by Rose, Karen
There was, however, a dark sedan parked down the street that followed him as he left Burkett’s neighborhood. A glance in the rear-view revealed a head of white-blond hair reflecting the glow of the streetlights. Not blond like Mercy’s detective, Rafe Sokolov. That would have been bad enough.
It was DJ. He was sure of it.
Fuck you, Pastor.
Stay calm. DJ might have been a better shot, but Ephraim was a much better driver. He kept an eye on the rear-view mirror, watching the dark sedan match him, move for move.
Fucker. Ephraim pulled onto the interstate going north, weaving between cars, then allowing the sedan to get a little too close before crossing three lanes of traffic and pulling off the exit in a cacophony of horns. Not prepared for the move, DJ missed the exit and kept driving.
Ephraim exhaled in relief, then started for Sacramento, using a state road instead of the interstate. It would take him longer to get there, but DJ wouldn’t know where he’d gone and that was good enough for now.
Twenty-seven
Sacramento, California
Tuesday, 18 April, 10.05 P.M.
Mercy closed the apartment door and began unbuttoning her coat as she looked at the box at her feet. ‘It was nice of your mother to make more food, but I’m not sure it’ll fit in the fridge. It’s still full from the last time. I might have to put some of it in the freezer.’
She’d shooed him straight to the sofa as soon as they’d entered the apartment, and Rafe hadn’t complained. He felt like he’d been through two dozen of Cash’s PT sessions. At least.
‘I think the freezer is also full. Mom’s always cooked when she’s stressed out. If we came home from school and the kitchen was filled with food, we knew Mom was upset about something. For all her “You vill do this, you vill do that,” she really hates confrontations. She’s a softie, but I won’t ever admit that I said that.’
He lowered himself to the sofa, ignoring the pain in his leg because Mercy was hanging her coat in the closet like she’d done it a thousand times.
He wished she would. He wished he could tell her that he wanted her to stay. But it wasn’t time for that. Not yet. They had another seven and a half weeks until she went back to New Orleans.
A fact that startled a laugh out of him.
‘What’s so funny?’ Mercy asked, on her way to the kitchen, Irina’s box in her arms.
‘Come sit with me and I’ll tell you.’
Two minutes later, she did, sitting so close that their hips touched. So close that he could put his arm around her shoulders and pull her against his chest. So he did, feeling like he could finally breathe again when she melted into him.
‘I was thinking how you still had seven and a half weeks of leave left. You’ve only been here four days.’
‘Feels like four weeks already,’ she agreed wryly. ‘Facing my batshit-crazy ex-mother-in-law, reuniting with my stepfather, and being shot at by my evil ex-husband is kind of a lot.’ She sighed. ‘Then I think of the lives DJ and Ephraim have stolen and feel selfish for worrying about myself. And don’t tell me that it’s not my fault. I know it’s not. But I still feel responsible.’
He kissed her temple. ‘I wouldn’t respect you so much if you didn’t care about the lives Ephraim and DJ have taken. And I do. Respect you, I mean. I don’t think I’d be handling this nearly as well if I were in your shoes. You’re stronger than you know.’
She looked at him, gratitude in her eyes. ‘Thank you. I’ve been considered fragile by so many people for so long. It’s nice to be seen as strong. It’s good for my ego,’ she added with a self-deprecating grimace.
He gripped her chin gently, needing to wipe that grimace from her face. ‘I don’t think you have much of an ego.’ He kissed her the way he’d wanted to do since they’d left the apartment that morning, long and lush and full of all the emotion he was afraid to put into words. Stay. Stay with me.
Turning in to the kiss, she slid her arms around his neck, making a sound that was part purr, part growl, and his body woke up. He wasn’t tired anymore. Not at all.
When that kiss ended, she drew his head down for another, fluidly rising to her knees to take control, and he couldn’t hold back a groan. Didn’t want to hold back. He wanted her to know what she did to him, exactly how much power she held over him. Restlessly he ran his hands up her sides, skimming her breasts before sliding down to her waist, tugging her closer.
