Page 43 of Begging for Mercy
Mercy’s the only one out of the loop. “What video feed?”
“The one that Zane set up in your bedroom.” He not-so-subtly adjusts his growing hard-on. “It’s how I knew you were fingering that needy pussy last night.” Licking his lips, his gaze travels down her body. “Does she still need attention?”
She flushes bright pink and averts her gaze.
What the hell did I miss last night?
“Take me to dinner,” she says after a moment, “and we’ll discuss who’s having dessert.”
Kane’s eyes flash dangerously. “Yes, ma’am.”
“But I want Zane to drive me.”
The grin on Kane’s face disappears. “Don’t play with my heart, Siren, or you’ll have to pick up the pieces when it breaks.”
Biting her lip, Mercy glances at Kane’s motorcycle. “I’m, um, scared to ride one of those.”
“All the more reason to give her a spin.” Kane picks up the discarded helmet and moves to put it on Mercy’s head, but before he can succeed, I grab her hand and pull her into my side. The way Kane’s face falls cracks my heart into pieces.
“Can’t ruin her hair and makeup before we’ve had a chance to enjoy it,” I explain lamely, wrapping my arm around her waist. “I’ll take her to Lucio’s. Meet us there?”
Kane glances between the two of us before stiffly nodding. “Fine. But when dinner’s over, she’s riding with me.” Stepping into our personal space, he places his left hand directly over mine on Mercy’s waist and the other on my hip. He pecks her cheek before turning his face towards mine and doing the same, tenderly pressing his lips against my cheekbone. Warmth radiates from that simple point of contact, and when Kane pulls back, I know that I’m blushing just as much as Mercy is.
Shit.
Why the hell would he do that?
He meets my eyes for the briefest moment before turning and walking back to his motorcycle. Once he’s slung his leg over the side and adjusted the kickstand, he revs the engine and speeds back up the driveway, tearing a rut into the gravel.
Mercy drops the act as soon as Kane’s out of sight, and we separate immediately. “Where’s your car?”
“I’m not going on a date with you,” I growl, feeling frustrated and confused and?—
“You don’t have a choice.” She swings her arm out towards the road. “Kane’s going to be waiting for us. Do you really want to stand him up?”
“Why the hell are you insisting on this fucking date?” Regardless of the reason—even if itissimply picking our brains like she claims—it’s a waste of fucking time. Glaring at her, I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not dressed for dinner at Lucio’s. I won’t make it through the door.” The cobwebs and dust sticking to my sweatpants sure don’t screamfine dining.
Rolling her eyes, she grabs my wrist and drags me inside her house and across the main floor to her father’s closet. His clothes are vintage and well-loved, but we manage to find a dress shirt that’s only a few sizes too large and a pair of slacks that I don’t have to suck my gut in to fit. “There. Now you’re dressed.”
I curl my lip in the bathroom mirror. “I look like a goddamn renaissance man.” Now that the shirt is buttoned, I realize the sleeves have ruffled cuffs. Un-fucking-believable. While I tear off the frill with my bare hands, Mercy steals a pair of her father’s shoes and sets them down in front of me.
“Hurry up.”
I don’t know why, but her tone pisses me off.
Grabbing her hair as she tries to walk away, I pull her into my arms, spinning us until we’re both facing the mirror. Her makeup is flawless, but her dark locks fan out across her face and catch on her scarlet lips. The dress cuts over her knees and hugs her body like a glove, accentuating her curves.
She’s pretty when she dresses up, I’ll give her that.
I brush the hair from her eyes and open my mouth, but a door behind us slams. I cover her mouth and listen as heavy footsteps pound up the stairs, lingering for only a moment before they storm back down and out the front door. “Expecting company?” Our eyes meet in the mirror, and she tries to wiggle free. Holding her tighter against my chest, Itsk-tsk. “You weren’t waiting for Kane, were you?”
Part of me thought that they had set this up to force me on a date with them, but Kane seemed surprised to see me. He would have carried Mercy off like a caveman claiming his mate. I bet he’d intended to rut her into the dirt, too, on a cliff somewhere or against the rough bark of an evergreen, ripping her dress from her body in his haste to get inside of her.
He might pretend to be a gentleman, but when his patience has worn out and a target’s time is up, he turns into an untamed beast. Scaring them. Fucking them. Making them scream themselves hoarse. “You’re lucky I stopped him from taking you,” I tell Mercy, speaking honestly. “If he gets his claws in you—” I drag my fingernails across Mercy’s throat, enjoying the wayshe flinches. Red scratch marks slice across her porcelain throat. “You’ll be begging him to stop.”
Mercy glares at me and opens her mouth.
I prepare myself for her muffled screams.
