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Guts & Glory: Mercy (In the Shadows Security Book 1)

Page 15

by Jeanne St. James


  How could one woman get past everything he built? One woman who’d been thrown into his path due to her situation? A woman he never would’ve met otherwise?

  He needed this to stop. He needed to draw back. Remember who this woman was. Why they were here.

  He couldn’t let her make him forget his training, his mission, or even his past. He needed to remind himself this would soon come to an end.

  He couldn’t allow her to draw him under until he began to tumble out of control.

  Because if that happened, he was fucked.

  He didn’t know what would happen if she found that crack in the dam and dug at it until it began to leak. The whole dam could very well collapse and cause a devastating flood.

  He needed to patch any weak points before it was too late.

  But right now, it was too late. What she was currently doing was making him forget, if only for those few moments when she cupped his balls, squeezed his dick tighter at the base and then sucked him as hard as a Hoover.

  He forgot everything as his hips drove forward, stilled, and he shot his cum down her throat. A groan rose up between them that didn’t come from her. Fuck no. It came from him.

  Her eyes tipped up and even though he couldn’t see the color in the dark, he knew what they were. That blue like the sky on a clear summer day. Those eyes that somehow touched his fucked up soul. Then those lips curved around his dick in a smile, no doubt with satisfaction. He wondered if he wore the same satisfied expression. At the moment, he didn’t even fucking care.

  His fingers were still gripping her hair tightly, so he relaxed them and combed through her long strands.

  She hadn’t gagged once, she hadn’t spit out his load. She kept him in her mouth, almost as if she was savoring him, or at least the taste of him. That in itself made him want to bend her over and fuck her hard, but they didn’t have time and he wasn’t capable of that right now, anyway.

  As he began to soften, she let him slip from between her lips, and her smile was still there, her eyes soft. Which scared the living fuck out of him.

  He couldn’t allow her to share that softness because he couldn’t allow himself to accept it.

  He released her hair and reached down to help her to her feet. When she stood, she pressed both palms flat to his pecs and he knew what she couldn’t miss, his heart wanting to escape his chest.

  It was no longer pounding due to his orgasm, but because the darkness was rushing in, the panic starting to seep into his bones, the cage starting to close.

  If it did and became locked, he’d never escape.

  “...an... yan... Ryan... Mercy!”

  He shook his head and focused on Rissa. An overhead light now lit up the dank kitchen and he realized the switch had been right inside the door within reach. She didn’t even have to move to turn it on.

  He blinked at her and the softness in her face was gone, her brows were furrowed with a look of concern. Her lips were moving, and he had to concentrate to hear what she was saying.

  “Someone’s beating on the door.”

  Fuck.

  He heard it then. The noise finally sank into his foggy brain. He jerked up his cargo pants and fastened them.

  His cell phone vibrated in his back pocket. He pulled it out to answer it. “Yeah,” he barked into his phone as he strode to the front of the house. Which wasn’t that many steps, apparently. With a quick glance, he realized the cabin was one big room and it was like he feared...

  Dated and unkempt.

  “I’m outside, asshole. Open the door and help me bring the shit inside.”

  The phone went dead at the same time he twisted the lock in the knob and yanked the front door open. The place didn’t even have deadbolts.

  Fuck me.

  He hit a switch by the front door and a bare bulb lit up Ryder as he stood with a shit-eating grin on his face and a large box in his arms. “About time. I texted you like five thousand times. Been pounding on the door for—”

  He knew the exact moment Ryder spotted Rissa.

  Mercy’s lip curled as Ryder let his gaze slide from the top of her light brown hair, pause at a few extra curvy spots, slide the rest of the way to her toes and then back up where it again hesitated on her rack. “Damn,” he murmured, his eyes landing on Mercy before he smiled big.

  Mercy grabbed the box from him and dropped it to the floor. He shoved Ryder outside and slammed the door closed behind them.

  “Thought you were handling DC?” Mercy growled.

