by Messer Stone
“Oh, um.” I cough into my fist. “Lorelai came to see me at the office one day and they hit it off. You know how it is with Lor, always eager to mold young female minds.”
He grunts and reaches into his breast pocket, extracting two Cuban cigars. “Let’s take a walk.”
****
We end up on a private terrace, blowing puffs of smoke out into the chilly night air. Normally, I would relish in the chance to have a few minutes of my dad’s undivided attention. Now, though, all I can think of is getting back inside to Mercy.
“So. How are things going with Gordon-Shields?”
I roll my shoulders. “We’re hitting a few roadblocks at the moment. But it’s nothing we can’t handle.”
“Anything I can help with?” he asks before taking a long puff.
“Nah.” I clear my throat awkwardly, choosing my next words carefully. “Boyd is worried the structure they’ve been operating under is antiquated. He thinks if we’re serious about building clout out west, we need to look at some modern options.”
“I thought Gordon-Shields was the hottest new thing on the block?”
“Some might say they’re disguising tired old ideas under an edgy marketing campaign.”
“Some might say,” he repeats slowly. “What do you say?”
I hesitate. “I think it may be worth the time to explore some other options.”
He studies me then and I can practically hear the doubtful thoughts running through his mind. Although my father loves and respects me, he thinks my wealthy upbringing has deprived me of a certain grit. A certain savvy that he picked up as a boy on the streets of New York.
“Close the deal,” he says at last. “Gordon-Shields is growing faster than any other shop in its league.”
“Yeah but once that plateaus—”
“Close the deal.”
See, under normal circumstances a CEO has authority over day to day operational decisions like these, while the Chairman of the Board is in charge of the big, overarching, companywide matters.
Normally, I’d take this kind’ve thing to the board and assert my right to make the decision. However in our situation I know that most of the board members would classify this as a family dispute and decline to become involved. And even if they did get involved, my semi-retired father still controls too many of them for me to come out on top.
And so, I keep my mouth shut, deciding I can figure out how to fight this battle another day. I take a long drag of my cigar and look up at the sky. Out of nowhere, I find myself wishing I could see the stars. Maybe I could take a trip upstate, somewhere quiet with room to breathe. I could take Mercy… maybe we could—
“I saw you talking to Blair.”
I tense. Blair Chapman is exactly the kind of woman my father’s always wanted me to marry. She’s smart, educated, and refined. And best of all, she comes from a wealthy family and has an established career. She’s the kind of woman who wouldn’t just be after me for my money. Someone who could contribute to the family, could be a true partner and support me in my career.
I don’t know how to tell him that I just don’t feel that way about Blair. She’s a lovely woman, who deserves a man utterly devoted to her. Unfortunately, that man isn’t me. If I didn’t know that when I was younger, I certainly know it now. How could I ever be truly happy with Blair now that I know what it’s like to hold Mercy in my arms?
The fact that Blair might have very real feelings for me only makes me more opposed to the idea. Having witnessed the dysfunction of my parents’ marriage, I could never marry a woman who loved me if I couldn’t love her back the same way. To be honest, I’m not sure I could ever get married at all.
“Yeah. It’s always good to catch up with old friends.”
When I don’t say anything else, my dad changes the subject. “Your new intern was a bit of a surprise. She’s young.”
“She is,” I concede. “But she’s got the mind of someone twice her age. Trust me. All she needs is a little exposure.”
“Hey, it’s your office.” He shrugs. “Not my business. So long as she’s not a distraction. Pretty thing like that hanging around can attract a lot of wandering eyes.”
“Mercy’s not a distraction,” I say, firmly. “She’s my employee and she conducts herself professionally at all times. If any wandering eyes have trouble getting past the fact that she also happens to be a beautiful young woman, they can go ahead and quit.”
A long moment of silence passes. “I heard about your little trip to Miami.”
“It wasn’t a secret.”
Dad rubs the burning end of his cigar in a nearby ashtray. “She calls, you go running. And after what she did to you…”
Irritation and shame sparks my blood as I look away. “She doesn’t have anyone else dad.”
“Doesn’t she have a husband? That old teammate of yours she was running around with, behind your back?” He arches a bushy black brow. “The one she dragged you down to Miami to bail out?”
Biting back a grunt of frustration, I ruck a hand through my hair. “I just posted the bail dad. It was nothing. I didn’t even see either one of them.”
“Look, son.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “I know I shouldn’t pry. It’s your life. I just don’t want you to get yourself wrapped up in something complicated because of a girl.”
Little too late for that, dad.
“I know.” I put my cigar out in the ashtray and head back inside.
Mercy
I’ve been around inebriated people before. I know that there are lots of different types of drunks. I’ve seen happy drunks, sad drunks, mean drunks. Laughing drunks, wandering drunks, dancing drunks.
Lorelai Callahan is a chatty drunk. Not to mention a massive over-sharer.
She puts her red face right up next to mine and bites back a loud giggle.
“Can I tell you a secret?” she whispers loudly into my ear.
“Uh…” I glance around her for some sign of Parker. “Sure?”
