by Lynn Hagen
That was what Ford was trying to figure out, but so far, he had no idea. If it had been just him, he would have used himself as bait. But Mercy was now involved, and Ford couldn’t take that chance.
The good news was Ford hadn’t detected any hellhounds in Fever’s Edge. The bad news was Vladimir was there, and he wanted Ford and Mercy dead.
“For now, you stay by my side.” Ford took another turn that would lead them back to town. He didn’t want to take Mercy back to the ranch. That would leave his mate vulnerable and put a lot of innocent people at risk. “No running anywhere on your own.”
Not until Ford had yanked out Vladimir’s dark heart and removed his head from his shoulders.
Chapter Eight
Mercy had a crazed vampire after him. Of course he was scared out of his mind. He’d considered going back to the ranch, but did he really want to put others at risk? He would be devastated if anything happened to those he cared about.
Every time Mercy looked past the window he expected to see the vampire on the street, though he knew Vladimir couldn’t come out during the day. That still didn’t stop Mercy from looking, from holding his breath, from wondering when Vladimir would strike.
All he could do was hope that Ford killed the psycho before Vladimir killed them. He refused to dwell on the threat as the equipment for his kitchen arrived.
Mercy had been thrilled that his dream was coming true, but to see it coming together was an indescribable feeling. He bit his lower lip as the oven was being installed, trying his best not to explode with excitement. Ford had gotten Mercy the oven of his dreams. The one he had earmarked in one of his catalogs, an oven he knew he’d never be able to afford, but a guy could dream.
But now it was a reality. Mercy tried not to think about the price tag for it as he walked to the front of the shop where the display case was being installed next to the counter.
The shop wasn’t even finished, and already Mercy wanted to bake. He could already imagine the aromas that would permeate the bakery, the people who would come in to buy what he’d made, and the pure joy of owning his own business.
“You seem bubbly.” Ford slid his arm around Mercy’s waist. “It’s almost done, sweetheart.”
There was only one thing that made Mercy happier than opening the bakery. Ford. Mercy never thought he could be this content with another man. Not after what Lloyd had put him through. But Ford had proven how almost perfect he was.
“Okay.” Ford walked across the room and grabbed two rolls of what looked like blueprints, tucking them under his arm as he brought them back to the counter. “I know you said you wanted pastel colors, but I’m here to give you options.”
So accommodating. “Let’s see what you have.”
Ford rolled the plans out on the unfinished counter. Mercy got as close as he could, their arms touching. He loved smelling Ford, loved that manly, dark natural fragrance.
Mercy ripped his gaze away from Ford’s gorgeous face and looked down. The first plan was exactly how he’d envisioned his bakery. Powder blues, cotton candy pinks, bright yellows, and hints of mint greens. The layout was amazing, and Mercy instantly fell in love with it.
“Now I just wanted to throw this one in there.” Ford unrolled the second plan, and now Mercy was torn between the two. The second one appeared more nostalgic. Floating lights hung over the counter, which, in this plan, ran along the window. There were cake displays on the wooden counter, an old-fashioned two-drawer desk where the cash register sat with the display case next to that, and the back wall was brick. Instead of sleek tables and chairs, they were replaced with wooden ones.
Looking at the second plans, Mercy could imagine working there as the snow gently fell outside, a warm fireplace crackling, and lovers or friends who were just catching up curled up on the couch in the reading nook area.
New and funky or something that looked like days gone by? With either design Mercy could hear the clink of glasses, the hiss of the espresso machine, laughter, the hum of light conversation, jazz music playing gently in the background, and hell, he might even get a resident cat.
He bit his lip. “Which one do you like best?”
There was still time to change things around if Mercy wanted to.
“This is your baby.” Ford rested his hand on the small of Mercy’s back. “Which one speaks to you?”
Mercy stomped his foot. “They both do!”
With a chuckle, Ford gave him a quick kiss. “We can work on getting the kitchen finished while you make up your mind.”
That kiss ignited something warm in Mercy’s belly. He slid his arms around Ford’s neck and pulled him down, smiling at him. “Your input is important to me. We’re in this together.”
