Have Mercy

by Hart, Lane

  “I guess the other girls don’t like me very much,” she finally admits.

  “Why not?”

  “You’ll have to ask them,” Hannah says with a bit more attitude. Good, so maybe I am getting to her.

  “I thought this place was all about loving everyone or some shit,” I point out.

  Hannah rolls her light eyes that are either blue or green or some combination. Like I care. Then she whispers, “Not everyone.”

  It only takes me a second to realize that this, not being liked by all the fake little bitches here, actually fucking bothers her. I file that little tidbit away for later.

  “From what I’ve seen, most of the girls here are just a bunch of stuck up hypocrites.”

  “They have their reasons, I guess. It’s not for me to judge them…” Hannah responds, making me want to barf at her actually taking up for the girls that don’t like her.

  If I had to guess, I can think of a few reasons why all the other females hate her. Hannah is classically and breathtakingly beautiful without even trying. Her face is the sort of flawless only models have; and she always wears her brunette hair in a perfect braid that hangs over her shoulder, making her look so sweet and innocent. From what I’ve seen, all the guys kiss her ass, trying to suck up to her like they have a chance in hell of being the first to get in her uptight, saintly panties.

  They don’t.

  At least, I don’t think they do. Maybe I just don’t want to imagine her with anyone else, which is stupid. Why do I care? She could fuck one or all of them and I wouldn’t give a damn. Except, for some reason, I want to go first. I selfishly want to be the first guy to defile her so that she’ll always remember me. Not in a good way either. If I’m already fucked up and ruined, then I want to take as many people down with me as possible.

  “How long have you been coming here?” I ask to get my mind off of fucking her before my dick gets any harder. It started swelling as soon as I looked up and found her in nothing but a towel, and it doubled in size when I noticed her nipples. It wouldn’t take much to see her completely naked, just for her to let go of the goddamn towel she’s clenching in her fist like her life depends on it.

  “Five years,” Hannah says, and it takes me a few seconds to realize what she’s talking about. I asked her how long she’s been coming here. Right.

  “Have the girls always been bitches to you?”

  “No. Just for like the past three-ish or so.”

  That’s probably right around the time all the guys her age started thinking with their dicks.

  “Then why do you keep coming back if no one likes you?” I ask, refusing to inform her while one sex may hate her, the other probably worships her nightly in their dorm rooms.

  “I don’t come here to make friends,” she answers simply.

  “So why do you come?”

  “Because…because I love the way I feel at the end of every day of giving back, and none of the snobby girls can do or say anything to take that away from me.”

  “That’s the biggest load of bologna I’ve ever heard,” I huff.

  “It’s the truth. You should try it.”

  “No fucking thank you,” I mutter. “I’m not here by choice and want no part of your giving back bullshit.”

  “Maybe you’ll enjoy it more than you think you will if you just give it a chance,” Hannah suggests.

  “I highly doubt it. I would rather just chill and take a nap,” I reply.

  “If you participate tomorrow, I won’t turn you in for sneaking into my room,” she says which certainly gets my attention. I thought for sure that Miss Follow the Rules would report me before I even leave the building. Actually, I’m surprised she didn’t run out of the room screaming when she found me on her bed. Why didn’t she?

  “Tomorrow’s Saturday. Our group doesn’t have work.”

  “I’m sure we could find something to do,” she says.

  Work with just me and her alone? “Fine,” I agree. “And if I help out, you won’t turn me in ever?” I confirm.

  “No.”

  “What about tomorrow night?”

  “What about it?” she says with her brow furrowed.

  “If I keep participating during the day, can I keep sneaking into your room at night?”

  Her cheeks flush red, making her face even more beautiful than before. “If you want to. I mean, as long as you won’t get caught and get me in trouble too.”

  Ah, so she wants me.

