Grace Between Mercy

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Grace Between Mercy Page 17

by S. Ferguson

“Yesss.” I moan, moving my head back and forth, my hips once again rocking and bucking to get him into my wet entrance.

  “Not yet,” he teases, moving his cock away. My legs wrap around his hips to pull him closer.

  “Please.” My eyes water with need. “I need it.”

  “And you will fuckin’ have it,” he replies as he lines up with my hole, thrusting in, lifting my ass off the bed, holding me there with his hands on my hips. My head falls back against the bed as I feel the pleasure surge through me, a second orgasm rolling through me.

  “It’s too much,” I beg, overwhelmed in sensation.

  “It’s never too much.” He groans, thrusting into me hard, picking up his pace as he hits my G-spot again and again.

  I scream as my world fades away as I come a third time harder than the first two, shivering from head to toe. I whine as I notice the orgasm stretch, rising and falling as the realization hits me that Ron didn’t stop when I came.

  “You’re gonna come again,” he says, thrusting hard and deep inside me. “Come again and again.” My body responds as if being commanded by him, a perfect maestro of my pleasure.

  I cry out as I come in waves. I begin to writhe in pleasure, feeling my world erupt in stars as I feel ecstasy and pleasure I had never known. Pleasure I didn’t even know was possible.

  “Oh God,” I cry. “Please, I can’t take much more.” I can feel my body overloading with sensation as I hear Ron grunt and groan.

  “Oh, trust me, baby,” he says his pace quickening. “Neither can I.” With those words, he unleashes a loud groan as he comes, filling his condom, he finishes with one last thrust inside me.

  He moves off me but stays close. We both lie on the bed panting, drenched in sweat, on our sides looking at each other.

  “I love you,” he says, kissing my nose. I look at him surprised, of all the things I expected him to say, it was not that he loved me.

  “Then why were you acting so distant with me?” I ask.

  “I told you last night.” He sighs. “I am dangerous to be around, the last thing I want is for you to be hurt again.” He looks away sadly. “You’ve already been hurt so much, you’ve been kidnapped, shot, even attempted rape on my watch. And I can’t forgive myself for letting it happen.”

  “You did what you could to help though.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “You were there afterward to help me heal.”

  “Because you’re all I want,” Ron confesses. “Even after all that went down, I still can’t walk away from you. I’m too selfish.”

  “Good I’m not going anywhere anyway.” I smile. “I have friends here.”

  “Really?” he says hopefully.

  “It just took me awhile to admit it,” I respond.

  “I’m glad you did.” Ron pulls me close, wrapping his arm around me, holding me to him.

  I snuggle into him, taking advantage of the moment. “It’s lonely on my own.” I’ve never said the words out loud, but that doesn’t make them any less true.

  “You shouldn’t have to be.” He buries his face in my hair. “You have me, you have us.”

  “So, you mean …” I tilt my head up at him, looking deep into his eyes.

  “Yes.” he smiles down at me. “I want you, Kella, not just as a member of the team. I want you for myself because you’re mine.”

  My mouth falls open before curling into a smile as I throw my arms around his neck a tear falling down my cheek.

  “I am,” I cry. I feel his arm wrap around me, stroking my bare back soothingly.

  “Then what is there to stop us?” he says. “We should give it a chance.”

  I nod into his neck with a sniffle.

  “Yes.” My voice sounds muffled against his skin. “We should.” I look up at him happily.

  “What’s with the grin?” Ron looks down at me.

  “I never thought my wish would come true,” I reply, my smile only growing. “Because I wished for you.”

  Epilogue

  Alex

  I stand outside Tony’s door. He has been in hiding since he heard that Ron was on his turf. Elizabeth recruited Tony to help kill her former husband. Tony was onboard at first, he wanted revenge for what happened with the massacre of his men. He was less than enthused with the gift he received also. It’s one thing to threaten to cut off someone’s balls, it’s another entirely to receive the package of the head belonging to the man you sent to kill Ron.

