by Zoe Chant
And he was so hot that sometimes she didn’t know what she was doing when she looked at him. Her mouth watered when she looked at the bulge of his biceps beneath his t-shirt, the way his jeans hugged the thickness of his thighs.
And now, she’d fucked everything up before she’d even had a chance to start anything.
Shit. Shit.
Taking in a shaking breath, Mercy tried to talk sensibly to herself.
You’re having a panic attack. That’s it. You haven’t fucked anything up. Just go out there now and explain it to him. If he’s as good as he seems, he’ll understand. He will. Please. Just get up. Get up...
But try as she might, she couldn’t make her legs obey her. She felt frozen, her stomach filled with cold concrete, her knees too weak to lift her.
I can’t.
Mercy started at the sound of a soft knocking at her door.
“Mercy? Mercy, please let me in.”
Dante.
So he’d followed her up here after all. His voice was low and throbbing with concern. Somehow, Mercy thought that she could feel his worry for her in her own heart, wrapping it in warmth.
That didn’t make any sense – but nonetheless, Mercy could feel her racing heart beginning to slow, her breathing becoming deeper.
“I – I’m fine,” she called out, knowing that her voice was shaking. “Please, just – I’ll be fine. I just need a moment.”
Swallowing, Mercy roughly swiped at her cheeks with her hands, trying to wipe away the evidence that she’d been crying. Not that it would do any good – anyone would be able to tell at a glance that she’d been bawling like a baby. Her eyes were red and puffy, her breath hitching in her throat.
“Please, Mercy. I can help you. Let me in.”
Mercy closed her eyes. She wanted to, desperately. The thought of looking into Dante’s green eyes, of feeling his arms around her... she wanted it more than anything in the world. But she couldn’t let him see her like this.
She couldn’t show him how weak she was.
“Don’t come in,” she muttered, closing her eyes. “I just want to be alone.”
It wasn’t true. With ever fiber of her being, she wanted Dante to walk through the door and take her in his arms. But she’d never been able to let anyone see her when she got like this. If people knew, they wouldn’t think she was reliable anymore. She’d already lost being a nurse because of this. She refused to lose anything else.
“Mercy.” Dante’s voice was soft, but strong. “I’m going to come in in a moment. If you want me to go after that, I’ll go. But I need to make sure you’re all right.”
Mercy couldn’t bring herself to say anything in response. Her panic exploded through her stomach, making her feel like she was going to throw up. She wanted to curl in on herself until she disappeared – anything to take away this sick feeling inside her, the pain in her chest...
“Mercy.”
Dante’s voice saying her name was like a rope thrown into the ocean she was drowning in. It took her a moment to realize that he was saying it close to her ear, and not through her closed bedroom door – that the warmth on her face wasn’t only her tears, but also the softness of his breath. Mercy bit her lip. She wanted to uncurl herself and look him in the eye, but she couldn’t.
“You don’t have to do anything, Mercy. Just know that I’m here for you. If you want me to go, I’ll go. But if you want me to stay, I’ll sit here with you for as long as you need me.”
The words juddered through Mercy’s chest like the beat of her heart. She felt fresh tears prick at the corners of her eyes, but this time, it wasn’t because panic had her heart in a vise.
No one had ever said anything like that to her before – never in her life.
But it’s because you won’t let them, she told herself a moment later, the part of her brain that was still functioning normally gently chiding her. You never let anyone know just how bad these things have gotten. You didn’t even want to let Dante see you just now.
It was true. She hadn’t even wanted to tell the therapist she’d briefly seen after quitting her job at the hospital how she felt.
Her fear of being seen as weak or unreliable had overtaken everything else. She had too many responsibilities for that. Tai and her other staff, Jessa, Jimmy, the kids – they all needed her. They all thought she had things together. What would they think if they could see her now?
“They’d want to help you. They’d want to know what they could do to take the pressure off you until you felt better.”
Mercy opened her eyes, raising her head in surprise.
Dante had answered her questions as if she’d spoken them aloud. Had she? She found she wasn’t sure.
“I – I just –” she stuttered, not sure how to explain herself. Looking into Dante’s green eyes, she felt a small measure of calm entering her heart. The deep breaths that had been eluding her came more easily now.
“I just don’t want them to think they can’t rely on me,” she finally managed to say, her voice small. “Some of the kids I look after... they don’t have a lot of adults they can look up to. What would they think – how could they –”
She cut herself off, not sure how to continue.
Dante was silent for a time, but his presence next to her, warm and solid, was a comfort nonetheless. Mercy allowed herself to drink it in, drawing comfort from his closeness, from the sheer size and masculinity of his form. Part of her yearned for him to hold her, but another part of her knew she wasn’t ready to be touched just yet.
“I don’t know, Mercy,” Dante said eventually. “Maybe they wouldn’t understand right away. But nothing about this changes who you are – what you’ve done for them.” He paused, and Mercy felt him shift next to her. “Nothing about this changes anything. You’re still strong. You’re still capable. I still mean it when I say I’ve never met anyone as dedicated or as brave as you.”
His words pierced her heart. “How can you mean that?”
