Undressing Mercy

by Deanna Lee

  His fingers brushed along the shoulder straps of my bra, then slipped around to unfasten it. The clasp gave away easily to his fingers, and I let the bra drop to the floor. Placing a series of soft and delicate kisses along my neck, he unzipped my skirt and pushed it carefully past my hips. It was like being undressed by soft invisible hands. So gentle and careful, it made my breath catch in my throat.

  I stepped out of the puddle my skirt made and pushed the material out of the way. “Shame.”

  “Yes, Mercy?”

  “What are you doing?” I asked softly, as he knelt on his knees and placed a soft kiss on my stomach.

  “Undressing you.”

  I held onto his shoulders as he unfastened my sandals and removed them one at a time from my feet. Soft whispering fingers moved along my thighs, and he slipped his fingers along the edges of my panties before gently tugging on them and drawing them down my legs. I took a deep breath as I stepped out of them. Shame had reduced me to a mindless girl just by undressing me. My body was burning, my stomach was clenched, and my nipples were so hard it was nearly an agony not to have his hands on them.

  I lay down on the bed as he pulled his shirt off and unzipped his jeans. Once he was free of the jeans and boxers, I could see that undressing me had aroused him as well. His cock jutted thick and hard out from his body. Boy, did I love his cock. Did I love him? I didn’t know if I’d crossed that line, but it felt like a sure thing. This man filled me in many ways.

  He put one knee on the bed and then the other. I watched him, his gaze moving over the length of my body and pausing on my clean-shaven pussy. I hadn’t shaved for a man in years. I’d been so surprised that it had even occurred to me. His fingers brushed over my bare labia and then gently between them before he lowered his head and nuzzled his mouth against that warm, moist flesh.

  I spread my legs and ran my hands over his head as his mouth sank into me. Hell yes, I thought, there was nothing like a man who had a big dick and could eat pussy like a starving man. I moved under his mouth, and his tongue alternately dipped into me and whipped up to tease at my clit. Two blunt fingers pushed into me, and I cried out from the pleasure of it.

  He lifted his head and I met his gaze. His fingers were pushing deep in me, and he watched my body respond, his gaze sweeping over my hips that I couldn’t keep still, to the hands I had clasped on my breasts, then to my mouth. He moved his fingers then and used his thumb to tease my clit. I groaned softly and closed my eyes.

  “No, don’t close your eyes.”

  I opened them again, though it was hard, and met his gaze. I would give him anything he wanted, and we both knew it. I sucked my bottom lip again and jerked against his hand. God, it was killing me—the hot and sweet pleasure of his fingers was astounding and thoroughly painful. It was that sharp, devastating sort of pain that comes when the pleasure is too much and the lust intensifies to a point that makes your insides boil.

  “Don’t hold back,” he whispered. “Tell me how much you like it.”

  I released my lip and ran my tongue over the swollen flesh. “God, Shame, you’re killing me.”

  He laughed and glanced toward the nightstand. “Stay right here.”

  I arched as he pulled his fingers from me and left the bed for a condom. I couldn’t stay still. Rolling to my knees, I crawled to where he stood beside the bed and reached for him. I pulled the condom from his hand and brought him around so I could slip his cock into my mouth. He was big enough that it was difficult to get the head of him in. Running my hands along the length of him, I licked and sucked as much of him as I could get into my mouth until he jerked against me and carefully pulled his cock away.

  When I looked up to his face, I knew he’d felt what I felt. I tore open the condom and pulled the latex free. Rolling it into place with my hand, I squeezed my legs together. My pussy was alternately tightening and relaxing. My body knew what was coming, and it was more than ready to take every inch he had to offer.

  Lying back on the bed, I spread my legs and held my hand out for him. He moved to kneel on the bed, scooted closer, and lifted my hips as he pressed the head of his cock into me. Hot and stinging, the penetration of his cock was exactly what I needed. My body stretched and then consumed him as I wrapped my legs around his waist.