  I shake my head with a sigh, Tony has been such a bitch lately. He’s getting more and more fearful of Ron, he’s also losing control of his territory, the men getting restless. This includes his men that are still alive, the numbers dwindling. There was talk of a coup amongst the ranks, and some were already looking to me as the future head.

  I agreed with them, it was time that Tony was dealt with and given a wake-up call. He needed to get with it or suffer the consequences.

  I knock on Tony’s door waiting impatiently for a response.

  “Enter.” I hear his voice and I open the door. I close the door awkwardly as I see he has just finished fucking one of his whores.

  She is smoothing her skirt down over an exposed pussy, the come still dripping down her leg. I look at her breasts round and perky, admiring them. Don’t get distracted, asshole.

  “Ah, Alex.” Tony regards me as he zips up his pants, completely ignoring the girl. I step aside as the girl makes her way to the door, leaving quietly. “Just the man I wanted to see.” Tony takes a seat at his desk waving his hand toward a chair. “Please, sit.”

  “I’ll stand,” I reply. “What did you need?” I cut to the quick, no desire to stay in this asshole’s presence any longer than needed.

  “I heard you were the one that led Ron to Elizabeth.” He folds his hands before him, giving me a stern look. “Helping the enemy, that was quite the fuck up.”

  “What of it?” I begin, my voice devoid of emotion. “I was taking matters into my own hands.”

  “But you aren’t the boss, are you?” Tony looks at me, his voice filled with rage. “I am, and I wanted to pull out, therefore, everyone in my group should have pulled out. It was not your place. You’re way the fuck out of line.”

  “And?” I reply, already bored of this conversation. After the way Tony has been acting the last few months, it was next to impossible to take him seriously any more.

  “Don’t blow this off!” Tony brings his fist down against his desk. “I am still the boss, I still make the rules! And you broke them,” he shouts at me. “Now get out of my sight while I think of what to do with you.” He waves me off turning to his computer. A muscle twitches in my jaw as I turn to leave, frustration growing in me.

  “And Alex,” I pause at Tony’s statement, “don’t think you got away with this.” I feel the anger growing in me as I snap, reaching into my jacket pocket.

  “And Tony,” I reply, wrapping my hand around the cold metal in my holster. I turn sharply pulling it out and shooting the bastard through his skull.

  His head jerks back, blood splattering the wall behind him. The force of the gunshot pushing his chair back making him topple to the floor.

  “Go fuck yourself,” I finish.

  I put my gun away straightening my jacket and exit the room. I look out at the room seeing the men clustered nearby. Most of them scatter at seeing me.

  “Tony is no longer able to fulfill his duties as boss.” All eyes are on me now. “I will be taking over. Anyone has a problem with that speak the fuck up now. There will be changes around here, I expect you all to put up with them without giving me any shit.” They all nod at me.

  I know they heard the shot, they know I would do the same to any one of them that crosses me. If I can kill the boss, I can easily kill a grunt as well. I flask an arrogant grin. “As you were.” I give them all a sarcastic wave.

  They quickly scurry away. I turn and head to the door of the building, cracking my knuckles as I go.

  Time to go to Keegan’s, I think as I exit and h
ead toward my car. Time to deal with Ron Wolfe.

  About the Author

  S. Ferguson is a military wife and mother of three. She loves to find beauty in the flawed and broken.

  Connect with S. Ferguson

  www.sfergusonauthor.com

  [email protected]

  Prologue of Something There In Between

  BREE

  I hated that Ron had made me take a night off. I hated nights off. In the calm and silence, my mind was too much.

  I sat in the park for hours tonight just sitting on my bench. This had become my habit on my rare nights off, staring off into space. Sometimes, I cried. Sometimes, I just contemplated how it was possible to live through so much pain.

  I always chain-smoked.

  I didn’t have it in me to walk to our… I mean my empty apartment. Some of his things were still there, taunting me that he’s not coming back, reminding me that I am just another thing he left in an abandoned apartment, not caring enough to return for.