He wanted more. He wanted everything. But he didn’t dare take any more, tamping down on his impatience. She’d had a rough day. He wouldn’t make demands.
But if she did, he sure as hell wasn’t going to say no. And if she didn’t, he was more than satisfied. He could kiss her like this all night long if that was all she wanted.
When she lifted her head, they were both panting and her green eyes had grown dark and slightly dazed. Her lips, shiny and plump, curved. ‘Oh yeah. I do,’ she whispered huskily.
‘Do? Do what?’
She brushed her lips over his. ‘Have an ego.’
He blinked up at her. ‘Huh?’
Her dimples appeared and he wanted to lick them. ‘You said that you didn’t think I had much of an ego, but I do. And you’re really good at . . . stroking it.’
His cock lurched and he grimaced because his pants were now uncomfortably tight. Closing his eyes, he groaned as his head fell backward to the soft sofa cushion. He managed not to buck his hips, but just barely. ‘You’re mean, Mercy. So damn mean.’
‘No, I’m not,’ she said smoothly. ‘I’d be mean if I was only teasing. But I’m not.’ With that, she stunned him by swinging one leg over him, so that she straddled his lap.
Before he could stop himself, he covered her butt with both palms, kneading her flesh as he dragged her against him. His hips punched up, needing the contact, the friction. But he didn’t need to thrust too hard because she met him halfway, grinding down on him. Hard.
‘Oh my God. Mercy,’ he groaned. He tightened his grip on her butt, stopping her from swiveling her hips. ‘You’re killing me here.’
She tunneled her fingers into his hair, pulling his head upright for another scorching kiss that scrambled his brains. ‘Not gonna kill you,’ she muttered darkly, sending a thrill rippling over his skin. She let go of his hair, her fingers moving to his tie to pull it free of his collar. ‘Not done with you. Haven’t even started.’
He shook his head, trying to clear it. ‘Wait. Just wait.’
Her hands immediately stilled and his brain rebelled. No, no, what are you saying? Don’t wait. No wait!
He forced himself to breathe. ‘Wait,’ he said again, not sure who he was talking to, because he wanted to roll her to her back and thrust inside her over and over.
But he had to be sure. She had to be sure. He opened his eyes to see her poised above him, his tie gripped in both of her fists. She said nothing, simply stared down at him. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes intense, and she delicately touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip as if testing it.
He shuddered, wanting that tongue on his body. Those lips wrapped around his cock. ‘What do you want, Mercy? You need to be very specific.’
She smiled slowly, sensing victory. ‘I want everything.’ She licked his lower lip. ‘Everything.’
When she started to slide his tie free, he covered her fisted hands with his. ‘Wait. Please.’ He needed her to spell it out. ‘What does everything include? I don’t want to push you into anything you don’t want.’
‘You’re not pushing me into anything.’ She tugged on his tie with both hands. ‘I’m pulling you, if you want to get technical.’ She leaned in for a soft kiss, but not a tentative one. There wasn’t a tentative bone in her body at the moment.
Or in his. Some bones were far less tentative than others. ‘Okay,’ he rasped, then cleared his throat, holding on to control by the barest of thread
s. ‘Just so we’re clear, I want you more than I want to breathe. But I don’t want you to regret anything we do.’
‘Just so we’re clear, I won’t. And just so we’re clear?’ She tugged his tie, bringing his face a breath away from hers. ‘Everything means I want to be under you and I want to feel you inside me.’ She lightly nipped at his lip. ‘Is that definition clear?’
Oh. My. God. Heat washed over him and he arched backward, bucking up into her, groaning when she swiveled her hips, torturing him for sure. ‘Jesus.’ He gasped for air, loving the sound of her satisfied chuckle. Tentative Mercy had left the building. This was powerful Mercy and he was going to trust that she knew her mind. ‘Yes. Okay. Whatever you want.’
She grazed her teeth up his jaw, closing them over his earlobe. ‘Smart man.’
‘But . . .’ He laughed breathlessly when she ripped the tie from his collar and tossed it to one side, going for the buttons on his shirt. ‘Wait. Just one more second.’