  He kissed my mouth gently as he let me take some of his weight. “Did you shave for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  “I shouldn’t care what you think,” I admitted as he began to thrust in and out of me. The careful stroke of his body was making me feel bereft and victorious at the same time. The combination was startling and so satisfying.

  I arched under him, took the deep thrust of his cock in one shuddering breath. “Yes.”

  “Will you take more?” he asked softly and slid his hands up under my ass. He tilted my hips and sank more deeply into me.

  “Fuck.” I clutched at his back and took in a deep breath. “Baby, please.”

  “Say it.” He stilled and our gazes locked in the dimly lit room.

  My hands loosened on his back and slipped in the dampness I found there. “I want everything you have.”

  And I did. I wanted him in every way possible, and I wondered fleetingly how he’d come to mean so much in so short a time. I wrapped myself around Shame and held on tightly as he pushed his cock in and out of my body. The blending of flesh had never felt more primitive or more right. I rushed wet against his invasion and cried out with the pleasure of it.

  CHAPTER 9

  I ’d spent the night with Shame, which had meant that I’d made a mad dash across town to my apartment to shower and change for work. I was twenty minutes late for work, which was unusual for me. I walked into the gallery and toward the stairs that led to the private offices without a single glance around the floor. As expected, Jane was at her desk. She offered me a tight smile as she stood, grabbed several folders, and prepared to follow me into my office.

  My agenda for the day was full, and I didn’t expect a break until after Milton’s contract expired. He mucked the works up at every opportunity, and the Board would have fired him if it hadn’t been for the generous severance-package clause in his contract. He might be a little troll, but he had his bright moments. Therefore, until he was gone I was left to produce the things the Board expected from me, while not thoroughly burning my bridges with Milton. Milton had his circle of friends, and since some of them spent obscene amounts of money in the gallery, I couldn’t afford to alienate him completely.

  “What’s first?” I asked Jane.

  “An unmitigated disaster.”

  I glanced toward Jane, alarmed. “Such big words before lunch, what’s going on?”

  She bit down on her lip and sat down in the chair she favored. Crossing her legs, she looked at me with a straight face. “Lisa Millhouse had Sarah arrested for trespassing yesterday afternoon.”

  I blew air through my lips as I struggled to keep a straight face. “Did she make bail?”

  Jane looked out the window and seemed to be chewing the inside of her cheek. She cleared her throat. “Yes. The charges were dropped, but a restraining order was filed.”

  “Oh. My. God.” I looked at the ceiling and then let my gaze move out to the bullpen. Sarah’s desk was empty and cleared. “She quit?”

  Jane sighed. “Yes. She threw a genuine conniption fit and packed up all of her stuff.”

  “Conniption fit?” I asked softly.

  “Yes, that’s more than a hissy fit, but less than a psychotic episode.”

  “I love it when you get all southern.”

  Jane laughed and shrugged. I knew she’d spent several years shedding her accent, and had pretty much washed the country right out of her. It was a shame, but I knew why. A woman had a difficult enough time in the art world anyway, without adding “southern” to the mix. Unfair or not, there were a few people out there who thought that southern equaled stupid, or at the very least, so unsophisticated that they wouldn’
t be capable of functioning in the art world.

  “Where’s Milton?”

  “He’s on the phone with James Brooks insisting the gallery sever our relationship with Lisa. To quote him, ‘She’s an uncivilized harridan.’”

  I glanced to my phone and, after a moment, I sighed. “What more could go wrong today?”

  “I’m saving the worst news for last.”

  I focused on her, aware that she was now serious. “Okay.”

  “He’s still here.”

  I didn’t have to ask who. “I see.”

  “He has a meeting with Mr. Storey at ten this morning. I heard from Mr. Storey’s secretary that Storey is going to offer King a job.”

  “As what?”

  “Storey called a Board meeting. He’s going to suggest that Jeff King take his place.”

  “He knows that is my job,” I snapped.