  They had several reasons why they’d given Kelsea the call name “DC.” One, it was short for “Diesel’s cousin.” Two, the acronym meant disorderly conduct in law enforcement circles, and if Kelsea was anything, she was disorderly. The third? The woman had been doing so much dumb shit lately that... Hell, the last reason wasn’t kind but it unfortunately fit. D wouldn’t be so happy about the last reason. But then they tried not to use her nickname around him. Because, fucked up or not, Kels was still Diesel’s blood.

  “Was. Handled it. Just waitin’ for the next time, which I’m sure I’ll get the fuckin’ call. Again.”

  Mercy shook his head. “Fucking bitch is gonna end up dead, or something will happen to her and she’ll be wishing she was dead.”

  Ryder, with his jaw tight, didn’t say anything as he strode back to what looked like a full-sized rental van. The sliding side door was open and at least half a dozen more boxes of supplies could be seen inside. Plus, Rissa’s luggage and his duffel.

  That seemed to be way too much stuff for one or two nights. “What the fuck? We need all that shit? The boss didn’t get an update from Paranzino?”

  They both grabbed a box and headed back to the cabin.

  “Oh, he heard from him.”

  Mercy stopped at the front door and, using his body, blocked Ryder from opening it. “Leave it there. I’ll bring them in once the van’s unloaded.” He did not want Ryder eyeballing Rissa again.

  Ryder stared over his shoulder at the door for a second, then looked up at Mercy with a twisted grin. “Got it, brother. Stakin’ your claim.”

  “Ain’t staking shit.”

  “Right. It was pretty fuckin’ obvious in there. You lookin’ like you were about to rip my head off with just me checkin’ her out.”

  “You were seeing things.”

  “The fuck I was.”

  They dropped their boxes and headed back to the van. “So, what’s the news?” They each grabbed another box and headed the short distance up a brick walkway that should’ve been replaced twenty years earlier. There wasn’t one evenly set brick. It was a broken neck waiting to happen, especially in the dark.

  “Once D stopped his bellowin’, he said that Paranzino’s men lost track of about half of this other asshole’s men. Nicco, I think his name is. Though, D was yellin’ like normal, so I couldn’t be sure. Paranzino took out about five. Thinks there’s at least another five but doesn’t have a good number. Nicco went to ground and could’ve taken some of his men with him. Also could’ve put some of them on the woman’s trail. Thinkin’ we need to step in and get this job over with.”

  Mercy nodded. “Yeah. Me, too. Gotta run it past D first.”

  “He’s not gonna wanna do it without some sort of payment from Paranzino.”

  “Then someone needs to convince Paranzino to pay up. You get what you pay for. Fucker should know that.”

  “Maybe your woman can call and convince him.” Ryder eyed the cabin. “I’m sure after a couple nights in this shit hole, she could be very convincin’.”

  “First off, she ain’t my woman. Second, not sure if I want her in direct contact with Paranzino.”

  “Why? Is the asshole gonna be pissed that you stuck your dick in his piece?”

  “He might be if he didn’t have a husband. And he only swings that direction.”

  Ryder stopped in his tracks, then laughed and nodded. “Yeah. Guess he won’t care that much then. Just gotta deal with Diesel if he finds out.” This time th

ey were headed back with the bags. “Though, not sure why D would care as long as he’s gettin’ paid.”

  “Once he’s got the scratch in his hand, he probably won’t.” Or at least, Mercy hoped that was true. He didn’t need to go a few rounds with Diesel. They’d probably be evenly matched, but he liked his job and wanted to keep it, especially since it paid well.

  “But you aren’t gonna wait until the job’s over to bone her.” Ryder stopped on the cracked concrete stoop in front of the door. “Daaamn. You broke your own rule, didn’t you?”

  Mercy ignored his question. “Thanks for the delivery. Got it from here.” He adjusted his duffel bag’s strap more securely over his shoulder and took one of Rissa’s suitcases from Ryder.

  “Brother, you’re allowed some fuckin’ happiness. And from what I saw, that would make me pretty damn happy. Again, I saw your reaction. You might wanna ignore it but it was as plain as day. You laid your claim.”