She stilled again, this time with an impatient sigh. ‘What?’
He took her chin, tilting her face so that he could see her eyes. ‘If you don’t like anything I do, or if you want me to stop for any reason, say “stop”. I will. I promise. Tell me you understand.’
She nodded gravely. ‘I understand. I trust you. Are you finished now?’
‘Yes.’ His heart was beating so hard it almost hurt. She trusted him when no one would blame her for never trusting anyone ever again. It was a gift, and while Mercy wasn’t fragile, her trust was. He’d protect her trust, no matter the cost. ‘All finished. Well, with the PSA portion of our evening anyway. I hope the cardio portion is just beginning.’ He had no problem ceding control. Not to Mercy. ‘Where do you want me?’
She grinned, sliding off his lap until she stood in front of him. But then her gaze dropped to his body and all levity fled. He sat sprawled before her, legs spread, shirt halfway open and, he was sure, eyes sex-glazed. For a horrible moment he thought she’d changed her mind, until she slowly dropped to her knees. Frozen in place but hoping like hell, he could only stare.
‘Anywhere I can have you.’ She finished unbuttoning his shirt, then freed the cuffs on his sleeves. And then she touched him. Really touched him, her hand gripping his cock through his pants.
He hissed, arching into her touch. ‘Mercy.’
‘My name or a request?’ she murmured.
‘Either. Both.’ His body twisted, trying to get satisfaction. ‘Please.’
She let him go, fumbling with the button of his pants. He moaned when she got it free and lowered his zipper, dipping her hand into his briefs to wrap her fingers around him.
‘You like that?’ she asked coyly.
‘You know I do. Please, Mercy. Pick a place. Sofa or bed. I won’t make it much longer.’
‘Oh, I think you will.’ She worked him with long strokes, just as she had that morning. She’d quickly learned what he liked.
He strained, thrusting into her fist, then remembered something important. Feeling blindly in the interior pocket of his jacket, he pulled out his wallet and found the condom he’d stored there.
‘Boy Scout,’ Mercy teased, a husky, breathy sound.
He cursed when she twisted her fist around the head of his cock. ‘If you truly want to feel me inside you, you’ll stop right now, or it’ll be all over.’
She pulled her hand away abruptly, rolling to her feet. ‘Then hurry.’
Levering himself off the couch, he ignored the sharp pain in his leg and kicked off his shoes. Grabbing his cane, he followed her to the bed, grateful for once that the studio apartment was so small. He was shrugging out of his shirt when he froze once again.
She’d pulled her sweater over her head, leaving her in her jeans and bra. It wasn’t a lacy bra. It was practical. Functional. But the plain cotton cupped her breasts like a dream and he held out his hand when she went to pull down the straps.
‘Let me,’ he said, amazed that his voice didn’t shake.
Obediently, her hands lowered to her sides, and she waited, her eyes expectant.
No fear, he thought, relieved. Just anticipation. Which was exactly as it was supposed to be.
Rafe rounded the bed, shuddering when he touched her. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, proud of the shiver that pebbled her soft skin. ‘You’re beautiful. Tell me that you know that.’
She tilted her head against his and he could feel her swallow. ‘You’re biased, I think.’
He straightened to meet her eyes. ‘You’ll say it eventually. I’ll make you believe it.’ He slid his arms around her back, unhooking her bra with only a little difficulty.
She chuckled. ‘Can I say that I’m glad you’re not so good at that?’
He kissed her smiling mouth. ‘My reputation as a player was a sham. Kept my mother and sisters from trying to set me up with all those women who weren’t you.’
He stepped back, taking her bra with him. Then taking a breath as he drank in the sight of her. ‘It’s been too long.’
‘It’s been sixteen hours.’
‘Too long.’ He tossed the bra and made quick work of her slacks, leaving her in a pair of equally practical panties and a pair of socks. Winding one hand in her hair, he tilted her face up for a kiss, pressing her backward until her legs hit the bed. She fell to her back, bouncing slightly before propping herself on her forearms.
‘You too. I want to see you.’
