The Secrets Between Us (Billionaire CEO Romance)

by Katie Mettner

  My hand snaked out to squeeze his neck tenderly. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine the stress you’ve been under and the stress you’re still under.”

  “Mercy?” He said my name like a question and it sent an instant shot of fear straight to my heart. Against my better judgment, I glanced at him. “Why did you kick me out last night? Why did you sob uncontrollably to the point I could hear you through the walls of the cabin? What did I do that hurt you so badly?”

  I dropped my arm from his neck and grasped Justice. “You didn’t do anything and I wasn’t sobbing uncontrollably.”

  His lips popped when he gazed at me. “Not what it sounded like on my end. I stood outside your bedroom until you quieted. It was only then that I left.”

  “Must be the holidays getting to me,” I answered, staring at the fire, so I didn’t have to make eye contact with him.

  “Nope,” he insisted. He grabbed my legs and swung them around until I faced him. “You were fine until I uttered those two words. I don’t need eight years of college to add two and two.”

  I dropped my gaze to my lap. “You sure you want to hear about this shitshow?”

  His hand grasped the end of my empty sweatshirt sleeve, something I noticed he did more and more as the days went on. “I’m positive.”

  I met his eyes because if nothing else, he deserved that much from me. “My parents named me Mercy as a joke. The moment I was born my father said, “Mercy me, another mouth to feed,” and that was that. He never missed an opportunity to remind me I was taking up precious resources in the family. When you said those two words together, it just sent me back to those days when my father tortured me daily for no reason other than I existed.”

  He shook his head and stared up at the sky for a few moments. “A father shouldn’t do that, Mercy. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

  “Considering how all of that ended, I’m lucky to be alive. He wasn’t a nice man.”

  “How did it end?” he asked, his head tipped to the side. “Is that how you lost your arm?”

  Instinctively, I pulled my arm from my sweatshirt sleeve and tucked it against my belly. “No … my … uh,” I paused and cleared my throat. I wanted to make eye contact with him, but I couldn’t, so I stared over his shoulder. “My mom killed him one night.”

  His brow went up and I dropped my eyes to my lap again. “She killed him? Was it a domestic situation?”

  “Yup,” I answered, closing my eyes against the onslaught of emotions that still flared to life every time I thought about that night. “I’ll never forget it. Probably because I had to witness my father’s bloody death at eight-years-old.”

  He squeezed my hand and shook it slightly. “You don’t have to tell me. I’ll remember not to call you that.”

  “There’s not that much to tell. He was drunk and beating her. He was going to kill her. She and I both knew it. She also knew if he killed her, he’d come after me. She may not have been Mother of the Year, but something about that was too much for her to bear. When he turned his back to find something else to beat her with, she grabbed the loaded shotgun she apparently kept for just that situation and put it to his chest. I remember standing in the doorway watching as he grabbed the barrel, his drunken slurred words telling her to do it. That she didn’t have the guts to pull the trigger. Then I just remember him flying backward and most of his chest scattered across the kitchen floor.” I shuddered and sucked in air, my eyes closed against the memories of the horror and disgust of that night.

  He leaned over and put his arms around me, holding me to him, his beard brushing against my cheek. “I’m sorry. That must have been a terrifying thing to witness at such a young age.”

  “I think it’s a terrifying thing to witness at any age. The gore, blood, and murderous look in my mother’s eye made my heart pound and my stomach churn. But then came the moment I realized he couldn’t torture us anymore. All I felt was relief. It’s terrible to say, but that’s the truth. Our tormentor was dead and I was happy about it.”

  “Did your mom go to jail?” he asked, leaning back and refilling my coffee cup so I had something to hold.

  “That’s a whole other twisted story.” I sipped the coffee to avoid answering him further.

  He held his arms out at the empty woods. “I’ve got nothing but time.”

  “Why do you care so much? It’s not like you’re ever coming back here, Hayes. You have a life in the city that will never intersect with mine again.”

