His body came into view, and my mouth dropped open.
I’d never actually seen him with his shirt off. He was always sure to wear a long sleeved t-shirt of some kind.
I was surprised as fuck to see tattoos and not scars or something with the way he was meticulous about not showing any of his skin.
“What the fuck, dude?” Foster shoved me to the side.
I shoved him back, and we got into a slight tussling match that landed with Foster on the floor and me straddling his chest.
I took a leftover paintball out of my pouch at my side and slammed it down onto the top of Foster’s head, totally drenching his curly blonde hair with bright pink paint.
“Fucker,” Foster twisted and threw me off of him.
I grinned. “You look good in pink.”
He threw a paintball at me, but it didn’t burst.
Nonetheless, I bent down to pick it up right when the phone in my pocket rang.
“Are we done here?” I asked Luke.
He nodded. “Yeah, got a hot date?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
And I did. With a woman that wanted something from me that I wasn’t sure I should give her.
Something that I wanted more than anything in the world.
Something that had the potential to change both of our lives.
Chapter 7
Sex is like an Olympic dive. Head first.
-Coffee cup
Miller
I walked up Mercy’s front walk with determination. Determination to tell her no. Determination to tell her she was making a mistake.
But the moment she opened the door, eyes puffy from crying, I knew I wouldn’t say no, and I probably never could have.
My hand went up to her face, cupping her cheek in my large, work roughened palm.
A palm that had held the gun that had taken many a men’s lives. A palm that had killed multiple men. A palm that hadn’t ever had anybody touching it that had meant something more to me than a passing glance.
And Mercy was much more than a passing glance.
“Do you know what you’re asking me?” I asked softly, pushing her inside and closing the door.
She nodded. “I know it’s disgusting to have sex with me. The results of the blood tests came back showing that I was clean of all diseases. I know what I’m asking you is wrong. But I can’t. I have to have that option. I don’t know if I’m pregnant, but if I am… I need to know that it might not be his. I need to know that there’s every possibility that it’s yours. My brain needs that out.”
My stomach dropped.
“Honey,” I said, leaning close until our foreheads touched. “Having sex with you doesn’t disgust me. It makes me hot. It makes my palms burn to even think about them running over your silky, smooth skin. But I don’t think you’re ready. I don’t think you’ll be ready for a long time. I’ll wait for you. This,” I gestured between her and me. “This is something good, and it has the potential to be something much more than just a friendship. I don’t want to taint that by moving too fast.”
Her head dropped forward until she was resting her forehead against my collarbone. “Please.”
Every shield I’d erected on the way over here fell, and I knew I would do it, I just needed to make sure this was what she wanted first.
“What if you’re not? What if, in how many ever days, you get your period and all’s well?” I asked, truly wanting to know the answer.
She turned around and ran her hands through her hair.
“When you think about having a baby, you think about two loving parents, making that child out of something special. You think about two consenting people, who although they may not love each other, chose to make that decision to have sex. What if, when the baby grows up, he or she will hear about everything that happened to me? What will I tell her? At least, if we do this…there’s a slim chance that I really won’t know. That the baby could’ve possibly been conceived the right way,” she said desolately.
“The baby might look like him and you’ll know anyway. It might all be for nothing,” I played the Devil’s advocate.
She shook her head. “You’re both tall with blonde hair. Both of you have blue eyes. Please. Just once.”
I looked at her, really looked at her. “If we do this…I’ll always be a part of your life. Part of the baby’s life. Are you ready for that?”
I refrained from saying ‘If there is a baby.’
She shook her head frantically. “I couldn’t ask that of you.”
I moved forward, pressing into her, letting her feel the hard length of me. Hoping that it’d scare her into changing her mind.
“You didn’t ask that of me, I told you. There’s a freakin’ difference,” I snapped.
She shrugged, leaning a little closer to me. Making sure I knew that she wasn’t running away. “I could go find someone at a bar right now. I could do it, but I don’t want just anyone. I want you. I will, though, if you won’t. I can’t live with thinking he was the one to make me pregnant. I need that cop-out. I need that escape.”
I pushed her until she fell back on the couch and I looked her over.
When she went to sit up, I followed her down until my body covered hers.
“You will not do it with anyone else but me,” I snarled, and then slammed my mouth down on hers.
My control was lost. Just the idea of her going to anybody else for this…for her to have yet another man, that wasn’t me, inside of her, was just unthinkable to me.
I couldn’t do it.
I wouldn’t let her do it, either.
She was mine, even if she did think she was just doing this for the escape.
What she didn’t know was that there was no escape. This was it for me.
I knew Mercy was mine, even if she didn’t.
It’d take time, but I’d convince her of that.
In the meantime, though, I’d give her what she asked.
It’d just be icing on the cake if we did conceive a child tonight, because if we did, she’d be stuck with me.