The husky demand sent a new shudder through his body. He shoved his slacks and briefs down in a jingle of coins and keys, suddenly done with the dance. He yanked off his socks, then yanked off hers.
‘Lie back,’ he ordered, waiting until she’d complied before reaching for the waistband of her panties. And . . . something changed. She bit her lip and looked a little scared. You promised you’d stop.
You promised. So he would. He closed his eyes, releasing his hold on her underwear. ‘It’s all right, Mercy. We’ll stop.’
‘I’m not changing my mind,’ she blurted out.
‘All right.’ Drawing a breath, he sat on the bed, his hip to hers, bending his knee so that he could see her face. ‘Then what is it?’
‘I have a scar.’ She pointed to her lower abdomen, still covered by the white cotton. ‘I didn’t want you to freak out about it. It’s not big, but it’s . . . not pretty.’
His mind spun for a few seconds, trying to put together what she was telling him. Had Ephraim stabbed her? And then he remembered. The night she’d escaped, DJ had shot her in the abdomen. On top of whatever issues had caused her mother to smuggle her out, she’d had to fight a gunshot wound to survive.
But she had survived.
‘Do you trust me?’ Rafe whispered.
Swallowing hard, she nodded.
‘Thank you.’ He leaned in to kiss her, long enough to have her sighing. He pulled the cotton away from her body and relaxed. It wasn’t that bad a scar. To her, though, it had been the culmination of a catastrophic year. A catastrophic life. And the night she’d lost her mother.
Gently, he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the puckered skin. ‘You could tattoo it,’ he suggested lightly, knowing that his reaction would be one she’d remember forever. ‘Maybe a small fox, peeking out of the bush?’ He grazed the neatly trimmed line of her pubic hair.
She stared at him for a long, long moment, eyes wide with disbelief. Then laughed, a true belly laugh that made her breasts jiggle in the most tantalizing way. ‘You’re ridiculous.’
He bent to kiss the scar, relieved as hell. ‘So is any worry about this. I have plenty of scars, Mercy. Whenever I see yours, I’ll just remember that you’re still here. With me.’
She lifted her brows. ‘Planning to see it again, are you?’
He settled himself between her legs, bracing himself on his forearms so that she didn’t feel trapped. ‘P
lanning to make you so addicted to me that you won’t even remember it’s there.’
She brushed his hair away from his brow. ‘I don’t think that’ll be too hard. Kiss me, Rafe.’
So he did, putting everything he had into the kiss, groaning when she slid her arms around his neck again and kissed him back.
‘I’m going to take my time with you,’ he murmured as he kissed his way down her throat. ‘Not gonna hurry. Not gonna rush.’
She did that swivel thing with her hips that made him lose his mind. ‘There’s a very good chance that we’ll be doing this again,’ she said, already breathing hard.
He kissed her collarbone. ‘That’s not why I’m going to take my time.’ He skimmed his lips down to her breast, licking her nipple. Making her gasp.
She let out a soft moan. ‘No?’
‘No. Not because I’m afraid this is it. It’s because you deserve to be worshipped.’ He sucked her nipple into his mouth and she cried out. He’d watched her that morning. He’d use everything he’d learned to give her this, their first time together, something she’d never forget. He moved to her other breast, sucking, then returning to kiss her mouth again, before repeating the routine until she writhed beneath him and his cock was leaking all over the sheets. He was shaking with the effort of holding back, but he wanted her mindless.
He wanted it to be glorious for her. For both of us.
Soon. He’d be inside her soon. Soon, soon, soon. He chanted the words in his mind to stave off his orgasm until she shoved at his shoulders.
‘Now,’ she demanded. She flung her arm to the side, fingers feeling for the condom he’d left on the nightstand. ‘Do it now. Please, Rafe. Please.’
Yes. Now. He reared to his knees, putting his weight on his good leg so that he could roll the condom on without falling over. Because wouldn’t that be sexy as hell.
He looked down to find her staring up at him, her green eyes dark with nothing but lust. No, not only lust. There was intense affection there too, and it gripped his heart a split second before she gripped his cock.
‘Now,’ she repeated.
