by W Winters
“I’ll let you,” he whispers ruggedly as he lowers his lips to the dip in my throat, giving me a chance to breathe easy. And to breathe him in.
“That’s not how you say ‘yes,’ Jase. Or how you make a girl feel secure,” I tease him although my words are still a bit unsteady. He pulls back to look at me, both of his hands still on me as I add, “When she prints out a marriage certificate, you’re supposed to say yes.”
“What if I gave her something else instead?” he asks, reaching into his pocket. “What if it was a tit for tat and I asked her a question to answer her question.” My eyes turn watery as he gets down on his knee and pulls out a small black velvet box.
“I have something for you.”
I can barely speak. “Jase.”
“I love the way you say my name,” he tells me, holding the box in one hand and my left hand in his other.
“I realized when I asked you to marry me, I probably should have done it better. I thought you’d be more willing to say ‘yes’ if there was something in it for you. I didn’t think about a ring or feel like a ring would be enough.”
Tears are warm as they fall down my face and I sniffle before telling Jase, “You are enough, Jase. It baffles me how you don’t see that.” I have to sniffle again before I can tell him that I’ll remind him of it every day for as long as he lives if that’s what it takes.
“Will you marry me?” he finally asks, opening the box. I don’t have time to even look at what’s inside. I need to touch him more than look at his surprise. I need to hold him and for him to hold me.
“I love you, Jase.” I breathe against his shoulder, letting my tears fall to the thin white fabric.
“Say yes, first,” he answers in what should be a playful voice, but feels nervous.
“A million times yes. It’s always been yes.”
Sometimes you meet someone, although maybe meet isn’t quite the right word. You don’t even have to say hello for this to happen. You simply pass by them and everything in your world changes forever. Chills flow from where you imagine he’d kiss you in the crook of your neck, moving all the way down with only a single glance.
I know you know what I’m referring to. The moment when something inside of you ignites to life, recognizing the other half that’s been gone for far too long.
It burns hot, destroying any hope that it’s only a coincidence, and that life will go back to what it was. These moments are never forgotten.
That’s only with a single glance.
I can tell you what a single touch will do. It will consume you and everything you thought you knew.
I felt all of this with Jase Cross, with every flicker of the flames that roared inside of me. I knew he’d be my downfall, and I was determined to be his just the same.
He deserves as much. To have every brick in his guarded walls brought to the ground and be left to turn into something more. I want nothing between us. Nothing but us. Even if that means this world will collapse around us and become a chaos I never imagined.
So long as I’m with him, so long as his touch is within reach, I would give everything else up.
That’s the part that scared me in that first moment.
Somewhere deep inside of me I knew I would be his.
And I’ll do it again and again. In this life and the next.
Jase
You’re welcome for your gift.
It was mine to give all along.
Marcus’s handwriting stares back at me until I crumple the small parchment into my hand.
He’s had a hand in the details, but he’s slipping. More of his intention is showing. It’s contradictory and changes on a whim, but he’s falling. I can feel it.
One small token won’t save him from the consequences of his actions. Our enemies will fall one by one, as they should. Their names will be carved in stone long before I allow anyone I love to meet the same fate.
He’s the one who chose to be our enemy. A gift won’t change that.
Balling up the note, I think back on everything that’s happened. Not just to me, but also to my brothers and to Sebastian. It all comes down to the simple fact that we found irresistible attractions. And all the while, Marcus knew. He used them against us. Each and every one of us.
Sometimes when people are in pain they push love away. Tossing the paper into the metal trashcan outside the old brick building, I think of Sebastian and how much he tried to resist.
Pain makes people go to extremes they know are wrong. Carter is proof of that. Sometimes all life will give you is only a tragedy, but if you have someone to love, someone to hold on to, like Daniel and Addison had each other, then life will go on.
We are only men. Not invincible heroes.
And Marcus is just the same.
He’s in pain like all of us. In fear like we’ve all been in. The answer to finding him, to bringing him to his knees lies in the one thing we’ve given into that he hasn’t.
The girl Officer Walsh can’t get over. The girl who ties him and Marcus together…
That girl will make Marcus fall. I know she will.
Seth will find her. He must.
“What’s wrong?” Bethany’s voice carries through the warmth of the April sunshine as her heels click on the sidewalk. Slipping her hand into the pocket of her jacket, she looks up at me and I can’t resist brushing the hair from her face to cup her chin in my hand.
Before I can lean down to kiss her, she grips my dress shirt at the buttons, fisting the fabric in her hands and bringing her lips to mine. Desire ignites and the burn from it diminishes any other thought, any other need.
That’s how it happens. It’s how love conquers. Boldly, without fear, and with a ruling flame that nothing can tame.