  I’m well aware of what girls my age see when they look at me – a pretty package that’s hot enough to overlook my ugly, hateful, bad boy attitude. Or, worst of all, they think they can try and change me, to mold me and make me into boyfriend material, which will never happen. Guess saintly Hannah Morgan is human and a regular, hormonal teenage girl after all who likes what she sees. I can definitely work with that. Maybe the way to break Miss Follow the Rules isn’t to make her get rip-roaring angry but to make her eventually do something even worse – me. Garrett would definitely lose his shit if I steal his girl out from underneath him too. And I know I can. It’ll be almost too easy to get in her panties.

  I’ve got three weeks left to break her. And if I have to get my hands dirty, it’ll be totally worth it to get her out of her towel and underneath me.

  “You promise?” I ask her.

  “Yes.”

  “No matter what?” I tack on, because now I really need to see her tits, tits that I plan on getting my hands and mouth on very, very soon. And I know her; if Hannah makes a promise, she’ll keep it, because that’s just how she works.

  “Yeah, no matter what,” she easily agrees which is when I slide over a few inches on the wall until my ass is now sitting down on the open window frame. Hannah’s eyes widen before she frantically asks, “What are you doing? Get down before you fall!”

  “It’s only two stories. You think it will kill me?” I rock back and forth a few times while holding on to the frame on either side of me. I’m not scared of death even if I were to lose my grip. In fact, it’s something I’ve considered a lot lately. If it wasn’t for the airbags in the crash, I may not be here right now…

  “Royal, move away from the window now!” she says, her voice sounding somewhat panicked as her eyes bulge with fear.

  There’s just one thing right now that I want more than a quick, easy escape from my fucked-up life and that is to see a naked woman up close and personal for the very first time. I’m horny all the time lately, and ending my own life is usually just a fleeting thought.

  When I lean backward out the window a few more inches, Hannah lunges toward me, grabbing my arm to pull me to my feet and thankfully abandoning her grip on her towel. All it takes is for me to give it a little tug by her side and down it falls to the floor, puddling around her feet. At least I assume that’s what the towel is doing. I’m too busy staring down at her heavy, pale tits and pink nipples just inches from my face. Leaning back just a tad, I get a quick glimpse at her bush too.

  “Royal!” Hannah exclaims before she slaps an arm across her chest and kneels down to pick up the towel. Which causes my dick to try and bust its way out of my jeans because not only am I still able to see most of her boobs, but now her face is level with my crotch.

  All too soon, though, she’s on her feet again, fighting with the towel to try and wrap it around herself. It’s barely covering her when her anger wins out over her modesty and Hannah’s palm connects with the side of my face.

  Before my cheek even starts stinging, Hannah gasps and slaps her palm over her gaping mouth after realizing what she just did. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” she whispers.

  I’m not.

  If a slap is the only punishment for seeing her naked, sexy body, then I’ll gladly take it over and over again. Besides, my dad hits a helluva lot harder than her.

  There’s no explanation for what I do next. Honestly, I’m not even sure how it happens or why.

  All I know is that my hands move on their own accord with
out thought or my permission. One covers Hannah’s to pull it away from her mouth while the other grabs her braid, giving it a tug to pull her mouth to mine. I press my lips to hers hard, because I’ve never done this before, and I can’t figure out why I’m doing it now.

  Chapter Five

  Hannah

  One second my heart is dropping to my stomach, seeing Royal so carelessly leaning out the window, and the next the organ is back in my chest where it belongs, thumping along so hard and fast that I fear it may give out.

  Except, my concern over my heart begins to fade as soon as other parts of my body begin to suddenly wake up for what feels like the very first time.

  I never knew kissing would feel like this, like all of my skin is burning up with a fever and I’m overheating.

  Royal’s lips are warm and damp, but they’re nothing compared to his tongue when it slides over mine. I hear myself make some sort of involuntary whimpering sound that’s muffled because he strokes my tongue with his again and again until my legs are so wobbly and weak, I’m not entirely sure they can keep holding me up.