  “Never say never. It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. It’s your story, not mine. Are you hungry? We could roast some hot dogs. I picked them up at this store called Target. They have tons of different kinds of meat there.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him and laughed, the heaviness of our discussion fading away. He dug around in the cooler and pulled out packages of meat. “I even got an extra package for Beast. He seemed like the kind of dog who would appreciate a good wiener.”

  A smile creased my face. “I’m the kind of woman who appreciates a good wiener. I just never get any.”

  He dropped the package back into the cooler and grabbed me around the waist. He pulled me onto his lap and his lips brushed mine. “Luckily for you, I’ve got an all you can eat buffet,” he promised, his voice low and growling.

  I wiggled against his lap and moaned. “It feels to me like that buffet is ready to eat.”

  His lips captured mine in a rough kiss of sucking, biting, and tongue stroking, his hands everywhere as he made love to my mouth. His hips bucked and he ground against me, desperate to relieve whatever fire was burning within him.

  “Fuck, Mercy. If I was a different man, I’d take you right here, right now,” he hissed, his tongue snaking out to flick inside my ear.

  A shiver ran through me and I braced my head on his shoulder. “I’d probably let you. When I’m with you, I feel different.”

  “Different?” His lips, teeth, and tongue trailed up and down my neck in a seductive dance of sex and passion. “Different how?”

  “Like a woman.” My head fell backward and he nipped and sucked at my neck. His teeth scraped along my collarbone and then his lips followed behind to take the sting away.

  “You are a woman. An incredibly alluring and sexy woman,” he added, his lips suckling my neck until I was sure there would be a mark there tomorrow. He ground his pelvis against my bottom, and moaned until his lips sought mine again in a hungry dance of erotic desire.

  “Hayes,” I moaned around his lips, but he nipped my bottom one to quiet me.

  “Stop. Don’t think, just feel. Follow the feelings, Mercy,” he ordered, his voice firm, but erotic. “What is your body telling you to do?”

  “Hayes,” I moaned again when his lips trailed down my neck and his hands worked me out of my parka. The trail of heat blazing down my neck kept me warm when he yanked my sweatshirt over my head. “Hayes,” I whispered, his hands under my thermal shirt, caressing and heating my chilled skin.

  “I love the way you say my name,” he moaned into my neck. “God, you’re incredible.”

  In a blink his parka was gone and then my shirt. My lace bra was nothing against the cold and my nipples hardened instantly. He noticed and the groan that tore from his lips instinctively made me grind against him, pleasure ripping through me. He laid me back onto the blanket and covered both of us with another before his head dipped to my breasts. He sucked and pulled at my tender buds through the lace until he couldn’t take it any longer and ripped the lace away, revealing his gift. His hips thrust against me, rubbing cloth on cloth in a maddening dance of lust and desire. His tongue stroked and his lips sucked at my nipples, his beard bristly against the tender skin of my breast. I arched under him, my hand holding his head to my skin, but my cries of wanton need echoed around us in the empty woods.

  “I’ve wanted you,” he gasped, his teeth biting down gently on my nipple before he licked the sting away, “since the day I knew you existed.” He abandoned my bre
asts and kissed his way down my belly, but I cried out for him to come back. He laughed, the sound low, naughty, and hot as hell. “Oh, darling, I’ve got something even better in store for you. Patience, my beautiful Mercy.” The wicked glint in his eye excited and worried me at the same time. His lips made love to my belly while his fingers disposed of the leggings and thong I’d so carefully picked out just a few hours ago.

  His lips and tongue made their way back to my breasts while his fingers made quick work of my pants. I didn’t feel the nip of the cold air over the roaring fire of need in my veins. His fingers caressed the tender skin of my breasts and belly, but never found their way to the place I wanted them the most.

  “Hayes, touch me,” I begged, my hips thrusting to meet his jean-clad erection.

  “What did I say, Mercy?” He bit down roughly on my nipple until I answered his demanding question.

  “Patience,” I squeaked, my voice high pitched until he licked and kissed the sting away.