  Memories flash through my brain. They’re burned into my head, and no amount of crying can purge them. Flashes of us.

  Alex… saying he loved me.

  Alex… teasing about how my bottom lip sometimes got caught on one of my front teeth when I was smiling really wide.

  Making out in whatever private place we could find, no agenda, just holding each other, and being together. And, then, he was gone.

  I take a shuddering breath, and look out into the nearly empty park. I was lucky that there was a small public park across from my apartment building; it was such an easy place to sit unnoticed for hours.

  My heart is shattered. My life is in ruins. I run on autopilot: take a shower, go to work, and eat when I can’t ignore the hunger anymore… everything I’m expected to do. I am living for the sake of living, but I am not alive.

  Restlessness takes over my mind. I have to do something to distract myself. There is only one thing that can numb the pain, if only for a few hours. I’m not addicted to drugs or alcohol, but I am an addict. I pull out my phone, and browse through my messages, picking a few random guys I’ve hooked up with before. I know one of them will want to hook up. For an hour, I can pretend to be wanted. I can pretend I am beautiful. I can pretend my chest isn’t a hollow, aching cavity.

  Nate messages back quickly and, as usual, I head to his house for the customary booty call. I know he has a girlfriend, even though he tries to lie about it. He assumes I care. I have a few weak moments, where I wish I could be more than a fuck, but I know the score. I have no illusions. He doesn’t know his girlfriend calls me about every other week anyway, asking me if I’m sleeping with him. I give her different answers, depending on my mood. She knows the score too; the difference between us is she’s in denial. I know exactly what this is. And I know exactly what I am.

  Worthless. Unwanted. Slut.

  I’m the girl you call for a fun time. You don’t take me on a real date because why waste the money? You know you’re going to get laid. You don’t tell your friends about me; hell, you probably don’t even tell me your real name. You lie to me about your girlfriend and, in some cases, your wife. The worst part is I know all of this. I smile when I know you’re lying through your teeth. I nod when you tell me you want to fuck me. I smile when you lie, and tell me it’s not just a hook up to you. But I know the truth.

  I put up with your sloppy attempts to make romantic moves on me. Most of the time, I’m secretly rolling my eyes. I exist in a world of illusions. Some are stronger than others, but in the end it’s all a lie.

  Nate’s routine is the same. He pretends to want to watch a movie with me, usually some foreign language film about Muay Thai. He makes a few attempted gropes at my chest, and then tries to enter me without a condom. He got away with it once, but now I’m onto his tricks.

  When he finishes, I feel disgusted with myself. Nausea bubbles in my stomach, as he rolls over and starts to snore. He doesn’t bother to say goodbye. I’m not the kind of girl that deserves the extra energy. I dress quietly and leave. I know he has roommates, but I’ve never seen any of them. Sometimes, I wonder if he does that intentionally. He’s never taken me anywhere public, despite fucking me off and on for the last few months. I walk out onto the street in front of his building, and light up a cigarette. Flipping through my phone, I find some music and start the walk home. Well, back to my park. I sit there and cry, lighting cigarette after cigarette.

  I will never be whole again.

  How did this become my life?

  Read the rest HERE

  Prologue of Between the Secrets

  GREG

  “Jake, get your drunk ass out of the kitchen,” I mutter, laughing as I follow him into the dark room. Jake’s been stumbling and weaving, making his way into Keegan’s long unused kitchen.

  Keegan’s is the bar that our boss Ron owns, and the kitchen has never been used as far as I know. All the appliances are covered in white protective cloths. The only time anyone even comes in here is for ice or to cut through to the alley behind the bar. Not tonight, though; Jake is on a mission for something to cure his drunken munchies and decides that food is going to miraculously appear in there.

  “Nots drunk. Looking for foods,” Jake mumbles, swaying on his feet and turning his head to scan through the dark kitchen.

