Have Mercy

by N. E. Henderson

  “There is no one like you, Jen. No one gets as wet for me as you do.”

  “Don’t talk about other women when a part of you is inside of me,” I bark out. Frankly, I don’t want to ever hear about him with other women, any woman that isn’t me. I went without that form of intimacy for so long I’m not quite certain I remember how to be with a man. The thought of sharing that part of me with someone that wasn’t Jamie made me sick. I couldn’t do it, yet, he could—countless times, and I hate that so much more than if he’d been faithful to the bitch he married.

  Pulling out of me, his thumb coated in my juices, his fat digit runs back up my folds, stopping at my clit. He circles my flesh, adding the perfect amount of pressure. It makes my eyes roll back, forgetting the zap of anger that had coursed through me seconds ago.

  “I only want you.” His lips slide to my jaw, kissing, nipping. “I only need you.” He moves down my neck, his mouth making out with my body. God, it feels good, and I’m so close to the edge. His path ends, stopping at my breast, and then he takes my nipple between his lips, sucking, twirling his hot tongue around me, nipping and then sucking the pain away.

  “Jesus,” I literally breathe out and then swallow. My chest heaves. Then sparks fly and tingles run from my scalp and down my arms, my orgasm bringing me back alive for the first time in a long time.

  Just when the spasms die down, my eyes pop open as I feel a much bigger muscle slowly transcending inside of me. I watch as Jamie’s eyes flutter closed, enjoying every second as he presses deeper and deeper in my pussy.

  “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he says.

  “And you’re so big,” falls from my lips. Apparently, he likes that admission, because his lips slowly spread, revealing his white teeth. Not that it isn’t true, because he is. I cried like a little bitch when he took my virginity at fifteen; it hurt so bad from his girth. He’s average in length, but he’s thicker than any penis or dildo I’ve ever seen. Being in the FBI, I’ve seen more than I care to admit.

  When he’s seated to the hilt, his eyelids slowly open, the dark blue irises finding mine. “I never stopped loving you. And I never will.”

  His head dips, his lips finding mine as he pulls slowly out of me before driving back home.

  He didn’t wait for me to say it back and I wouldn’t have. In all honesty, I didn’t have to. He can see everything I feel, everything I’m thinking by looking into my eyes. We’ve always been able to tell what’s going on with the other and that hasn’t changed. I can admit to still being in love with him or not and he’d know the truth.

  His hand holds onto my thigh, pressing it to his hip bone as his dick draws in and out, over and over again, slowly taking me back over the edge once again. I’ve never had multiple orgasms this close together before. Giving them to myself, I’m always overly sensitive to try for another. In high school, we were both after the chase and the release. We were both too inexperienced for the most part to figure out how to draw the most pleasure from the other. It was nothing like it is right now. This is so much more than I’ve ever had.

  And I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. This’ll make it that much harder to stop, to turn off. Jamie can easily become an addiction. Addictions are distractions I can’t afford. This can only continue for so long.

  “Please tell me you’re almost there. I don’t think I can hold back much longer. You feel too good. Fuck,” he pants, and it’s enough to tip me over.

  “Yes,” I whisper. The feeling of free-falling hundreds of feet washes over me. “Yes,” I say louder, embracing the sparks, the tingles, the rush. “Oh, Jamie.” I tighten my hands around his shoulders, my nails digging deep, needing inside him just as deep as he’s in me.

  The muscles in my pelvis contracting involuntary, squeezing him. “Jesus,” he says, hot air coating my neck as his voice rushes out.

  When both of us come down from our high, Jamie falls a little more on top of me, his strength gone. Sweat beads on his forehead and his breath comes out of his mouth in quick, short pants.

  “You’re the most perfect thing I’ve ever had. You know that, right?”

  I push on his shoulder, suddenly needing him out of me and distance away from him. He rolls off, landing on the bed next to me.

