatedly. “Um, well, you’re not really related, right?” Laughing awkwardly, she continues, “It doesn’t have to be romantic. We just wanted to ask you guys some questions?—”
“No.” I shut her down before she can run with the idea. “I’m not going on a fucking date.” Kane will be obsessing over Mercy the entire time, leaving me as the third—fourth?—wheel. “If you have something to say, say it. Don’t be all—” I wave my hand in front of her. “Cute about it.”
“I’m not trying to be cute!”
“That’s not—” I pinch the bridge of my nose. That’s not what I meant. “I’m not going on a date with you, Mercy. Not even a platonic one. You—” I grab her chin. “—are a means to an end.” Tilting her head back, I stare at the hickey on her neck. I stilldon’t know if Kane or Sam left it there. Brushing my thumb over the mark, I hum in the back of my throat. So what, if it was Kane? He clearly didn’t fuck her, or she wouldn’t even be here right now. She’d be locked up in the studio until he filled every one of her holes.
Mercy doesn’t even flinch. “What does that mean?”
A smile curves on my lips. “That’s for me to know, Kitten, and for you to never find out.”
Chapter 12
Mercy
Over the next few days,my life goes back to normal. Sam is too busy to hang out, citing football practice for the upcoming championship game, and Kane doesn’t attend class again. If I’m lucky, he’ll stay away for good, but I have a feeling that his absence is only temporary. Zane also keeps his distance, disappearing into thin air after our last meeting.
It’s like I’m boy-free again.
I should be happy. No more imminent threat of death or orgasms or anything else remotely dramatic. I’m back to being regular old Mercy Morningstar, college senior without any friends.
So why does it feel like my chest is filled with lead?
When I text Sam, his replies are short and to the point. He insists that yes, we’re still on for our date Friday night, but he can’t come over before then. I don’t have a way to contact Kane or Zane, but I keep looking for one of them to appear from around every corner.
I’m disappointed every time I expect one of them to show up.
The worst part is that when I toss and turn at night, my body’s on fire from the inside. I’m used to having trouble sleeping. It’s why I’ve invested in my lavender essential oils anda sleep mask. They don’t always work, but I like to pretend that they do. Even still, when sleep evades me, I usually sketch or paint or sit outside on the front porch to watch the stars sparkle in the night sky.
Lately, all I’ve wanted is for someone to touch me again.
Who it is doesn’t seem to matter. My mind flits between Sam’s guttural groan as he comes to Reaper’s massive cock in his hand, and worst of all, Zane has slipped into my fever dreams, his voice rasping in my ear as he tells me what a dirty little virgin I am. I throw my bedsheets off and hook my thumbs into the waistband of my panties, nervous to take them off. The cool breeze flowing through the open window makes me shiver, but it does nothing to satiate the raw need burning through my system.
I glance at the window, remembering how Zane broke in before. He could do it again. I guess any one of them could if they really wanted to. Zane tore Sam’s old baseball bat out of my hands before I could even take a swing. It’s not like I could fight any of them off.
But would I even want to?
Clenching my fists, I toss my head back onto my pillow. I don’t know what I want anymore. The lack of sleep and inability to talk to anyone is driving me insane. What are they doing? Is Kane still mad at me for what happened in the cemetery? Is Sam having second thoughts about our date? Does Zane regret touching me?
The thought of Zane sends another wave of heat through my body, and I can’t take it anymore. Pulling my panties down my legs, I flatten my heels on the bed and slowly slide my hands down my stomach. I don’t touch myself that often. Something about it doesn’t feel right, like I’m doing it wrong. It feels good up until a point, and then it’s like… there’s a block in my brain,or there’s too much pressure down there, or I feel like I have to pee. None of which makes me feel like a goddess of her sexuality.