  We stayed a lot later than normal tonight. Everyone else is long gone. Jake hit the bottle once things calmed down, something he’s been doing way too much lately. I know he thinks he’s coping, but it’s not working. Usually his brother Declan was working behind the bar and would help keep an eye on Jake. However, Declan hadn’t been able to get out of here fast enough tonight, muttering something about “claiming his woman”. Gross.

  I hear a clatter, pulling me out of my own head, as Jake tries to yank the dusty cloth off the stove. That’s enough of that shit. I don’t know if the stove is still connected to the gas and I don’t feel like dying in a giant fireball tonight.

  Marching up to Jake, I grab his shoulders and try to steer him toward the back door, but he isn’t having it. Spinning around, he puts us chest to chest. I swallow the sudden lump in my throat. Does he know? Of course he doesn’t.

  The tension between us has been rising to a boiling point. Our chemistry is so much deeper than just friendship. Jake’s walls come down when he drinks, but I have never dared to hope for a moment like this.

  “There isn’t any food,” Jake pouts, his baby face making him look like an adorable child—a child I want to smack and kiss, in no particular order. I’m tired too and ready to go home. But I know Jake won’t drop his hunt for food. We’ve been down this road before.

  I sigh in defeat. “I’ll take you to Waffle House,” I whisper. I’ll push aside my tiredness for Jake. I would do almost anything for him. This moment feels intimate, being in the dark alone with him in my arms. It’s pretty much every dream I’ve ever had come true.

  “Greg…” Jake’s voice trails off. I can just barely see in the dim light, but it looks like his eyes are focused on my lips.

  “Fuck, don’t look at me like that.” It’s only a half-hearted protest. More of me wants this than not. And that’s the problem.

  Jake doesn’t speak. He just leans forward and then, after a brief hesitation, pushes his lips to mine.

  My entire body stiffens, afraid to move. God I hope this isn’t some drunken mistake on his part. My hands lock into their position resting on his shoulders. I’m so nervous I’ll spook him. I know his history, probably better than most. I don’t know if he realizes what he’s doing. I know I’m a bastard for not pushing him away, and despite all these thoughts, about ninety percent of the blood in my body is rushing south.

  Jake ignores the fact that I’ve frozen on my feet. Slanting his head, his tongue teases my bottom lip, asking me to open up.

  And I do. Oh my God, I do.

  He wraps his arms around the back of my neck, pulling us even closer. I can feel I’m not the only one aroused by t
his, his erection pushing against mine through our dress pants.

  He moans when he feels my hard-on pushing back, and that’s all I need to thaw. I move my left hand up to the back of his head and take control of the kiss. I don’t even think about it; I lower my right hand to rub him through his pants. Despite the material between us, I can feel how hard he is. I feel the heat coming off of him. He moans long and low into my mouth, thrusting himself into my hand.

  I curse as I manage to undo his button and fly with one hand, mentally high-fiving myself for the coordination, and reach past the layers of fabric to grip him. He’s just as big as I thought he would be. Smooth skin over something hard enough to hammer nails. I run my hand from his base to tip. I had already known from plenty of times in the men’s room together that he was uncut, but feeling it like this makes me want to do so many dangerous things to him. I wonder how he would feel about me nibbling on…

  A sudden crash scares the shit out of us. I rip my mouth from Jake’s and we both turn our heads toward the sound at the same time.

  Ron is standing in the doorway. Despite the shitty lighting, I can see his heaving chest. His eyes are wide and he's holding his gun.

  This is not good. This is so not fucking good.

  Read the rest HERE

  Acknowledgments

  To God for all things.

  To my love for his infinite patience and support on this journey.

  To my tiny humans, thank you for all your patience and for constantly asking “Mommy did you make another book?”

  To Jenn for too many things to list, for all of the things really.

  To Wander for another amazing photograph.

  To Ellie for taking a chance on me and for accepting that we’re now stuck together. Forever.

 

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