“Spencer has never made me come. Not once! Isn’t that ridiculous?” Her eyes narrow in thought. “Do you think I should sue? Can you sue someone for orgasm denial? What am I saying, of course you can. This is America, after all. I have rights.”
Since leaving her brother and father alone for their private chat, I’ve learned that Lorelai’s fiancé is an up and coming male model. With his lush brown hair and features so fine they’re almost feminine, I guess I can see it. He’s definitely not unattractive.
As Lorelai makes this confession to me, he’s sitting on the other side of her, completely oblivious as he observes his reflection in a spoon.
“And to tell you the truth we don’t even have sex that much. Like, at all. That’s probably a bad sign right?” Lorelai purses her lips, looking thoughtful as she twirls a strand of blonde hair. “I mean, I’m horny—like— all the time, but he—”
“When do you think Parker will be back?” I chirp, hoping she’ll get distracted by the change of subject.
She waves a hand, leaning back in her chair with a glass of red wine. “Oh who knows. He’s probably in a closet somewhere hiding from Blair.”
“Oh?” My ears perk up. Suddenly Lorelai’s drunken over-sharing feels like an opportunity.
“Yeah.” She takes a long gulp. “She’s been waiting on him forever. I keep telling her not to hold her breath, but she won’t listen.” A passing tray catches her eye. “Are those cream puffs?”
I tilt my face back into her line of vision. “You don’t think he’s ready to get married?
“Oh, no. Parker will never get married. Not to her or to anyone else.”
That takes me by surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Her mouth quirks to one side. “Parker has too many trust issues. My parents kinda messed him up, back when we were kids.” Her eyes meet mine as though she’s just realized what she’s said.
“It’s not like they meant to or anything,” she amends. “My parents are tough but the
y aren’t total dicks. It’s just… well, you know how parents can do that. Fuck you up without trying to.”
I snort, trying not to think about how true that statement was.
“Anyway, after the… the um…” She waves her hand around, searching for a word. “… After the incident, Mom got help and things got a lot better. Besides, they didn’t do half as much damage as that bitch Lola.”
My thoughts are scrambled as I try to keep up. “Who’s Lola?”
“Parker’s ex-girlfriend. They met in college.”
“What did she do exactly?” I ask, unable to resist.
“Dated him for two years and made him think they were gonna be together forever before turning into a total, back-stabbing slut,” she mutters, tugging at the bodice of her strapless silver dress.
“What—”
Boyd comes out of nowhere, looming over the two of us like a mountain as he smirks at Lorelai. “Doing alright there, princess?”
She scowls at him. “Fuck off.”
His smile widens and then he leans in to whisper something in Lorelai’s ear. I watch as her face transforms, her mouth falling open a bit and her eyes drooping to half-mast.
Boyd straightens and puts his hands in his pockets as he backs away from her. After he turns and walks out of the ballroom, she blinks after him for a second before leaning forward and draining the rest of her wine in a single gulp.
“Excuse me,” she murmurs before tearing a path after him, leaving me alone at the table with Spencer, who hasn’t stopped looking at his spoon.
My brain is firing at a million miles a minute, trying to make sense of the torrent of information I’ve just been hit with, when a warm hand descends on my shoulder.
Parker is looking down at me, his expression unreadable. “Are you ready to go?”
****
As soon as we’re in the back seat of the town car the driver— Lonny Shore, who I remember from my first afternoon at the Callahan Group— pulls easily out onto the busy Manhattan street.
When I look at him, Parker’s profile is shrouded in shadows. It’s a fight to keep all the burning questions I have from flying out of mouth. It’s an even bigger fight not to hike up the skirt of my dress and finish what we started before his father interrupted us.
But that can’t happen. At least not until we’ve had some sort of discussion. I meant what I said to him in the meeting room. I don’t want this to be over any more than he does. While it still might not be forever, I can’t stop myself from holding on to him for a long as I can. But first, we needed to have some kind of game plan. For the sake of my sanity. And my heart.
Reaching out, I clear my throat as I grab his hand. “I think we need to talk.”
“Yeah,” he says, his voice hoarse as he brings my hand to his lips. “Yeah, I think we do.”
CHAPTER 21
Parker
The right thing to do here is perfectly obvious. If I had a single ounce of common sense left, I would look Mercy straight in the eye and tell her this thing between us has to stop. Better yet, I would set her up with a different job so that I could free myself from the daily temptation of her in my life. Of course, I’m not going to do either of those things.
The thing is, I’m not ready to let her go. Not now. Maybe not ever. Though, I don’t think it will do either of us any good to get caught up in worrying about the future just yet.
“Did you mean what you said?” she whispers. “About not wanting this to end?”
“Every word.”
She’s wringing her hands in her lap and I reach forward without thought, taking them gently in mine and raising them to my lips. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I don’t know what I’m thinking.” Her eyes are on my mouth, watching with drooping lids as I kiss her hands. “I just…”
“Just what?”
White teeth gleam as they sink into her bottom lip. “You seemed really freaked out when your dad almost walked in on us.”
I search her face, trying to figure out where she’s going with this. “I’m sure you agree… the situation wasn’t exactly ideal.”
“No, but…. Would it really be so bad if people found about us?”
