Page 59 of Begging for Mercy
See u at home
Don’t cum without me
The whine that leaves my lips is as pathetic as I feel when I shove my dick back into my pants. Telling me not to come without him is ridiculous, but what’s worse is that I actually listen! I pull my knees up and light another cigarette, glaring at the waves rolling across the shore. “That’s fucked up,” I tell myself, rubbing my forehead. “You’refucked up.”
I came to terms with having a crush on Kane a decade ago. What I didn’t anticipate was that crush never going away. It deepened, burning hotter and harder until all of a sudden, I was in love with a man who wouldn’t love me back.
It’s not that Kanecouldn’t.It’s that he won’t give up his lifestyle to go steady. Monogamy isn’t exactly his thing, and neither is commitment. It’s a miracle that he’s stuck around with me for as long as he has.
Especially when I love the fucking bastard.
I try to keep it under wraps. Ireallydo. Half the time, I’m convinced that I’m not in love at all—I’m merely Kane’s keeper, ensuring that he stays out of prison and in my life.
But the other half of the time, it fucking hurts to see him with women like Mercy. That’s why I need her out of the picture. Everything would be so much better if Kane would hurry up and graduate, leave the bitch behind, and run away with me.
Scoffing aloud, I flick ash off the end of my cigarette.
As ifhappily ever afterreally exists.
Pulling up the security app, I open Mercy’s bedroom feed to find that Sam’s gone. Mercy is curled up with her pillow, probably sleeping off the disappointment. I pinch my cigarette between my teeth, knowing exactly what that kind of disappointment feels like. She’s in for a long night.
I frown at my dick as it twitches, eager for some action that’s not fucking happening.
Yeah, I’m in for a long night, too.
People like us don’t have happy endings.
Chapter 21
Kane
There’sa certain calm before a storm that I usually ignore. Running and gunning my way through life—through people—means that I don’t pay attention to signs if they get in my way. If I want something, I go after it. End of story.
But with Zane, I’ve been waiting for him to make the first move.
I’m not stupid or unobservant or cruel enough to lead him on. The man needs to learn to buck up and nut up. I thought that over time, he’d get so sick of watching me flirt with and date other people that he’d explode, charging at me with his fists until I could calm him down and reassure him that I’m not going anywhere.
And that, yes, I love him too.
But with each passing year, I get less and less sure that he wants anything from me other than the pain. The hole in his heart is self-inflicted, a festering wound that he can fix if he just?—
Stops being so goddamn stubborn.
I stare at my phone for the hundredth time, rechecking his location to make sure that I’m not seeing things. He’s home. He’s just not inside. Sitting in his car, no doubt, frozen to the spot.
Is it fear? Is it regret? Does he not want to rock the boat because I could rockhisboat? I snicker at how witty I am, but my levity dies in an instant as the deadbolt on the front door unlocks. Standing from the couch, I wipe my palms on my thighs and wait for Zane to enter.
Any second now.
He’ll walk through that door and finally admit how he feels.
I sigh, dragging my hand through my hair as another minute passes without any change. Maybe he really does regret it. Maybe I pushed him too hard. Maybe I should have focused on his emotional well-being instead of the physical, but I’m better at the latter. Groaning, I shuffle to the front door and rap my knuckles on it. “Zane,” I call out, “I know you’re there.”
A moment passes before he responds. “Yeah.”
Pulling open the door, I give him a once-over, pausing at the heavy flush on his cheeks and the hint of tears in his eyes. The bastard’s gonna psych himself out from coming home. Fuck. Maybe Ididpush him too hard.
But there’s no going back.