  The rough way Royal is pulling on my braid may be all that is keeping me upright. My scalp stings a little with pain, but it’s drowned out by the ache in my lower belly that I’ve never experienced before.

  It’s not until I feel the pressure of cool denim against my bare stomach that I realize I’ve dropped my towel again. And the worst part about that? I don’t even care at this moment, because I like kissing Royal too much to stop.

  Besides, it’s not like things will go any further and I’ll have sex with him or anything.

  At least I thought we were only kissing before Royal lets go of my hand and then I feel his warm palm close around one of my breasts, making me gasp and freeze.

  “Stop. We should stop,” I whisper against Royal’s mouth while tugging on his hand. He lets me pull it away from my breast, but then he rubs it down my side and over my hip before it finally quits touching me, causing goosebumps to spread because his fingers were so close to another part of my body that’s never been touched by anyone before.

  I’m still trying to catch my breath when Royal picks up my towel and drapes it around my back and shoulders, leaving it gaping open at the front until I’m able to wrestle the cotton down and underneath my armpits to tuck the top down the front.

  And then I can’t even lift my eyes to his when my self-consciousness finally catches up to me.

  “See you tomorrow,” Royal simply says before he strolls casually over to the door and lets himself out.

  Once he’s gone, I finally take a deep breath and lower myself down on the foot of my bed, replaying everything that just happened from the beginning and trying to figure out what it all means.

  Royal was mean to me, throwing away my sketches that I had worked hours and weeks on, and then he tried to make me feel better about the girls here not liking me before he…he threatened to fall backward out the window. Was he serious? Would he have really done it, or was it all just a ploy to get me to drop my towel so he could see me naked?

  My mind spins for the next several hours, making it impossible to fall asleep once I put my pajamas on and get into bed.

  * * *

  Royal

  Last night when I got back to my dorm it was almost time for lights out. Which was perfect because it meant I had the showers to myself so I could relieve the pressure from my dick.

  I don’t feel an ounce of shame for tricking Hannah into losing her towel; but for some reason, I sort of hate myself for kissing her even though I’m not sure why. It just felt like a pussy thing to do, like something a girl would do, and yet it was my first instinct when I should’ve gone straight for her tits; or, if I had the balls, I could’ve gone for her cunt. But no, I kissed her first.

  And the worst part? I want to kiss her again just as much as I want to see her naked and touch her boobs again.

  But before I get a chance to do either again, I have to do what I agreed and pull my weight through whatever hell she has planned for today’s community service even though it’s a Saturday and we should be cooling off in the lake like everyone else.

  Titties are a powerful motivator. I’m starting to realize that whenever there’s a possibility a man can see his woman naked, he’ll do pretty much anything she wants. Guess that finally explains why my asshole father puts up with my mom’s nagging.

  So, for the chance to get Hannah out of her towel again, I’m up at the crack of dawn heading to her dorm on a Saturday morning when I could’ve been sleeping in. She comes out right at six-thirty, her brown hair in a braid hanging over her shoulder like usual. Instead of the camp tee, today’s she’s got on a yellow spaghetti strap tank top that’s snug against her rack and a pair of cutoff jean shorts that are frayed at the bottom. And, boy, are they short. Just the outfit alone is worth losing sleep over. Not to mention Hannah looks so alive and happy when she sees me waiting. Smiling brightly, she looks like a goddamn ray of sunshine.

  Great, I may as well just cut off my balls and hand them to her, because I’m turning into a pussy after getting my hands on her for one time that may or may not ever be repeated. That’s the problem. I would consider being castrated if it meant getting another round with her.

  “Good morning,” Hannah says cheerfully when she skips up to me.

  “Morning,” I greet her perky tits that are winking at me. Oh yeah, I remember them well.

  “Royal?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Stop staring at my boobs!” she whispers in a hiss.

  “Tell them to stop staring at me,” I reply when I finally look at her face again with a smirk. “You look cold. Do you need me to put my hands on them to warm them up a little?”

  “Maybe later,” Hannah says before she turns and walks away.