  Rising up onto my elbows, I roll my head, peering down at where he is lying. “I’m not perfect and you don’t have me. It was just sex, Jamie. And you know what? I’m starved for it, for this, but in the end, that’s still all it is. You and I”—I shake my head and I know it’s adding to the heartache I’m seeing in his eyes—”are in the past. You broke my heart once and I refuse to go through that again. You can accept this for what it is or not, frankly, I don’t care,” I lie. I wasn’t made to not care. Sure, I’ve changed and I’m stronger than I once was, but the truth is I still love Jamie Hart the same, if not more than I did two decades ago.

  “I can’t change the fact that I didn’t believe you, that I didn’t trust you. I wish I could go back in time and redo everything, Jen, but I can’t.” His voice is a plea and stings my chest.

  “Yeah, I know.” I sigh, lifting my back off the bed and getting up. “Life’s a fucking bitch,” I call out without looking behind me as I walk to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me for good measure.

  He doesn’t follow me, and as I wash off, cleaning him off me, I’m thankful. Had he come in here, I don’t know what I would have done, but pushing him away wouldn’t have been one of them.

  I love him and there is a large part of me that wishes I didn’t. I don’t want to feel the things that I do for him. But that’s the thing about love—you don’t choose it, it chooses you.

  I towel off, squeezing the ends of my hair that managed to get wet and then toss the white towel in the hamper before walking back out.

  I stop in the doorway, seeing the man that holds more of my heart than I wish he did, lying on his back in my bed. He’s changed positions; he’s now under the covers with his arm behind his head and his eyes stuck on the ceiling.

  I guess he doesn’t plan on leaving, and I’m too spent to argue about it, so I walk over, crawl over his naked chest and slide under the cover with him, snuggling up to his side and chest.

  If he’s staying, then I’m making the most of it and taking everything I can.

  Jamie is silent and so am I. If it weren’t for the backs of his fingers running up and down my forearm in a slow, measured caress, I’d think he’d fallen asleep. His breathing is even and I’m lost in a trance as I watch the rise and fall of his chest.

  He’s waiting, hoping I open up and reveal more about a past I wish I could forget. Decisions I wish I never had to make. Secrets I wish I never had asked others to keep.

  “Cole found out about Danny . . . ten years ago, I think,” I finally say after a half hour of lying fused to his body. “He was home visiting his parents after one of y’all’s summer tours had ended. I had just gotten to town and picked Danny up from your mom’s. He showed up on your parents’ doorstep to let your mom know that he was going to take Brandon back to California in three days instead of you coming to get him. Neither of us were expecting him. You told your dad, who’d forgotten to tell your mom that Cole was home and would be getting your son. Your dad wasn’t home, and I was chatting with your mom when the doorbell rang. Danny and Brandon opened the door. Their living room connects to the front door, a lot like mine, so it wasn’t a big deal for one of the boys to open the door. I nearly lost my shit when I saw who it was. Cole saw the boys and then he saw me. He stood there, frozen on your mom’s doorstep, staring between me and Danny until anger filled his face. That’s when he fled, and I took off after him. I knew he was going to call you any second and I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “He should have,” Jamie says. Looking at it from his perspective, I get that he doesn’t understand, that he’s angry. Hell, he should be angry, even at me for keeping Danny a secret. Sure, I had a good reason, but that still doesn’t mean it was right to keep
the truth from Jamie. It’s why I couldn’t keep the truth from Danny. I at least had to tell my son about his dad and the reason he wasn’t around like other dads.

  “You live in the limelight, Jamie. Your face is plastered everywhere and there are no secrets from the media that they don’t want to share. Had they discovered you had another child, Danny’s face would have been all over TMZ, Entertainment Tonight, E, and the list goes on. He would have been in every tabloid across the county and the world. I couldn’t take that chance. I couldn’t let the reality that Josh didn’t kill Danny come to light. Danny’s life would have been in grave danger.” I fling myself off him, rolling onto my back. “You can hate me. You can stay angry at me for not telling you for the rest of your life. It still doesn’t change the fact that I did what I know was best in order to keep our son safe.” And his brother safe, but I leave that part out. There are certain things I know Jamie can never find out. I hate secrets. They eat at your soul, and with every year, every minute, every second that passes, the more you lose yourself. I accepted that fact a long time ago.