  “This conversation’s ending right now.”

  Ryder laughed. “Hey, maybe me and a couple of the guys should stake out this place. Grab some tents, set up in the woods, keep an eye out. Haven’t slept in a tent for a while. Though, I’m sure any tent’s nicer than where you’re gonna be sleepin’. But then, you’re gonna have a nice piece sleepin’ next to you. Did notice there’s only one bed.” He snorted. “Doubt you’re gonna get any sleep, anyhow.”

  “You fucking done?”

  Ryder shot him a smart-ass grin. “For now. But, seriously, if you think it’s smart, we could break out the campin’ gear and make a vacation out of it. Wouldn’t mind some shootin’ practice on some actual movin’ targets. It’ll get me ready for buck season.”

  “Think I can handle it. Unless D gets an update that indicates they got a bead on us. Then whoever’s available needs to haul their asses in this direction as backup. Got me?”

  “Yeah, brother, got you.” Ryder paused as he began to return to the van. “At least you’re gettin’ a piece of tail out of this job. My recurrin’ nightmare of a fuckin’ job only gives me a fuckin’ headache,” he muttered over his shoulder.

  Ryder calling Rissa tail made Mercy’s whole body go tight. He waited until he saw the taillights of the van disappear before he opened the front door and began to haul the delivered shit inside.

  He dumped their bags next to the one and only bed that sat along one wall in the wide-open space of the cabin. It wasn’t even a fucking big bed. It might be a queen, which sucked since he was six-foot-three and two-hundred and sixty pounds. He doubted he was going to sleep anyway, but still...

  He had plans for that bed. He eyed the ratty couch that sat in front of a pot-bellied wood stove.

  Rissa’s husky voice came from behind him. “I can’t find the thermostat for the air conditioning.”

  He turned. She had her long hair piled on top of her head, which made her look really cute as she fanned herself with her hand.

  Fuck with this “cute” shit. He hated “cute.”

  Fucking motherfucker.

  He unclamped his jaws to ask, “You see any vents that indicate this dump has air?”

  She glanced around, then pursed the lips which had so expertly sucked him off just a little while ago. “Not even a window unit!”

  “There’s a fan sitting in the corner.”

  “We’re going to need that pointed at the bed,” she murmured.

  Yes, they were.

  “Otherwise, I won’t be able to sleep,” she continued. “I’ll be melting all night long.”

  “Sleep naked,” he suggested.

  She arched an eyebrow in his direction. “Is that what you plan on doing?”

  “Yep,” he lied as he eyed the bare mattress. “Gotta bring in the rest of the supplies. Find some clean sheets and make the bed. Check to make sure the bathroom has a toilet that flushes and hot water to wash my cum out of you when I fuck you hard later.”

  Her sexy little mouth dropped open.

  One side of his mouth curled up. “Now, I’m smiling.” As he moved past her, he smacked her ass hard enough it had to sting. Then he brought in the rest of the stuff that would have to tide them over for the next couple days.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mercy and Parris – 0; rickety bed – 1.

  Of course, they already broke the unstable bed. It didn’t take more than two nights of heavy activity. In fact, she was surprised it lasted even that long. And until Mercy could find some cinder blocks or bricks, or whatever, to brace the corners of the bed frame that could withstand their non-stop sexual escapades, they had to make do elsewhere.

  Since they had been five minutes into their latest round of sex when it finally collapsed, neither wanted to take a break for him to do just that.

  Which meant Parris now had her ass planted on the counter (after she cleaned it) with her back pressed against the top cabinets (with a knob jammed into her shoulder) and he was pounding her so hard her head kept bouncing off the cabinet door.

  It was a small price to pay since she didn’t want him to slow down or be more gentle. She liked it just the way he was giving it to her. She’d been with too many men who had treated her like she was breakable. It was refreshing that Mercy didn’t treat her as if she was, since there was nothing fragile about her.