Her lips soften the second they meet mine. Her body presses against my own as well. With a hand on the small dip at her waist I pull her closer to me, leaving nothing between us.
It’s only when she pulls back that I even dare to breathe.
“I want to kiss you like that forever,” she whispers against my lips with her eyes still closed. When they open, she peeks up at me through her lashes and adds, “I want to take my kisses from you every damn day.”
A low groan of approval rumbles up my chest as she twines her fingers through mine.
“Now tell me what’s wrong.”
“A little demanding, aren’t you, cailín tine?” A pang of nervousness worms its way between us. Before it can do any damage, I tell her, “I’m considering Marcus’s next move.” I resist telling her the second piece, but only for a split second. With her lips parted to answer me, I cut her off with, “And ours.”
She doesn’t let go of my hands, but she takes a half step back, letting her head nod. Intensity, curiosity, even fear swirl in her gaze. All the while, I wait for what she’ll say, what she’ll do.
“If you need me I’m here,” she finally answers.
“All I need is for you to follow me,” I tell her and lower my lips to hers. Nipping her bottom lip, the small bit of tension wanes. She may not be involved in what I do, but she’ll stay with me.
I know she will. Because she loves me and she knows how deeply I love her.
Moving my hand around her waist, I’ll make sure she never forgets, never questions what I feel for her.
She won’t go a day without knowing. Her head rests against my arm as we walk, her one hand holding mine, the other on top of our clasped hands.
“It’s all going to be all right,” she tells me, although she stares ahead, noting the Rare Books sign in the window which causes her brow to furrow.
The smell of old books is unique, and it engulfs us as we walk deeper into the aisle. The full shelves of worn and previously read books make rows, but the one shelf at the very back is the one she needs to see.
“What are we doing here?” she questions and lifts her gaze to mine, but I only squeeze her hand in response.
“Jase,” Bethany pushes for more, practically hissing
my name although her steps have picked up with a giddiness she can’t hide, making me chuckle at her impatience.
When I come to a stop in front of the shelves, she brushes against me and steps forward. I watch her reaction to seeing the wall of thin cream pages.
“They don’t have covers?” she whispers and reaches out, her fingers trailing down the fronts of them.
I watch as she swallows, her throat tensing and her lips turning down.
“These are the books with no covers. No titles. They’re only stories.”
Her eyes glaze over, as I’m sure the Coverless Book comes back to her, a gift from her mother and so much more. We may forget words or details, but the way we feel never leaves our memories. I know that book scarred her in a way I can’t imagine although I’m not sure why.
“I wanted to get you another one. A different story to take its place.”
“We drove hours and hours to get a book?” she questions silently, her eyes beseeching me to explain why.
“This is the only place I found on the East Coast that carried unknown books-”
“I don’t want to read another tragedy,” she says and cuts me off. “I don’t want to risk it.”
“You’re going to want to though, cailín tine.”
A second passes and I swear I can hear her heart beating, waiting in limbo for more.
“These books all came from one person’s home years ago. She collected stories that made her feel loved.”
Bethany turns her attention back to the books, back to the stories I want her to read.
“I brought you here because they call this the aisle of hope.”
Seth
With her legs crossed like that, her red skirt rides up higher. It draws my eye and as she clears her throat, noticing my wandering gaze, I let the smirk appear on my lips before carelessly covering it with my hand.
It’s been too long since I’ve been this close to her, face to face. Too many years since she’s sought me out.
My stubble is rough beneath my fingertips; it’ll leave small scratches against her soft skin when I ravage her with the hunger I’ve had for so long.
“Did you hear what I said?” Laura asks. When she got into my car with Bethany, I could feel the waves of apprehension hidden in the silence, the lust that roared back to life when Bethany left us. And we made a deal.
“You said you wanted an exchange. You want to change the details of our deal.”
Her doe eyes beg me to consider, and they hold a vulnerability that her tense curves fail to deliver. She grips both arms of the chair across from me as her chest rises and falls with a quickened pace. She can’t hide the fear of coming back to this life. Of coming back to me.
As her bottom lip slips between her teeth, I note that she can’t hide the desire either.
“I’ve wanted this for too long to consider your proposal,” I tell her, spreading my legs wider and leaning forward in my office chair in the back room of the bar. My elbows rest on my knees as I lean closer to her, only inches away as I whisper, “You know what I want.”
“I can give you something you want more,” she speaks clearly, although her last words waver when her gaze drifts to my lips.
Lies. There’s nothing I want more.
I would have told her that and meant it with every bone in my body, but then she tells me, “I can give you Marcus.”
Seth and Laura’s story starts in Hard to Love! Prepare yourself for your next addictive romance!
There are many moving parts in this world. If you haven’t read Carter’s saga, start the complete series, All He’ll Ever Be, today! His story is just as intense and a tale that will stay with me forever. I hope these words stay with you as well. Keep reading for a sneak peek!