“Oh no.” Ford gave him another quick kiss. “I want this bakery to be just the way you want it. We might be partners, but this is your dream, handsome.”
So much for Mercy trying to get Ford to make the decision for him. It had been worth a try.
“We still have to figure out a name for this place.” Ford peppered kisses along Mercy’s jaw. “I have a feeling you’ve already got one picked out.”
“Since the idea of a bakery came to mind.” Mercy tilted his head back, sighing as Ford’s lips caressed his skin. “Sweet Mercy.”
“I love it,” Ford growled.
The sound sent shivers through Mercy. “Does that fit plan A or plan B?”
“Nuh-uh.” Ford sucked at Mercy’s Adam’s apple. “You’re still not tricking me into deciding.” His lips glided along Mercy’s collarbone as he pressed a hand on either side, trapping Mercy between the counter and his large body.
It was a welcome weight against him. Mercy sighed, never this happy or content in his life. He laughed softly as Ford worked his way to Mercy’s ear.
“Want to fuck you so badly.”
“Not here,” Mercy whispered back. “There’s a big window behind me, if you’ve forgotten.”
“You make me forget anything exists other than you.” Ford gave a low, throaty growl before taking possession of Mercy’s lips in a soul-stirring, passionate kiss that made Mercy’s toes curl. Everywhere Ford kissed him tingled, making Mercy’s cock thicken and pulse.
Mercy squealed as Ford lifted him up by his ass and carried him upstairs. “I can walk!”
“Not letting you out of my arms.”
Mercy thought the door would break when Ford kicked it open. He laughed as his mate carried him to the bedroom and dropped him on the bed.
His laugh stopped abruptly when Ford crawled in and kissed him again, sipping at Mercy’s lips, delving his tongue deep inside Mercy’s mouth.
“Can’t seem to get enough of you.” Ford pulled Mercy’s shirt over his head and tossed it aside. “Want to touch you every second of every day.”
Ford slid his hands over Mercy’s chest. The way his mate looked at him made Mercy melt into the bedding. Sinfully. Reverently. As if Mercy was the only man on the planet Ford was interested in.
Mercy had never been the center of someone’s world before. He knew in that moment that he’d fallen in love with Ford. Those pretty green eyes, that strong jaw, his blunt blond brows. He was a masterpiece to look at.
“So fucking beautiful,” Ford murmured right before he sucked one of Mercy’s nipples into his mouth.
“Oh god,” Mercy moaned and bucked. He needed Ford naked. Now. But he couldn’t pull himself away long enough. Not when his mate sent electrifying pulses through his body.
Then Ford trailed kisses lower down Mercy, circling his tongue around Mercy’s navel, teasing the skin with his teeth and lips. The feeling was intoxicating when Mercy thought of how focused Ford was, how determined he seemed to bring Mercy so much pleasure.
As he glided his mouth to Mercy’s hip, Ford worked the rest of Mercy’s clothes off, never breaking contact, the scrape of the day-old scruff on his face creating goosebumps over Mercy’s entire body.
Mercy’s breath caught and his lungs stalled when Ford
looked up at him through thick lashes. His green eyes held pure hunger. Christ. Did the guy know how predatory he looked? How he had Mercy seconds away from exploding?
Ford’s hard muscles coiled as he spread Mercy’s legs apart. Ford still watched him with such focus as he parted his lips and sucked Mercy’s cock into his mouth.
Mercy threw his head back and sucked air between his teeth, his legs quivering, his mind melting while he curled his fingers into the bedding.
He was caught up in the moment, consumed by it, burning alive against Ford’s hot skin and devouring mouth. By the time he came, Mercy would be nothing more than a pile of ashes.
Ford glided his hands over Mercy’s inner thighs, the added sensations driving Mercy closer to the edge. This burly man made of pure muscle had Mercy tied in knots, writhing in madness as the pressure inside him mounted.
“F-Ford.” Mercy clenched his teeth, gripped Ford’s hair, and bucked his hips. His senses were shredded. Mercy was a mess of shaking limbs and choppy breaths, consumed beyond anything he’d ever felt before.