  Every time he pounded his cock deep, Mercy grunted, and her pebbled nipples brushed against the hot, damp skin of his very muscular, very lickable chest. She found this was a very good use of a kitchen.

  Kitchens seemed to have become their theme, though she wasn’t complaining. Cooking, eating, fucking. The perfect multi-purpose room.

  However, this kitchen wasn’t really a “room.” The whole rat trap of a cabin had an open floor plan. Privacy was nil unless you went into the bathroom since it had a door. Unfortunately, it was only about a third of the size of her walk-in closet at home. On the plus side, the toilet flushed without issue (so far) and there was hot water for showers. While the shower curtain did have mold along the bottom edge, she ignored that (pretending it didn’t exist).

  The sheets she found in the cabin’s one and only closet had smelled like moth balls. The fridge stank like it had stored a dead body for over a week. And she couldn’t forget the trails of mouse droppings (at least she hoped it was a mouse and not a rat) along the edges of the walls. Joy.

  This was no romantic getaway. But then, it wasn’t meant to be. The purpose of their stay was to keep her breathing. And anyway, Mercy probably didn’t have a romantic bone in his very powerful, very orgasm-inducing body. Plus, the only bone that mattered right now was the one he kept thrusting into her.

  His face was buried in her neck, his breath warm and damp as it beat along her skin. She had one hand wrapped around his neck to hold him there, and another along his back, where her nails drilled into his skin. She had discovered the deeper she clawed him, the more he liked it. While he didn’t come right out and say it, she could tell by his response.

  With a hand cupping one of her ass cheeks, he held her right where he wanted her and the other squeezed her breast firmly while his calloused thumb scraped back and forth over the very sensitive, tightly beaded tip.

  Since this was the second round of sex in the span of an hour, this time he had amazing endurance. They’d been at it for a solid ten minutes, in which she had already came twice. Once in the beginning, a second time a few minutes in. And now she felt another building. It was the perfect angle and the right hip action that was pulling these multiple orgasms from her. He could power up and into her like nobody’s business. Add those low, caveman-like grunts...

  A tremble began deep inside her, then she gasped as her third orgasm shattered outward from her center. Her back arched and her fingers, her muscles, her pussy convulsed, but he didn’t let up and continued to use his powerful thighs to drive himself up and into her.

  He pulled his face from her neck, sliding his cheek along hers until his mouth was at her ear. He growled, “That was five.”

  Like
she hadn’t kept count on her own.

  “Three,” she gasped as the waves rocking her still had her quivering like jelly.

  “Two earlier.”

  “One wasn’t an orgasm; it was the bed crashing to the floor.”

  His hips stilled. “Bullshit.”

  She was about to smack his delicious ass to get him moving, but he began to pump again. She smiled because she knew he couldn’t see it. “I’ll give you credit for four.”

  “If I give you another one, you’ll let me take your ass.”

  She sucked in a breath. “I counted wrong. It was five.”

  “Yeah, thought so.” The “so” was drawn out and his warm breath tickled her ear, making her shiver. He drove into her again and again until finally a “Rissa” escaped him on a breath.

  She shivered once more, this time because of how he said his nickname for her. It came out almost sounding desperate. And that couldn’t be right.

  “Yes?” she whispered.

  Maybe she had imagined it because his next words were back to being a sexy, low growl. “Going to give you another one, anyway, and when I do, I’m going to come deep inside you.”

  “Yes,” she sighed in total agreement. He’d get no argument about that from her.

  “Tell me when you’re coming this time. Say my name when you do it.”

  Her heart began to thump wildly at his unexpected request. She didn’t think he liked it when she used his real name.

  Was this becoming more than “only sex” for him?

  They’d only known each other for a few days. It couldn’t be more. Could it?

  He was a once and done type of guy. No attachments. Cling-free like a fabric softener sheet, she reminded herself.

  With a strained grunt (apparently she needed to eat more salads instead of carbs), he picked her up and, amazingly enough without breaking their connection, kicked a chair away from the small 1970s Formica kitchen table, then sat on it with her straddling his lap.

 
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