She’d be mine, and there would be a little tiny life that would always connect us. If I was the father or not didn’t matter.
Not one damn bit.
Her small hands came up, lifting my shirt as she went.
“Once,” she whispered again.
I shrugged out of the shirt, disconnecting our mouths for only moments before she was slamming her mouth back on mine.
“Once,” I confirmed.
All of the hesitance I expected from her was nowhere to be seen.
She was hot and crazy.
Her hands were everywhere, and her hot little pussy was rubbing on me, searing me through two layers of clothes.
“I want to be on top,” she pleaded.
I reversed our positions instantly, grabbing a hold of her hips and rolling off the couch.
I landed on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, Mercy’s mouth immediately seeking the softness of my mouth.
Her hands, though, went down between us where she started quickly yanking open the buttons of my jeans.
Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap.
All five buttons came undone in a rush, and my erection that wasn’t clothed in underwear, mostly because they’d been covered in paint, sprung out to greet her.
I hissed when her hand closed around me, fingers soft and smooth, yet strong.
My eyes watched her, taking in her expression, the set of her mouth, and the lines around her eyes. I was watching for any sign of discomfort while trying valiantly to stay in control.
But her urgency, the way she took control of the situation, was making that nearly impossible.
She stood suddenly, stripping off her shirt, followed shortly by the black sleep shorts she’d been wearing when I’d arrived.
When she went to sit down on me once again, my arms lifted and pulled her down, settling her to where
each knee was planted into the carpet on either side of my hips.
My erection now screaming.
My hands, though, held her away as she struggled to move forward. Placing her mouth against mine once again.
“Mercy,” I said, causing her eyes to lift to mine.
“Yeah,” she asked breathlessly.
Her hips started to move, her hot core rolling over my bare cock.
Something that I’d never, ever felt before.
I’d always, and I do mean always, worn a condom.
I never even chanced it, making sure my bare cock and its contents didn’t come anywhere near a vagina.
Which was why it wasn’t surprising that my cock jumped at the contact, primed and ready to go.
“Miller,” she groaned. “What is it?”
I looked into her eyes, seeing no trepidation. No hesitation. Only need. Want. Necessity.
Collapsing my arms until she rested fully on top of me, her pretty nipples digging deliciously into my chest, I let her have me.
I laid back, crossing my arms until my hands rested underneath my head.
She smiled, leaning forward to drag her turgid peaks against the hair of my chest, running them back and forth deliciously slow.
Then she moved up, reaching back until she had my rock hard cock in her hand.
With a slow, delicious movement, she placed the head of my cock against her slick entrance, and slowly sat back.
My length slid inside of her.
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t stop, only pushed down, more and more, until I was seated fully inside. My cock was stretching the walls of her pussy so wide that I was sure it had to be uncomfortable.
But she didn’t have any discomfort showing on her face, only pleasure.
Her eyes dilated, and her hands came down to sit on my chest as she started rocking her hips back and forth.
Undulating on top of me, making her clenching core seem to massage my dick as she moved.
She didn’t so much lift off of me as grind, allowing the head of my cock to hit the back of her, filling her so far that I had to grit my teeth at the realization that she was made perfectly for me.
“Oh, God,” I groaned.
It took everything I had not to reverse our positions, throw her onto her back and force her to take my cock as I rode her hard and fast.
She didn’t need that, though. Not this first time.
Hell, probably not anytime soon. If ever.
“You feel so good,” she breathed. “I didn’t know it could be like this.”
I licked my lips. “Kiss me.”
She leaned down, forcing my cock further inside of her as she gave me the kiss that I asked for.
It was sweet, something that I wasn’t used to having.
Something that I planned to never give up because I found that I liked her brand of sweet.
When she went to pull away, I leaned forward and captured one of her nipples with my mouth, doing a half crunch as she rode me now for real.
Faster and faster until I was sure if she didn’t hurry up and come, I was going to blow without her.
But she came through, leaning back suddenly so my cock tunneled in, hitting a different part of her, and ripping her nipple from my sucking mouth in the process.
She didn’t seem to notice any pain, though, she was too busy clamping her pussy down onto my cock, causing my eyes to cross as I joined her.
My release poured out of me, shooting into her like I’d never felt before.
The wetness of her pussy, and the feeling of her muscles proved too much for my senses. I poured everything I had out of me and into her in short, jerky bursts.
“Unhhh,” I grunted, bucking my hips as she rode me through both of our orgasms.
She collapsed onto me, my cock still jerking in the aftermath, as we both breathed hard.
“I liked it,” she whispered softly.
I snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, I liked it too. A lot.”
She kissed my jaw but didn’t move any more than that, and I found myself not wanting to either.
Here I was happy, and we could act like the real world didn’t exist.
All that was here was Mercy and Me. My Mercy Me.
Chapter 8
I like three things.
