Page 23 of The Price of Mercy
Grabbing my glass, I chug the rest of my water. “Um. But I haven’t—” I start to sweat as three pairs of eyes lock onto me. “You know. Had sex.” Cringing at myfabulousdelivery of that line, I continue, “I don’t know how to have sex with one person. How could I have sex with multiple people?”
“We could take turns—” Kane holds up his fingers as he rattles off a list of options. “One of us could watch. We could mutually masturbate. One person could kiss you while the othereats you out, like last time only better. Or if we get really freaky, we could DP you?—”
Sam squeezes my knee under the table.
I know I’m going to regret this, but… “What’s DP?”
“Double penetration. It’s when two dicks are inside you at the same time,” Kane says matter-of-factly. But the way he grins is one hundred percent devilish. “Or a toy, technically. With three men, though, we could triple penetrate if we coordinate properly. But let’s not sprint to the finish line?—”
“Please,” Sam groans, “don’t make up some cheesy metaphor.”
“—when we haven’t even warmed up yet.”
Zane sighs as he pushes his full plate away. “I haven’t agreed to anything. As it stands, Mercy is still a virgin.” He purses his lips. “I don’t have sex with virgins.”
A part of me dies inside as he turns and walks away, leaving the three of us at the table in awkward silence. Deja vu hits as I recall the last time Kane said something like this at dinner—in fact, it might have been the exact same proposition.Sharing, I think he called it then.
That conversation went a lot smoother than this one.
Kane watches Zane leave, a tiny wrinkle of a frown playing on his lips. “I still think it’s a good idea.”
“That’s a terrible idea,” Sam hisses. “We still don’t have any answers about the party! And you want tofuck it out, like we’re in some romance movie!”
“That’s called porn, Sam.”
I crack a smile. “Porn can be romantic…”
Both men laser-focus on me again. “When have you watched porn?” Sam asks, his voice hushed.
I cross my arms. “I’m a virgin, Sam, not a nun.”
Chuckling, Kane smirks across the table. “If you show me what you like, we can reenact your favorites.”
“No, no,no. Not happening.” Sam sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not here to fuck around, Kane. I’m here to keep Mercy safe fromyourpsychopath brother.”
Kane’s smile darkens. “Careful, Sam. Call him names like that and he might gut you in your sleep.”
“That’s exactly my point.”
This might be too much for one day. Closing my eyes, I fight a brewing headache. “I think I need to lie down.” As I stand up, so does Sam. I try not to get annoyed. “I don’t need an escort.”
“It’s a big house.”
“Sam.” Frowning, I grab my dinner plate. “Put this in the fridge for me. I’ve lost my appetite.”
His frown mirrors my own as he takes my plate. “You skipped breakfast and lunch.”
“I’m fine. I’ll eat later.” Right now, I need a break from the men. Taking a breath, I squeeze his hand for reassurance. “I promise.” Before he can argue, I back out of the dining room. The short walk to my bedroom—next door to Sam’s—gives me a moment to breathe. As fun as fooling around with the guys sounds, Sam’s right. I don’t have any concrete answers about what happened at the frat party, and until I do…
Orgies will have to wait.
Sometimes I imagine that shadows move. In the dark of my room, I see them stretching their fingers towards me, eager to touch the girl they’ve been haunting her entire life. It’s a trick of the light—or lack thereof—and it doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. I’m not scared of the dark.
It’s what lurks within that frightens me.
I jolt awake at the pinprick sensation dancing across my body. Heart pounding, I sit up and stare at the unfamiliar shapes in the room: a stained glass lamp, a wicker dresser, an armchair sitting by the window. Not shadows. Not ghosts. Furniture.
The only scary thing is how none of them have any cohesion.