  “Storey has told the board that you’re responsible for the situation with Lisa Millhouse and Sarah’s arrest. He’s drafted a report suggesting that you assigned her to Lisa’s account to get rid of her, and that you conspired with an artist to discredit him.”

  “If I’d assigned Sarah to the account, how is it that I discredited him?” I asked softly, my temper almost at the boiling point.

  “I have no idea.”

  Jane was slumping in the chair when I finally looked at her. I pushed my hair off my shoulders and pulled it up in my hands to keep them busy. After a while, I released my hair and dropped my hands to my lap. “Is Jeff here yet?”

  “Yes, security escorted him to the small conference room.” She smirked as she said it.

  Her pleasure at squeezing Jeff amused me, but I didn’t have enough energy to laugh. Yesterday had been hard, but I’d been able to hold on to the fact that he would be gone again soon. Yet Milton had invited him back into my haven. I suppose because he’d noticed how tense I’d been with Jeff during the meeting. “Milton is such a jackass.”

  “Yes.”

  “I won’t run from them, either one of the bastards. When is James due to arrive?”

  “Mr. Brooks e-mailed me and asked me to make sure you were in the meeting. You have about a half hour to prepare.”

  I stood from my chair. “Okay, let me be alone for a while.”

  I didn’t look back, but I heard the door shut gently. Jane was a unique person, brash and bold when it was least expected, and so damn gracious and soft the next moment. I valued her as my friend long before I had even realized she was my friend.

  When I had awakened this morning, wrapped in Shame’s arms, I’d felt safe and content. The drama of the situation in front of me was almost laughable. My troll boss was trying to maneuver a man who had raped me into a position of authority over me. Yet I couldn’t laugh; not a single part of me felt like laughing. Knowing that Jeff was in the same building with me was sucking the life out of me.

  I jerked as the door to my office opened, and turned to the sound. I thought fleetingly about getting the hinges oiled, again, as Shamus walked purposefully across the room to me. “Hey.”

  He looked around the room. “Mercy, you have a glass wall.”

  I laughed and shrugged. “It is a pain. It’s like working in a fishbowl.”

  Shame sighed and looked around to the bull pen—fourteen pairs of eyes were looking right back. He sighed. “There goes my plan to do something perfectly filthy to you in your office.”

  “I could fire them all and close the gallery.” He laughed and he pulled me into his arms for a hug. I accepted his embrace and sighed into the skin of his neck. “How did you know I needed to see you?”

  “I didn’t.” He touched my face carefully and ran his hand down my neck. “I needed to see you. What’s wrong?”

  “The situation with Milton has come to a head. I have a meeting in about thirty minutes with him, the Board, and Jeff King.”

  “King’s here?”

  “Yes.” I looked at his face and didn’t find the anger I expected. He looked so calm, and so very ready to be the center of my world. I didn’t know what I’d done in my life to deserve him.

  “Why is he here?”

  “That asshole, Milton, is going to suggest him as the new director.”

  “Why?”

  “To thwart me.” I glanced at Jane, who was trying hard not to stare with the rest of the audience. I laughed softly. “He’s such an ass, but unfortunately Jeff is qualified for the position.”

  “Will James Brooks agree to this just to get rid of Storey?”

  “I don’t know.” I hated the admission, but suddenly the place I’d built with the gallery didn’t seem stable. James Brooks would do a lot at this point to get rid of Milton, and I wasn’t sure if that included shafting me.

  “If I kissed you right now, it would probably look bad.”

  My gaze lingered on his mouth as I nodded. “Yes, I suppose it would.”

  “That’s such a shame.” He took a step back from me and then walked to sit in one of the chairs in front of my desk. “I want to stay while you are in the meeting.”

  My knee-jerk reaction was to tell him no, but I paused and allowed myself a moment to think. Shamus Montgomery was one big, gorgeous reminder of what I could do for the gallery. However, all I could really think was that after the meeting was over, I could crawl into Shame and forget about all of them.