Here’s to love stories keeping our hearts beating.
The timeline of the Merciless world is as follows:
Sebastian’s story: A Kiss to Tell
Daniel’s story: Possessive
Carter’s story: The Merciless Series (Merciless, Heartless, Breathless , Endless )
Jase’s story: Irresistible Attraction Trilogy (A Single Glance, A Single Kiss & A Single Touch)
Seth’s story: Hard to Love, Desperate to Touch, Tempted to Kiss & Easy to Fall
Merciless
Merciless
From USA Today bestselling author Willow Winters comes a heart pounding, edge-of-your-seat gripping, romantic suspense.
I should’ve known she would ruin me the moment I saw her.
Women like her are made to destroy men like me.
Given to me to start a war; I was too eager to accept.
I didn’t know what she’d do to me.
She sees through me in a way no one else ever has.
Her innocence and vulnerability make me weak for her and I hate it.
I know better than to give in to temptation. I should have known that she would change everything.
A ruthless man doesn’t let a soul close to him.
A cold-hearted man doesn’t risk anything for anyone.
A powerful man with a beautiful woman at his mercy … he doesn’t fall for her.
Preface
Carter
“I should have fucked you so much sooner.”
I remember that first day, how she screamed and cried for me to let her go, back when I hated her and she hated me.
Even with my tight grip on her throat, with my touch sending sparks through her body , she forces her head to shake, not taking her eyes off of mine.
“No,” she whispers and my dick hardens even more, begging me to punish her for daring to defy me. But then she adds, “This is how it was supposed to be.”
Her breathing is heavy as she closes her eyes, her body bowed on my lap. She’s completely at my mercy and her pouty lips are there for the taking.
All of her. Every piece of her is mine and she knows it.
Mine.
Merciless Chapter 1
Carter
War is coming.
It’s something I’ve known for over two years.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
A tic in my jaw clenches in time with the rhythm of the clock, while the skin over my knuckles turns white as my fist squeezes tighter. Tension rises in my stiff shoulders and I have to remind myself to breathe in deeply and let the strain of it all go away.
Tick-tock. It’s the only sound echoing off the walls of my office and with each pass of the pendulum, the anger grows.
It’s always like this before I go to a meet. This one, in particular, sends a thrill through my blood, the adrenaline pumping harder with each passing minute.
My gaze drifts from the grandfather clock in my office to the shelves next to it, then beneath them to the box made of mahogany and steel. It’s only three feet deep and three feet tall by six feet long. It blends into the wall of my office, surrounded by old books.
I paid more than I should have simply to put on a display. All any of this is merely a façade. People’s perceptions are their reality. And so I paint the picture they need to see so I can use them as I see fit. The expensive books and artworks, polished furniture carved from rare wood… All of it is bullshit.
Except for the box. The story that came with it will stay with me forever. In all the years, it’s one of the few memories I can pinpoint as a defining moment. The box never leaves me.
The words from the man who gave it to me are still so fresh, as is the image of his pale green eyes, glossed over as he told me his story.
About how it kept him safe when he was a child. He told me how his mother had shoved him in it to protect him.
I swallow thickly, feeling my throat tighten and the cords in my neck strain at the recollection. He set the scene so well.
He told me how he clung to his mother, seeing how panicked she was. But he did as he was told. He stayed quiet in the safe box and could only listen while the men murdered his mother.
He offered to barter for his life with the box. And the story h
e gave me reminded me of my own mother telling me goodbye before she passed.
Yes, his story was touching, but I put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger regardless.
He tried to steal from me and then pay me with a box as if the money he embezzled was a debt or a loan. William was good at thieving, at telling stories, but the fucker was a dumb prick.
I didn’t get to where I am by playing nicely and being weak. On that day, I took the box that saved him as a reminder of who I was. Who I needed to be.
I made sure that box has been within my sight for every meeting I’ve had in this office. It’s a powerful reminder I can stare at as I make deal after deal with criminal after criminal and collect wealth and power in this godforsaken room.
It cost me a fortune to get this office exactly how I wanted it. But if it were to burn down, I could easily afford to replace everything.
Everything except for that box.
“You really think they’re going through with it?” I hear my brother, Daniel, before I see him. The remembrance fades in an instant.
It takes a second for me to be conscious of my facial expression, to relax my jaw and let go of the anger before I can raise my gaze to his.
“With the war and the deal? You think he’ll go through with it and take her tonight?” he clarifies.
A small huff leaves me, accompanied by a smirk as I answer, “He wants this more than anything else. He said they set her up and it’s already happening. Only hours until they’re done.”
Daniel stalks into the room slowly, the heavy door to my office closing with a soft kick of his heel before he comes to stand across from me.