  “We could have gotten protection. I would have paid anything, gotten the best security out there to protect him and you. You know I would have done that.”

  I lift up, resting my body weight onto my elbow. “I know you would have, Jamie, but the thing is”—I look down at him, wishing he could understand it from my side—”these people take other humans for a living. They can get through security without leaving a trace. I’ve been searching for Josh’s parents ever since I joined his task force. He’s been looking even longer. They are ghosts, phantoms until they find something that they’re attracted to, that they think will bring a large profit. As much as I’m not trying to hurt your ego right now, you wouldn’t have stood a chance, and neither would anyone you would’ve hired. No one knew about Danny. That was the point. No one could know he was still alive.” His eyes squint, trying to read more behind my eyes. “And until I find them and every person connected to their organization, Danny isn’t safe. Danny has to be kept hidden from the light, from your light.”

  “If you think for a second, I’m not—”

  “Mother of God!” I cry out, cutting off his words and throwing my back to the mattress, covering my eyes with my hands. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, raising up on his elbow and pulling my hands from my face.

  “You didn’t wear a motherfucking condom, again, you ass!” I whisper-yell in case the kids are home.

  “Not seeing the issue, babe.” His head shakes in quick succession. “We used to fuck a lot without them.”

  “Which is exactly how Danny came to be.” I draw in a breath, rushing it back out through my mouth. “I’m not on the pill or any other birth control, Jamie.” This cannot and will not happen again. I’m not getting pregnant.

  “Even better,” he deadpans, his voice more serious than I’ve ever heard it.

  “Don’t count on it, Jamie. That didn’t make a difference the first time. Don’t convince yourself it’ll make a difference this time either. You’re just being desperate and reckless.”

  I know him well enough to know that subconsciously or not, he thinks if he can get me knocked up again, not only will he get a second chance, but it’ll also keep him permanently tied to me.

  What he doesn’t understand is that it’s impossible right now—may never be possible. God, how that thought crushes every hope and dream buried deep inside of me. I don’t want that, and if I could control it, I would have been back in his arms way before now. But I don’t. This is what it is—just sex.

  And I’ll tell myself that lie until I’m blue in the face, because the alternative will make this hurt more.

  My job is to keep the boys safe. It’s always been my job above all else. My wants, Jamie’s wants, will always take a backseat to their safety. That’s just part of being a parent.

  29

  — Jamie —

  The questions that I still need answers to haven’t stopped pounding behind my eyes just because I spent the last hour with my dick buried inside goddamn paradise. Sure, they were on momentary pause while I was surrounded with her heat, but now, as I lie stretched out on her bed, Jenna curled up around me sleeping peacefully, my head is anything but at rest.

  I don’t know how I’m going to get any sleep tonight when they still plague every thought.

  Having her here next to me like this is everything I always wanted. It’s everything I’ve needed for what feels like a lifetime of going without. At the same time, I want to turn her over, grab her by the shoulders, and shake all the answers out of that sexy mouth of hers. But then I also want to enjoy every second with her I get. She was wrong when she said this is just sex. I’ve had more one-night stands than I care to remember, even a few casual flings from time to time. What we shared tonight doesn’t fit into either of those categories. Whether she is ready to admit it or not, I’m a permanent fixture in her life from now on—and in her bed if I have any say in the matter.

  Knowing I’m not going to get to sleep, I ease from beneath her and slide out of the bed. After finding my clothes, I pull my T-shirt over my head and pull my pants up my legs. Maybe if I know my boys made it home, then I can at least settle my thoughts enough to get some shut-eye. I seem to have more questions than she is willing to answer at one given time. I worry I’ll never be able to pull out the answers to every one of them.

  Turning the knob on her bedroom door, I slip out once I’ve opened it enough to fit my tall frame through.