  I sat down in my chair as the door to my office opened under the hand of James Brooks. He was a formidable man. When I’d first met him, I’d felt about two feet tall. Standing next to him was still rather ego deflating. I didn’t know what about him did that to me and nearly everyone else I knew, but there it was.

  “James.” I said his name as sort of a plea, and that threw me off balance.

  “Mercy.” He looked at Shame and offered his hand. “Shamus, it’s good to see you here. I was pleased when Mercy signed you.”

  Shame stood and took his hand. “So was I.” Shame looked out into the bull pen. “Mercy was telling me that Storey has found someone he would support as his replacement.”

  “Yes, that is the message I received.” James sat down, slouched in much the same way Shame did, and looked at me. “Give me one good reason why Jeff King can’t be here.”

  The words fell out of my mouth so hard and unrelenting that both men flinched. “He’s a waste of flesh and bone. If the Board were to accept Milton’s recommendation, I would quit and sue you for breach of contract. I signed my contract with the understanding that I would be made director.”

  James cleared his throat and glanced briefly at Shame, who was staring at the floor. “I see. As always, Mercy, you make your point clearly and precisely.”

  “I try.”

  He looked at me then and, to my amazement, laughed. He rubbed his face and then said, “Well, come on then. If I’m going to suffer that ass for the second time in a week, I’m not doing it alone. Want to come along, Shamus?”

  Startled, I glanced between the two men and cleared my throat. “I think Mr. Montgomery would be more comfortable waiting here.”

  James looked at me briefly and then shook his head. “Come along, Shamus. You’ll enjoy watching Storey preen like a peacock. He’s rather good at it. If I were hunting man, I’d shoot him and mount him on my wall.”

  I followed along behind the two of them and glared pointedly at Jane until she hopped up and followed me. If I was going to be involved in this testosterone festival, I wanted backup. Once in the conference room, I sat on the far end, away from all of the men in the room. Only Brooks was on hand from the Board, and since he owned the gallery, he was enough.

  “I wasn’t aware that Ms. Rothell was going to be attending this meeting,” Milton snapped.

  Jane flipped open her notebook and clicked her pen smartly. “Should I write that down?”

  “Yes.” I inclined my head. “I was invited, Milton. So why don’t you just get started?”

  He cleared his throat. “As it may be known, I plan to retire in August.”
>
  Jane snorted, and I looked at her with what I hoped was look of censure. It was hard since I’d had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. We both returned our attention to Milton, who had stopped to glare at us. I cleared my throat and raised an eyebrow.

  “I’ve interviewed Dr. Jeff King and believe he would be an asset to the gallery. His education is above reproach, and he has an eye for beauty.” Milton looked toward Brooks. “I’d like to place Jeff in my role here at the gallery and train him to take my place when I leave in August.”

  James looked at Jeff briefly and then focused on Milton. “As you well know, I will not place the Holman Gallery in the hands of an individual I don’t know or trust. I chose Mercy Rothell to take your place, and in August she will.”

  Jeff straightened in his chair. “I understand. However, I am interested in a position here. With Ms. Rothell moving into the director’s place, her position will be available.”

  James glanced at me and shook his head. “Mercy will choose the person that goes into the Assistant Director position. She’s in the best place to make such a choice.”

  Score two for the home team. I stood from my chair and smoothed my skirt. I said, “I believe we are done here.”

  I shoved my apartment door open with one hip and dumped two bags of groceries on the obscenely expensive table I’d bought for the entranceway. I pulled the door shut and locked it with a twist of my wrist. I was so ready for some alone time. I’d spent an hour with Shamus while he worked and then, after a long and thorough kiss, he’d sent me home.

  It irked that he understood me well enough to know that I needed the space. I felt I barely knew him at all. I took the groceries to the kitchen and started to put them away, which, of course, meant that everything that was perishable went in the refrigerator and the rest was left on the counter.

  Pouring myself a generous glass of wine, I went into the living room and pushed the button on my answering machine. Two hang-ups, an automated phone survey company, and then silence. I looked at the answering machine and jumped when Jeff King’s voice filled the space of my home.