Oh, sweet girl. You have no idea.
It’s not that I’m worried over what people will think about me if my relationship with Mercy. I couldn’t give a fuck less about that. No, my worry is for Mercy herself. I know how it will look and the idea of people getting the wrong impression of her, of who she is, makes me a little crazy.
And also, there’s my father— who thinks that every woman not born into money is a gold digger— and lives by the motto ‘destroy first, ask questions later.’
“Sweetheart, listen to me,” I say, taking her face in my hands. “If we do this, it’s absolutely imperative that we keep it a secret. At least for now.”
Dropping down to rest my forehead against hers, I let out a breath. “Do you trust me?”
She squirms in her seat, as though she can’t help but get closer to me. “Yes.”
Pulling back, I look into those shimmering sapphire eyes and the vulnerability there, the total faith in my words, it makes me feel too heavy and too light all at the same time.
“I’ll never hurt you, Mercy,” I whisper, suddenly fierce. “Never.”
The smile that curls from her lips is soft, shy and sweet, nearly stopping the heart in my chest. “I know that. I think I knew it the minute I saw you.”
Jesus. This girl. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She drags her teeth over her bottom lip, leaving it shiny and plump. “The way you looked at me, like you’d take on the world for me if I asked. You made me feel so safe.”
For reasons I can’t explain, her words ignite a fire in my blood. I wrap that silky chocolate hair up around my fist and tilt her head back, slanting my mouth over hers and moaning as her tongue slides against mine.
She makes a sound, something caught between a whimper and a sigh, and if I could bottle up the way it makes me feel, I’d shoot it into my veins every day like the addict I am.
Her hesitancy is the only thing that gives me pause. “What is it?” I lock my eyes on hers as she scrapes her nails across my scalp.
“I’m sorry I got so jealous,” she says, looking embarrassed.
“Oh, baby, no.” I press a kiss to her forehead, while internally cursing myself for being such a jerk to her earlier. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more understanding… especially considering how I practically jump down Tripp Riley’s throat every time he looks at you.”
Her laugh reminds me of the soft fall of summer rain. Light, joyful and cleansing, filled with the promise of scorching heat.
“This thing we have between us…” I say, swallowing past something caught in my throat. “It’s like I’ve accidentally stumbled into some kind of heaven I haven’t earned. I suppose a better man would walk away.”
Her mouth touches mine, lingering in question. “Good thing I like the man you are just fine.”
Without another word she slips from the bench of seats and sinks down to her knees on the car’s floor. I immediately fumble at the control panel, meeting Lonny Shore’s eyes with warning until the partition slides into place, leaving Mercy and I alone.
Her hands slide up my thighs and before I can process what’s happening, she’s fiddling with my belt buckle.
“What are you doing?” I ask on a groan.
The smile she gives me nearly does me in. So sweet, eager and unsure all at once. “What do you think…”
Her voice trails off as she frees my cock, letting it spring to attention from under the waistband of my boxers.
“You don’t have to,” I say, even though it feels like I’ll die without her mouth on me.
“I want to.”
My head falls back before I can protest further, the wet heat of her perfect mouth enveloping me, depriving me of all reasonable thought. She’s slow, tentative as she takes me at first, and then she’s suddenly despera
te, almost as though she’s hungry for the taste of me.
“Oh fuck, yeah,” I growl through gritted teeth. “That’s it, sweet girl.”
Mercy is always beautiful to me, but right now she’s the picture of every goddamn fantasy I’ve ever had. Without thought, I thread my fingers through the soft tendrils of her dark hair, taking a firm grip. At first, I’m afraid I’ve hurt her, but then a moan of pleasure escapes her throat.
She looks up at me, with her pink lips stretched around my cock and big blue eyes so shrouded with lust to takes every ounce of strength I have not to come.
“Come here,” I growl.
She releases me with a slippery popping sound, and shakily gets to her feet. I get a bruising grip of her hips, lifting her into my lap.
“You like making me crazy?” I rake my teeth over the sensitive skin below her ear. “You like getting me so worked up I want to fuck you in the backseat?”
She makes a small, breathless sound as she squirms on my lap. “Maybe I do.”
It’s a bit of a struggle, getting past the ruffling fabrics of her skirt but I eventually manage it. My fingers seek out the heat between her legs, ripping at the soft silk of her panties. I tease her clit with the pad of my thumb, before slowly slipping a finger inside her.
“Oh!” Her voice is thick with need. “Wh-what are you doing?”
“You were so needy for me earlier,” I grumble, molding my tongue to the salty sweet planes of her flesh. “I didn’t have enough time to make you feel good. It’s been driving me crazy.”
I latch my teeth on the curve of her neck as I used my fingers to draw out those sweet, sweet sounds. Her scent envelopes me, hazes my judgement like the burn of liquor.
When I feel her tighten around me, I groan. Nothing compares to the way she comes. The very sight of it is like an eighth fucking wonder of the world.
“Oh, Jesus,” she gasps. “That’s so good. You’re so good.”
My answering chuckle is muffled in the skin of her throat. “Just wait ’til I get you home, sweet girl.”
CHAPTER 22
Mercy
“You had sex.”