  His lips trailed down my belly again while his magic hands made love to my breasts. His chin rested against my mound, his eyes holding mine to show me the smoldering hot look of lust he couldn’t hide. “I don’t know about you,” he growled, “but I’m hungry.”

  “Hayes,” I moaned. Language escaped me when his hands nudged my thighs apart and his lips found my most secret place. I cried his name again, grasping his head and thrusting upward when his tongue caressed me in long, wet, full strokes.

  “Keep saying my name,” he ordered. He nuzzled me with his nose while his tongue performed a magic act, the likes of which I’d never experienced before. “Keep saying it,” he begged.

  I called his name, my hips thrusting and bucking wildly. His attention to detail showed me exactly what kind of lover he was. Experienced, attentive, and talented. Unbelievably talented. “Hayes, you have to stop,” I begged, my body twitching with the power it took to keep from falling over the edge. But he didn’t stop. He kept stroking me, his fingers adding to the magic that was Hayes Rutherford. I writhed under him, unsuccessfully trying to hold back and wait for him to be inside me before I flew to the heavens.

  “Let go, sweetheart,” he ordered, his voice muffled from where he rested between my legs. “Let the feelings take control for once,” he cooed, his voice a balm to my battered soul.

  His soft laughter, mixed with a throaty moan, was all I heard when the stars lit up the back of my eyes and the sensations pushed me to the brink of the atmosphere. I shuddered uncontrollably when the orgasm took hold. It sent a skitter of fear through me at first, but then my nerve endings all electrified and everything disappeared from around me. The snap of the fire, the call of the cardinal, the light breeze blowing against my skin, and the way he whispered my name all faded into the background while I floated in a place I had never been. In all my life I had never had an orgasm as all-encompassing as the one he’d just given me. When I locked eyes with him again, his were filled with a look I could only describe as lust with a layer of something deeper. Something I couldn’t, or shouldn’t, define.

  “You’re stunning,” he whispered, his lips back on mine. He tasted of me and it was strangely salacious. “I need you, Mercy,” he begged, his lips trailing to my ear where he traced the inside with his tongue. “Do you want me, too?”

  I grasped his ass, my hand caressing his soft skin rather than the rough jeans I had been expecting. He ground against me, his need hard and pulsing against my belly. “We don’t have any protection.”

  “I took care of protection a decade ago,” he assured me, his tongue dipping into my cleavage.

  That was all I needed to hear. “Inside me, now,” I moaned.

  His hips bucked and he caressed my side, my skin rippling when his long, soft, roaming fingers trailed into the curls between my legs. He moaned into my neck when his fingers came away slippery from just one touch. “You’re mine,” he whispered, nudging my legs apart and settling between them. His lips teased mine into forgetting I was about to get laid in the woods by a guy I barely knew. He thrust inside me slowly and with the restraint of a man who knew how to fuck a woman completely and thoroughly.

  I raised my hips, taking him deeper until he shuddered, his body primed with passion. I held his ass cheek, the sensation even more erotic than I’d imagined. His muscles were taut and he wanted to move, but I wouldn’t let him. “Wait,” I ordered, letting his body twitch and buck against my hand. “I want to remember this feeling forever,” I sighed, his body snug against mine.

  He thrust forward gently. “I fit so perfectly inside you,” he hissed in my ear, right before he bit down on my lobe. He tugged on it for a moment before releasing it. “No one has ever made me feel like this before, Mercy.” He claimed my lips and his willpower crumbled. The incredible part about making love to Hayes Rutherford the Fourth was the intimacy he infused without even trying. I had no doubt that no matter where we were, the same feelings would encompass me. Safety. Pure, unadulterated passion. Expectation that I would be myself because that was who he wanted to be with.

  “Hayes,” I cried, my hips thrusting to meet his needs and desires. He’d impaled me so deeply I could feel his hard cock against my belly every time he pushed inside me.