  “Wait. Did you really just say…” I ask when I jog to catch up to her.

  Smiling cunningly, she says, “Yes, but it depends entirely on your effort today.”

  “Now I know why the first caveman invented the wheel and where all the other major inventions and ideas came from – women using their bodies to bribe men into putting in a little hard work.”

  “A little hard work to make the world a better place goes a long way with us,” Hannah tells me.

  “So? What are we doing today to make the world a better fucking place?” I ask curiously. Not that it matters. She could tell me we’re going to shovel pig shit for the next eight hours, and I would be the first to grab a shovel.

  “First, we need to have breakfast,” she says. “Have you been down yet?”

  “No,” I answer. “And now that you mention it, I haven’t seen you in the dining hall all week.”

  “I go and eat early,” she tells me with a shrug as we start walking.

  “All meals?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why do you do that?” I ask.

  Sighing, she says, “If you must know, it’s because nobody ever wants to sit with me, so I would rather eat alone without an audience.”

  Again, it’s obvious that she hates being an outcast. And honestly, I don’t get it. Female jealousy is a powerful thing. Good to know. This summer may prove more educational at this hellhole camp than I expected.

  “Well, what are we going to do after breakfast?” I ask.

  “No clue. I’ll have to check with Pastor Hyde to see where he needs us.”

  * * *

  It turned out that Garrett’s asshole father needed us to go to the grocery store for the camp to pick up about three buggies worth of food because of some issue with their vendor. We spent hours in the grocery store, loaded up one of the vans, and then unpacked and put away all that shit in the kitchen and pantries.

  As if that wasn’t enough work for one day, he then asked Hannah and I to pick up litter across the entire campus, under the scorching hot midday sun.

  At this rate, I’m going to be too exhausted to try and make out with Hannah.

  Nah, that’s a
lie. I would find the energy to tongue fuck her even on my death bed.

  Which is exactly where it feels like I end up by five p.m. that afternoon when I’m the color of a lobster on every inch of skin that wasn’t covered by clothing.

  “Does it hurt? It looks like it hurts,” Hannah says softly.

  “Yes, it fucking hurts!”

  I’m lying completely still on her bed, arms out by my sides, legs spread wide in nothing but my shorts because it hurt too much to have shirtsleeves touch my arms or throat.

  She pokes one finger into my forearm and says, “This is bad, really bad, Royal. Maybe you should go see the nurse.”

  “No way,” I groan. “Bending my legs hurts too much to walk.”

  “If you had just put on the sunscreen like I offered, you wouldn’t be in pain right now.”

  “I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

  “I’m not so sure,” she disagrees. “Let me go try to find you some aloe. I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay,” I agree as I stare up at the ceiling, refusing to move a muscle.

  A moment later, I hear her door open and shut, leaving the room in silence. It doesn’t help that the air is stuffy in here. I would give anything for some air conditioning right about now.

  At least this should give me the day off tomorrow.

  And if I close my eyes and just try to sleep for a few hours, it’ll probably be better the next time I wake up.

  Chapter Six

  Hannah

  I feel so bad for Royal. Since he had a pretty good tan, I didn’t expect for him to burn so badly in the sun. If I had known this was going to happen, I would’ve insisted on lotioning him up.

  When I get back to my room with a bottle of aloe vera, Royal doesn’t even blink an eye. He’s sound asleep, either from the fatigue of the work we did today or because of the burning. I don’t want to wait for him to wake up to get a little relief, though, so I squeeze a glob of the green goo into my palm and then use my fingers to dab it onto his red face first. Once every inch is covered, I start on his arms, then move down to each of his toned legs, getting the front and back of his calves that are strong from years of football. In fact, while my hands rub in the lotion, I sneak a look at his entire body that is hard and cut with muscles from working out. I’ve always thought Royal was hot, but without a shirt on, showing off his flat stomach and trail of reddish-brown hair leading down into his shorts, he’s breathtakingly gorgeous.