Page 17 of Shades of Mercy
She’d only half paid attention to the conversation because she couldn’t stop looking at Jag—the jackass.
Each time she thought she had overcome her girl crush, he resurfaced, and all those secret feelings, longing, and the anger of rejection reappeared like a hurricane on her body. She didn’t want to have those feelings, but she couldn’t help herself.
What was most humiliating? He only saw her as his best friend’s little sister for so long. Then one night in bed together, and he’d walked away like it meant nothing, just adding another notch on his bedpost.
Did one of the men use the word “spanking” or had she misheard? Had Mateo told Jag togiveher a spanking if she misbehaved? No, that’d never happen.
A vision of her lying across Jag’s lap, her skirt hiked up, her panties down, and him swatting her bottom made her feel a pulse between her thighs. She could almost feel the sting on her skin.
No, she didn’t want to feel this.
He didn’t deserve it.
She squeezed her legs together.Stop thinking of Jag’s large hand swatting your ass…
It didn’t work.
The thought remained.
Her panties were damp, and she practically squirmed.
Jag scraped his fingers down his whiskered jaw, and the sound ignited fire in her veins. So now she imagined how his beard would feel against her slick lips after he spanked the sass right out of her.
She was supposed to be focusing on what the men were saying, after all, it dealt with her. Yet, she had brain fog.Jag fog. She pressed her hand against her belly and tried to calm the butterflies there.
How was it possible that Jag looked better with age?
And that she could still want him when she hated him just as much?
It would be foolish to allow her fantasies to become reality for a second time.
Jag was not the man for her. He was nothing but an anti-committal, egotistical player.
The last thing she needed, or wanted, was a man who loved his job, but nothing else. Hell, he was his job.
Yet, he was undeniably gorgeous. Sexy. And any time he was near, she wanted to peel away his layers and get to the good stuff.
She could want him for another thirteen years, and he’d still never give her the things she wanted from a man: stability and affection.
She wanted to be someone’s all.
“Mercy?”
She pulled herself out of her thoughts and narrowed her gaze on her brother. “What?”
“I said, do you agree to the terms?” he asked.
She wanted to be stubborn and demand that he take her home, but they were past that point. So, she gave a curt, “Sure.”
“Great. Don’t worry, Mateo. She’ll be fine. I’ll guard her with my life.” Jag said, meeting Mercy’s gaze for a mere fleeting moment.
How would this work? How could she be near him? She was a pathetic, crushing thirty-two-year-old. She didn’t want to make a fool of herself, but it always seemed like she made a fumbling mess when he looked at her with the most amazing green eyes.
“I need to go,” Mateo said, dragging Mercy in for a tight hug. “Be vigilant. You have the gun, right?”
“Yes, I do. Don’t worry. I’ll be okay,” she assured him. Tears filled her eyes, and as he pulled away, she blinked them away. Why was she suddenly so emotional?
“I know I can trust Jag. He’ll not let anything happen to you, no matter what.” Mateo stepped over and shook Jag’s hand. “Just like you said, guard her with your life.”