White-hot lightning shot up his spine, destroying him as he cried out Ford’s name, his orgasm ripped from him. Mercy went lax, waiting for his mind and body to reboot because Ford had knocked Mercy offline. He couldn’t even form an intelligent thought.
There was nothing but blissful haze surrounding Mercy, a delicious hum radiating through him.
Ford kissed his way up Mercy’s body then smiled—a smile that wrecked Mercy. Gorgeous, straight, white teeth and a look of pure triumph.
Mercy watched as Ford got up and shed his clothes. His mate’s thick, long cock slapped against his stomach as Mercy’s breath hitched.
“That was just the appetizer. Now for the main course.”
“You might have to give me CPR.” Mercy felt languid, boneless, but with a few more kisses, with Ford concentrating on Mercy’s lips, jaw, and neck, his arousal was reignited.
Not that it had fully gone away in the first place.
Ford’s deep, smoky, masculine scented invaded Mercy’s lungs. The man’s touch, no matter how subtle, drove Mercy wild. The scrape of his whiskers. The low groan of Ford’s voice. The way he looked wrapped around Mercy as his muscles bunched and flexed.
There was no doubt in Mercy’s mind that Ford was capable of making him climax again.
“Stashed this earlier today.” Ford reached under the pillow next to Mercy’s head and grabbed the lube he’d purchased from the drugstore. “Wanted it in arm’s reach.”
“Hmm. What do you plan on doing with that?” Mercy brushed his fingers playfully through Ford’s blond hair.
Ford kissed Mercy’s neck before trailing his lips to his ear. “Got some pretty wicked ideas in mind. Want me to show you?”
“Yes,” Mercy hissed.
Ford curled an arm around Mercy’s waist and yanked him close, using his lubed fingers to invade Mercy’s ass, scissoring his fingers and stretching him.
Mercy was crushed against him, writhing, groaning, clutching at Ford’s powerful shoulders. Every single time Ford was near him Mercy melted, even when he had been fighting his attraction, telling himself that he was too afraid to open himself up again.
He shook in his mate’s arms, rocking his body against Ford’s fingers, the fire licking inside of him once more. Ford was like a fierce storm, battering against Mercy’s senses, whipping around Mercy’s feelings until they were a jumbled mess.
Ford kissed him softly, placing Mercy on his back, pulling his fingers free and settling between Mercy’s legs.
His green eyes were intense as he lined the head of his cock against Mercy’s hole. Mercy’s heart skipped a beat in anticipation as he spread his legs farther apart in invitation. Mercy gasped and moaned as the thick length of Ford’s cock entered him, stretching him, sliding in deep.
Ford pulled back and then thrust forward. Mercy felt Ford’s balls slap against his ass and watched his mate’s hard face twist into a grimace of sublime pleasure, his eyes closed, his body arched, tight, tense.
Holy hell. Mercy was enraptured by the expression. Ford’s thick fingers kneaded Mercy’s ass, holding him up at an angle, driving deep with the punch of his hips. Every inch of his muscular body seemed to move, to stroke Mercy.
Mercy tightened his legs around Ford, pressing his heels into the alternately flexing and relaxing ass to impale himself deeper onto his mate’s thick cock.
“Fuck.” Ford’s lips parted, and then he hissed, finally opening his eyes to stare down at Mercy with liquid pools of green that stole Mercy’s breath. He slid his hands to Mercy’s hips, keeping him pinned down, holding him in place as he rocked forward.
Mercy cried out, tossing his head from side to side, clawing at Ford’s strong back. The rasp of Ford’s whiskers against Mercy’s jaw as they found each other’s lips was almost too much. He’d never felt so conquered, in a good way, and loved every second of it.
This was the kind of possessiveness Mercy could get used to, could become spoiled by. Ford took his mouth as if he owned Mercy, every damn inch of him. He growled low, reminding Mercy that he was with a bear shifter, of how powerful Ford was, and fuck, that was such a turn-on.
Mercy was nothing more than a shaking mess, breathless, caught up in Ford’s strokes, the way his hands dug into Mercy’s flesh, the intensity of his gaze when they parted from their kiss.