1. Tattoos
2. Men
3. Beards
If you have all three of those things…we can get married Tuesday
-Secret thoughts of Mercy
Mercy
My face burned as I thought about how I’d just practically went all dom-woman on Miller.
First, I’d practically forced him to have sex with me. Then I’d mauled him, attacking him like I was a woman possessed. Then I made him go home.
What the fuck was I thinking?
The bad part was that he’d actually left!
Here I sat by myself, fifteen minutes later, wondering what the hell I’d just done, my mind still in a fog.
He’d disappeared out the front door without a backwards glance, and I still sat on the floor beside the couch…his juices combined with mine, leaking out of me, wishing he’d come back.
Just when my mind started to drift towards a place where it really didn’t need to be, keys started jingling near the front door, and then it was thrown wide open.
I managed to snag a pillow off the couch and cover the majority of my body when Miller strode right back in, his arms filled with drinks and food.
“I hope you like hamburgers, because I’m fuckin’ starving. My brother ate all my Captain Crunch this morning, and we’ve been running around all afternoon long. I haven’t eaten since sometime last night,” Miller said as he sat the stuff on the coffee table directly in front of me.
“Not that I don’t like looking at you naked, but you might drip into some questionable places, and I’d have to come over there and lick it off. Then I wouldn’t be eating like I really need to be. I can feel my blood sugar dropping as we speak,” Miller teased as he started pulling out packages.
I watched as he sat a cup, literally a fucking paper cup, full of fries down in front of me. Followed shortly by the world’s largest burger.
“What did you get me?” I asked with wide eyes as I poked at the massive mountain of foil.
“Burger with cheese. Lettuce and tomato,” Miller said around an enormous bite of food.
I shook my head and started unwrapping the burger.
It smelled divine, but I couldn’t help but freak out a little.
He was acting so normal. Like something monumental hadn’t just happened.
Like I hadn’t just had the best orgasm of my life…the first time I’d had sex after being…I squeezed my eyes tightly shut at that thought.
I didn’t want to bring Mitch into this. He had no place in my thoughts anymore. Not ever again.
Except I couldn’t make my heart collaborate with my head. I had tons of reasons I shouldn’t be thinking about Mitch right now. First and foremost, because I didn’t like him. Second, because I’d just had the best sex of my life. Third, because I was pretty positive that I was going to get to do it again if the look in Miller’s eyes were anything to go by.
His eyes hadn’t moved from above my chin the entire time we’d been eating. He’d been staring at my boobs, my belly, and anything he could see over the coffee table.
“You’re thinking too hard. Just let it be,” Miller said, placing his hamburger down and looking at me with sincerity as he said it.
I swallowed hard.
Then my mouth sort of spewed its contents in a massive word vomit.
“I like you. I like you a lot. I want to have sex again, and I want to do it soon. But I feel like I shouldn’t have liked it. I feel like I should be in a corner right now, crying my eyes out because I just had sex for the first time since I was raped. I could be pregnant right now, and you offering me a hamburger instead of thinking this was earth-shat
tering, is just crazy to me,” I spilled.
Everything I was feeling right then was poured out of me and straight into his ear.
He raised his eyes in surprise at me for being so open and honest. “I know you don’t feel that you should’ve enjoyed it…but so the fuck what if you did? Every woman isn’t the same. Yes, what happened to you was traumatizing. And yes, it was tragic…but you don’t have to wallow in your tears to have grieved over what was taken from you. You did that already, and you’ve had the support of your friends. You didn’t like the situation that you were in, so you fixed it. Granted, it was a little unorthodox asking that of me, but I was more than willing. If I wasn’t, then I would’ve told you so. I was mostly worried about you. Don’t beat yourself up, and just let it go.”
I found myself smiling at him. “Isn’t that a children’s song?”
“What? Don’t beat yourself up?” He asked in confusion.
I shook my head. “No, let it go.”
He shrugged. “Who the fuck knows that? I don’t have any kids.”
The unspoken ‘yet’ hung in the air as we started at each other with wide eyes.
I opened my mouth and closed it again, unsure of what the hell to say.
In the end, I decided to eat my burger and find the offer funny.
Nobody could say that Miller wasn’t an honest guy.
“What do you usually get on your burger?” He rumbled, watching me bite into the tasty treat.
I pointed with my free hand at the burger. “This,” I said around a mouthful of food.
“I usually get chili-cheese fries and a milkshake for my sides, though.”
He raised his brows at me. “Now you’re speaking my language!”
I cracked a smile and continued eating, grabbing the million ketchup packets and tearing each individual one open before I started smothering my fries in them.
“That looks gross, though,” he said, eyeing the way that the ketchup drenched the top of my fries. Not a single white space was left.
I shrugged. “I’m a ketchup person.”
He snorted. “That, I can tell. I bet you put ketchup on your eggs, too.”
I grinned around a mouthful of burger and reached for the plastic fork in the bag.
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