“Of course I mean it.” Dante’s response was immediate. “Just today you’ve stood up to a gangster, you’ve fed kids who maybe wouldn’t eat otherwise, and you’ve spent your day running from place to place organizing people for a fundraising opportunity. That’s just today, Mercy. I might have only known you for a short time, but I know who you are. I’ve seen everything I need to know.”
Mercy licked her lips, looking up into his face. His expression was serious – and his eyes, beautiful and emerald green, seemed almost luminescent as he gazed down at her.
“I – thank you,” she managed to get out. And she meant it. She wasn’t sure why, but Dante’s words and expression left no room for doubt in her mind that he meant what he said. Against his certainty, the small voice within her that told her he’d think she was weak and useless crumpled up and died. How does he know just what to say?
A small smile quirked at the corner of Dante’s mouth. “Maybe it’s because I’ve never been very good at accepting help myself,” he said. “I’ve rejected it when I should have taken it. I wish I’d had someone to talk some sense into me then.”
Mercy couldn’t stop herself from laughing a little, feeling a lightness come into her heart. She was so overwhelmed by it that she didn’t even stop to think that she hadn’t voiced her question aloud. “So that’s what you’re doing, then – talking some sense into me?”
“If that’s what telling you just how amazing you are is, then I guess I am,” Dante said. “As long as you believe it.”
Mercy took a long, deep breath. “I do.”
She was surprised to find she meant it. Or at least, she believed that Dante meant it. He said it with such confidence, his eyes looking down into hers with total certainty. And when he did, it was hard for her not to find just a tiniest sliver of belief in her own heart, too. She had always had trouble believing that she was doing enough, being enough, even when she felt that she was running herself ragged. But even so, she knew she couldn’t do everything.
&nb
sp; Accepting that fact... well, that was harder.
But looking up into Dante’s eyes now, Mercy wondered if she might finally feel strong enough to admit that sometimes, she needed help – she needed to let go.
Her heart was no longer beating wildly in her chest, and the feeling that she had cold concrete filling her stomach began to dissipate. She could unclench her hands.
“Good.” Dante’s tone held a note of finality. “Because it’s true. You are strong, Mercy. Maybe the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
It wasn’t until she felt the soft, warm puff of his breath on her cheek that Mercy realized just how close they had drifted together.
When did that happen? she thought dazedly as she looked up into his eyes, gazing intensely down into her own.
Mercy felt the last of her panic attack melting away, a different feeling altogether settling in her stomach. Dante’s proximity to her made her heart hammer in her chest, but this time, it was a pleasant feeling. It was a beating of excitement and anticipation, rather than one of dread.
God, I want to kiss him.
She’d felt that way almost since the very first moment she’d laid eyes on him, of course – after she’d made sure he wasn’t about to bleed to death in her kitchen. Her powerful attraction to him hadn’t abated. If anything, it had grown stronger the more time she’d spent with him. Sure, he was hot – anyone with eyes could see that. He was tall and broad and muscular, and his green eyes and dark hair made for a striking combination. His air of unbound masculinity made her mouth water. But he was also kind, supportive, and protective. He’d done more for her than she ever could have dreamed of.
“Dante, I –” she began, but found that the part of her brain that was responsible for forming words or rational thoughts had fled. The only thought in her head now was Fuck, I want him so much.
And even that was wiped out as Dante’s fingers touched her chin, tilting her face up to his – and then his lips came down to hers, sealing them together in a searing kiss.
If she’d been able to, Mercy would have gasped at the heat of his mouth on hers. The kiss was like nothing she’d ever felt before – intense and passionate, and utterly irresistible. It was just as well she was already sitting on the floor, she thought vaguely, because if she hadn’t been, her knees would have buckled beneath her.
She opened her mouth wider as Dante deepened the kiss, his hands coming up to cup her jaw, his callused thumbs stroking over her cheeks. Mercy found herself helpless under his touch. Her life had been so taken up by work that she had never found much time for romance after she’d graduated from high school, but even with the few partners she’d had since then, Mercy had found it difficult to let herself go. Letting go had meant being vulnerable and opening herself up to another person: something she had never found easy.
But with Dante, it seemed like the easiest, most natural thing in the world.
She groaned as she felt the heat of Dante’s body against hers, tilting her head back and raising her arms to pull him closer to her. She filled her hands with the hard muscle of his shoulders, marveling at the warmth of his skin through his t-shirt. She wanted nothing more than to yank the fabric right off his body and feel his skin against hers.
Mercy pulled back slightly, surfacing from the kiss and gasping for breath.
“Mercy.” Dante’s voice was little more than a low rumble in his chest, and she shivered at the sound, heat pooling low in her belly. She could already feel that she was soaking wet between her thighs. With just a kiss, Dante had her more worked up than she had been in years.
“I want you,” she whispered, raising her hand to Dante’s face. He returned her gaze, the smoldering heat in his eyes almost unbearable.
“Mercy – there’s something –”
Mercy only shook her head. “Save it. I don’t want to talk right now. I just – I just want –”
Dante seemed to understand her half-worded wish. His lips came down to hers again, recapturing them in another blazing kiss.
Yes, was the only thing Mercy could think as he kissed her. Yes, yes, yes, yes.