“I love you.” The words had just jumped from Mercy’s throat, so strong that he hadn’t been able to hold them back. His heart beat hard and fast as he waited for Ford’s reaction.
Mercy hadn’t spoken those words since before his relationship with Lloyd had gone sour, but he didn’t regret confessing how he felt. It was the truth, and Mercy wouldn’t take it back because he’d fallen helplessly in love with Ford.
Ford brushed his lips over Mercy’s jaw, his cheekbone, his eyelids with such tenderness. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”
Those words made Mercy’s heart burst with joy as Ford’s thrusts became wild and erratic. Pleasure pooled at the base of Mercy’s spine and tingled along his nerves. His cock ached for release as his balls drew up tight.
Mercy’s eyes rolled back, his head thrashed, and he screamed Ford’s name. It was too much for Mercy as Ford’s hand snaked between their sweat-slick bodies and enveloped his straining cock and pumped hard. He felt Ford still pounding inside his ass as his release covered Ford’s hand and his own stomach and chest.
Ford threw his head back and growled low and deep and needy as he exploded within Mercy’s ass. Mercy clung to Ford as the aftershocks rippled through him.
Then Ford eased out of Mercy’s body and lay on his back. Mercy draped himself over his mate, listening to the strong and steady beat of Ford’s heart. He was boneless and exhausted, so deliciously sore that he smiled.
Ford swept his hand down Mercy’s back and settled it on Mercy’s hip. “A nap is in order.”
Mercy wholeheartedly agreed, though he was still glowing from Ford’s declaration, reveling in it. Even so, the claim Mercy had made frightened him because he’d opened himself back up, and trusting someone so completely left a person vulnerable.
Something Mercy had sworn he’d never be again, yet there he was, trusting Ford with his heart.
“I meant what I said.” Ford kissed the top of Mercy’s head. “I didn’t say I love you in the heat of the moment.”
“I meant it, too.” Mercy snuggled closer and closed his eyes, pushing aside his anxiety so he could simply enjoy the moment.
Chapter Nine
Four days had passed since Ford had laid out the plans in front of him and Mercy was no closer to choosing one of them. He stood at the stove in the apartment upstairs, flipping pancakes, letting his mind wander between what he wanted his shop to look like and the amazing sex he’d had last night.
He was so lost in thought he hadn’t heard the voices coming from the other room. Mercy strained to listen as he removed the pancake then added more batter.
�
��Not bad,” Lincoln said as he entered the kitchen. “This is actually a nice setup. This apartment is also huge, Mercy. Plenty of room for a bear.”
“You don’t have any Wi-Fi,” Red complained as he walked in. “What’s up with that? And have you thought about your website for your bakery? That’s real important for advertising. I can create one for you once the shop is finished.”
Mercy nearly cried at the sight of them. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the two until now. Tightness filled his chest, and he had to force himself not to shed a tear.
God, why was he so emotional? It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen them in years. It had been a week and a half. But that just told him how much they meant to him.
“The apartment came furnished.” Mercy flipped his pancake, noting to himself to make more for Lincoln and Red. “No, I haven’t even thought of a website.”
Why hadn’t he thought of a website? There had been so much to do, so many workers coming in and out of the shop, things being delivered, permits he’d had to fill out and file. Ingredients, equipment, choices to be made.
Mercy had no idea opening his own bakery could be so overwhelming. The floor guy was coming today to lay down tile in the shop. It had driven Ford nuts the way Mercy had hemmed and hawed about what kind of tile he’d wanted.
Mercy had finally thrown his arms up and walked out, refusing to choose. Ford had done it for him, which meant Mercy had no idea what the flooring would look like.
“Why don’t you give me a tour of what you guys have done so far downstairs?” Lincoln said to Ford when Mercy’s mate appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“Sure.” Ford smiled at Mercy before the two walked out.
Red leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “How’re you holding up?”
Mercy wanted to tell Red about Vladimir, about how Lloyd had shown up at the ranch, about the nervous breakdown that was seconds away because the bakery project entailed more than he’d thought it would.