Page 37 of At Your Mercy
My stomach dropped.
He didn’t even look at me while he did it, like he already knew how this would play out.
I jerked once against his hold, but his body blocked mine so completely that the effort died quickly. My breath came too fast, too shallow.
Moments later, the growl of an engine approached from the mouth of the alley. Headlights flared briefly, then a sleek black car rolled to a stop.
Wes finally leaned back enough to look me in the eye. That faint smile tugged at his mouth again. “You’ll come, won’t you, babydoll?”
I froze when the back door of the car clicked open. The world seemed to narrow to the dark interior waiting there, the car’s tinted windows swallowing everything beyond.
I could run. My feet knew it, screamed it. But they didn’t move.
Instead, I faltered—only for a breath, a stumble of hesitation that sealed my fate.
And then, I followed him into the backseat.
10
Wesley
The door thudded shut behind Ro, sealing us in. My driver didn’t so much as glance in the rearview mirror.
Ro sat on the white leather seat next to me, shoulders bristling, pressed tightly against the car door. He looked conflicted on whether or not he should’ve followed me.
I let the silence linger for a few minutes, allowing the tension to build. I shifted, one arm resting along the back of the seat, closing that space between us without touching him yet.
“We’re going to a hotel.” I tilted my head slightly, watching his throat work.
“Don’t read too much into me coming with you,” he muttered, avoiding my gaze.
I smiled softly at him. “Okay.” I leaned in, close enough to catch the faint scent of his skin beneath the adrenaline. “I’d like to establish a safeword with you before we arrive.”
His brow cinched, and his stunning eyes flicked up. “Why would we need that?” he asked.
I brought my hand up to cup the back of his neck again, thumb massaging into the tender hinge just below his ear. He stiffened for a second, but didn’t pull away.
“So that I can stop if anything gets to be too much for you,” I answered.
His lashes flitted, eyes displaying his hesitance. “Would you actually pay attention to it?”
I tilted my head. “Of course I would, Ro.”
He fidgeted with his hands, staying silent for a moment.
Ro’s knuckles went white where he twisted his fingers together, his defenses slipping just enough for me to see the raw nerves underneath.
“You don’t even really know me,” he muttered finally, voice low and sharp, as if the words could cut through his own unease. “Why the hell would you care if it was too much?”
I let my thumb drag slowly along the curve of his neck, breathing through the anger his questions caused. I wasn’t mad at him—never him. He could ask all the questions he wanted, and I would always try my best to answer. No, it wasn’t him. It was because of the reason behind his questions—the reason that made him think I wouldn’t care about his comfort, his consent.
“Because you are a person.”
His breath caught—just for a second—but it was enough. “What?”
“I’m not one to deprive others of their basic human rights.” I swallowed my rising emotions back down my throat and caught his chin in my hand, turning his face towards mine. “Do you understand?”
Ro hesitated, then gave a stilted nod. “Okay. Yeah,” he whispered.