  “Shhh,” he whispered, his lips on mine again to kiss and suck away my words. He slowed everything down, his eyes going ice white for a moment of pure and complete pleasure. He grasped my neck and back and pulled me up with him when he sat back onto his butt. Still buried deep inside me, he settled me over his lap, his hands holding my face tenderly. “You own me now, Mercy. Take me to heaven,” he begged, his head falling backward.

  My hips moved on their own accord, as though they knew the exact rhythm we both needed to find our way there. His hands grasped my ass and held me still over him, his breath quick and uneven against my neck.

  I moved against him again, overpowering his hands, my lips to his ear. “Now. Let go now,” I begged.

  “God, Mercy,” he cried.

  I read him instantly. The way he twitched inside me, how his eyes clouded over, and the way his lids lowered. He was lost. There was no coming back from the pleasure coursing through him. I braced my forehead on his shoulder and he grasped my waist, holding me to him while he spasmed inside me. His warmth filled me completely and my own breath hitched. His breath came in short gasps and his low, throaty moan sent me shooting off to the stars again. When I could drag air back into my lungs, I was wrapped up tight to his chest with the blanket around us. We both had to work to slow our breathing before we could speak.

  He grasped my chin, tilting it up to stare into my eyes. “Mind blown.”

  Mine closed for half a second. “Same,” I whispered. “Twice.”

  He laughed then, hugged me tightly, and kissed my neck tenderly. “You’re incredible, Mercy. Absolutely incredible,” he whispered. He fixed my thermal shirt and tugged it over my head, helping me get my arms into the sleeves. “I don’t want you to catch a cold. I have plans to do that again, or several agains, and you’re going to need your strength.” He winked and turned to hunt for his shirt.

  His words turned my blood to ice and I scooted off his lap, the cold ground jolting me back to reality. I rested my head on my knees and took a couple of deep breaths. This man. Why in the hell did I continue to torture myself?

  Go home and lock the door so he can’t come near you again, Mercy. Send him back to his family and the life he’s used to and deserves, so you can lie in the bed you made.

  His hand came down on my back and I jumped, swallowing hard over the lump of emotion in my throat. “Let me guess, something from the past just came back to bite you in the ass, and remind you that you’re not good enough for me,” he whispered. His words held no question, just resolved acceptance.

  I lifted my eyes to his, my armor nowhere close to full strength, but I had to save him from himself. “I’m not good enough for you, Hayes, no matter how much I want to be. In the end, I can never be what you actually need i
n this life.”

  He lowered himself to his hip and wrapped the blanket around my still naked legs. “And what is that?”

  “A woman you can be proud of.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  HAYES

  “You’re an asshole,” the voice on the other end of the line said when I picked up the phone.

  “Merry fucking Christmas to you too, Caleb,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “Language, Hayes. It’s unbecoming.”

  “Fuck you,” I hissed, gritting my teeth.

  “Thanks, but I’m getting plenty. Sounds like you need to do the same.”

  “What do you want?” I asked, tossing my coat on the old couch in the cabin. “I’m busy.”

  “You can’t be that busy since you lost the account you were supposed to be finishing. You know, the final account Dad secured?”

  He might be my brother and my best friend, but sometimes he was a real asshole.

  “I’m hanging up now,” I said, ready to hit the button when I heard him yelp.

  “Is it true?” he asked, his voice thick across the line.

  “Is what true?” I flopped onto the couch and leaned over on my elbows.

  “That you’re not coming home for Christmas. Mom and Sarah have been crying since yesterday.”

  I sighed, knowing exactly what he was doing, so I figured I’d cut him off at the pass. “Nice try at guilting me, but don’t waste your breath. I just talked to mom and told her I changed my mind. I’ll be home for service tomorrow night.”

  A relieved sigh stretched across the line. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure what we were going to do without you and Dad this year.”

  “It’s going to be a dumpster fire whether I’m there or not.” I rubbed my forehead from exhaustion and frustration. “The day will be interminable either way.”

  “Maybe, but I’d rather find a way to get through it together than apart.” He cleared his throat before he spoke again. “I miss you. We never see each other and when we do, we’re constantly fighting about something.”