Everything about the kiss felt completely and utterly right. But still, she wanted more.
Guided only by instinct, Mercy skimmed her hands down Dante’s sides, feeling the dips and grooves of his muscle. She found the bottom edge of his t-shirt, pulling it up. Dante’s hands were doing the same with her own shirt. He broke the kiss only long enough for him to yank it up over her head and toss it aside, before his lips were back on hers once more.
She felt something warm pressing against her skin and pulled back a little, her eyes darting to the flash of gold against his chest.
It was a small pendant – or an amulet, she supposed – hanging on a golden chain around his neck. It was small and simple, but it was beautiful. She hadn’t noticed it before, hidden as it was beneath his t-shirt.
“Do you like it?” he asked, as Mercy, as if guided by instinct, raised her hand to touch it.
“It’s lovely,” she said truthfully. “I guess I just didn’t figure you for the jewelry-wearing type.”
“It’s... a family thing,” Dante said, his voice low. “I was found with it as a baby. The only thing I had to remember my parents by.”
“Oh God, I’m sorry,” Mercy said at once, eyes going to his face. “I didn’t know.”
Dante just shook his head. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it – I got used to it a long time ago. But I always wear this. It reminds me of who I am. Who I really am.”
Mercy swallowed, nodding. “I’m glad you have something from your parents,” she said. Tentatively, she raised her hand again, running her fingers over the amulet’s lightly filigreed surface. It was warm beneath her touch – and, strangely enough, Mercy somehow thought she could feel a tingling in her fingers. It was almost the same sensation as she had felt when Dante’s skin had touched hers for the first time, the other night in the kitchen...
He looked down at her, as if searching her eyes for the answer to some question he hadn’t asked her aloud. But whatever he saw there, he apparently found what he was looking for, and leaned down to kiss her once more.
They continued to kiss fervently as they fumbled with the rest of each other’s clothes. Mercy gasped as Dante’s fingers found the buttons of her jeans, opening them up and sliding them down her thighs.
She cried out as his fingers brushed against her skin – even that light touch was enough to send a wave of pleasure through her. Her hands flew to the fly of his jeans. Mercy swallowed heavily as she took in the sizeable bulge between his thighs, her mouth watering.
Everything was a blur as the last of their clothes came off. Mercy cried out once more as Dante’s mouth dipped to her breasts, taking a sensitive nipple gently between his teeth. She clutched at his back as he teased her, his tongue rolling over her peaking flesh.
Never before had Mercy felt so unbound as she did right now. She had always had someone relying on her. Even when she’d been young, she’d never felt young – she’d virtually raised herself, since her parents were so unreliable, regulating her own study hours and holding down a part-time job just as soon as she’d reached working age. Even her high school relationship with Roy had been one of regularity and restraint. And ever since she’d graduated, she’d worked, and worked, and worked.
She had realized at some point that she was heading for burnout, but even knowing that, Mercy hadn’t been able to make herself slow down or ask for help. She’d never been able to let herself rely on another person.
But now...
The thoughts that had started to crowd her mind gave way to a rush of pleasure as Dante’s big, callused hand slid over her thigh, over her hip, to the curve of her buttock. He pulled her forward onto his lap, his mouth once again locked on hers.
She moved forward, straddling his hips, gasping into his mouth as she felt the massive hardness of his erection rising between them.
“Mercy,” Dante said in a hoarse whis
per, breaking the kiss. He looked at her, his eyes seeming to drink her in. “God, you are so beautiful.”
Ordinarily, Mercy might have felt cynical about a man’s declaration of her beauty. But when Dante said it, there was no room for doubt. The truth of his words swelled her heart, and only increased her desire for him – something that, five seconds ago, she wouldn’t have thought was even possible.
She closed her eyes as he lowered his head to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing gently over the pulse in her throat, his fingers playing over her skin and making her shiver.
Despite his massive size and obvious strength, he was gentle with her as he touched her, his hands and lips reverent as they sent spirals of pleasure coursing through her. Ordinarily, she would have wanted to stay like this forever, shivering and moaning beneath his touch. But now, Mercy knew she couldn’t wait. She wanted him desperately – wanted to feel him inside her, filling her up to the brim.
Mercy found herself on her back, Dante covering her body with his own. It was as if he had read her mind, and knew instinctively what she wanted.
“God, Dante – please – I need you –” she gasped out, unable to wait even one second longer.
And Dante didn’t make her.
He pushed into her at once, his massive cock sliding into her easily. Even as big as he was, she was so wet, so ready for him that they fit together perfectly. Mercy cried out in pure ecstasy as she felt him within her at last, her fingernails digging into his back, her legs squeezing his hips, urging him to move.
Dante groaned as he made his first thrust, his voice low and deep, emerging from his mouth as little more than a growl. The noise turned her on more than she could say – she’d seen Dante fight, and she knew how dangerous he could be when he wanted to be. He was clearly built for fighting, and he’d done a lot of it – his muscles and his scars were testament to that. But the hands and body that had been used to inflict pain on the men who had come after her were now working only to give her pleasure, sending wave upon wave of it through her every time he moved.