  Soft voices stop my bare feet from padding down the hall until I realize it’s my mother and Danny talking. Not wanting to announce my presence just yet, I step to the edge of the hallway but stay in the shadows. It’s dim in the living room. The television is off, but the lowlights above it are on, creating a warm glow around them. My mom is on the couch, the back of her head in front of me. I don’t see Danny, but I know I heard him.

  “You want them back together, don’t you?” I hear Danny ask. “That’s what you’re hoping for.”

  “That’s what I’m praying for,” she clarifies.

  “Why are you so sure he deserves my mom? He threw her away. He broke her heart.” His accusations, though one hundred percent right, pain my chest. “How does that make you think he should get to have any part of her?”

  Because I want it, I find myself answering in my head. Sure, I can agree that I don’t deserve her forgiveness. There is a reason I’ve yet to ask for it. I’m too afraid she won’t give it. And why should she? I didn’t offer her the mercy she once begged for. Why should she show any to me?

  “Because she’s the one, Danny. The only thing, the only one that Jamie has ever loved more than Jenna is Brandon, and now you too; I’m sure of that. They were always meant to be. I think I knew that from the first time he brought your mother over to our house when they were kids.”

  “Well, I’m not as convinced as you are.”

  There’s a soft chuckle that falls from my mother’s mouth. “You will, my boy. You will.” Silence stretches for a couple of seconds. “You are so much like your father. I wish you could see it. You feel as deeply as he does; you love as hard, maybe even harder than Jamie. No one may ever love your mom as much as you do, but give Jamie a chance. He’ll show you that he loves her like she ought to be loved by a man.”

  “On that note, I think that’s enough talk about feelings and such. Besides, I think your son wants to talk to you, Grandma.”

  He knows I’m listening.

  “I’m sure Jamie does. I know he has questions. I know he’s hurt.” She sighs. “And I also know I helped cause that pain.”

  “No,” Danny says. “I think he wants to talk to you right now. He’s been listening to us for a few minutes now.”

  “How did you know I was standing here?” I ask, speaking up.

  “I have ears,” he says as I push my back off the wall.

  “No one’s ears are that good, son.” I step from t
he shadows of the short hallway, coming into the living room.

  “They are if they’re trained to be.” He sits up from where he was apparently lying in my mother’s lap. That surprises me. My son doesn’t come off as the affectionate type. “I’m going to bed,” he declares when I sit down on the other couch catty-corner to the one they’re on.

  Danny stands, stretching his arms over his head, his T-shirt lifting and revealing a tattoo on his right hip that’s mostly hidden by his jeans. I can’t tell what the design is, but I can tell it isn’t small. He’s only seventeen. I didn’t get my first ink until I was twenty. Personally, I think he’s too young for something he could regret years to come. Though, I don’t regret my first one, so who am I to judge?

  Danny’s eyes come down heavy on mine. “If I hear you being mean to her, or upsetting her, I will come back down here and kick your ass.” He crosses his arms over his thick chest, his eyes daring me.

  “Daniel James Thomas,” my mother scolds. “Do not cuss and do not talk to your dad that way.”

  Danny’s eyes flick over to hers, his eyebrow arching. After a second of silence, my son looks back at me. “I meant every word, old man.”

  “I know.” What else am I to say to that? On one hand, I’m proud that he’s so protective of the women in his life—his mom, my mom, his girlfriend. It shows what kind of man he is turning into, and how can I not be proud or not respect that? Though, since his threat was directed at me, a part of me wants to show him that my ass won’t be as easy to kick as he thinks. Maybe he is a good fighter, and I hope I get to see that someday soon, but I’m also a father, his dad to be exact, and I won’t stand for either of my boys to run over me, even the one I just met.

  “Night,” he offers before stepping past me and heading up the stairs to his room. I’m guessing Brandon must already be in bed asleep. I didn’t hear any of them come in, but then, I was busy doing other things, enjoying other things—things I intend to do again when I wake her up in a couple of hours.