Mercy: Second Chance Military Romance

by Abbi Hemp

  “Come here,” he said in a gruff voice, stepping back and bending to help me up.

  Once on my feet, he led me to his bed.

  “Bend over the edge.”

  I did as he told me, feeling so dirty and horny at the same time. He slapped my left ass cheek, causing it to sting with a perfect blend of pain and pleasure.

  “Oh,” I said.

  “You like that, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Don’t stop.”

  He slapped the other cheek as I stood with my breasts pressed against his mattress. I felt his hands from my ass up my back to my shoulders then back again.

  I moaned, spreading my legs a few more inches, wanting him to have all the access necessary. Put it in me, I thought, unable to wait any longer.

  “You’re so fucking hot,” he said, rubbing his dick on my pussy but not putting it in.

  “Oh, yes. Fuck me…”

  “You want this dick?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  When the first inch or so of his cock slid into me, I knew I wouldn’t last long. My body already tingled everywhere as he slowly pushed all nine wonderful inches into my wet and willing pussy.

  I pushed back against him, wishing it would go even deeper. He pulled out just as slowly, enjoying every single moment. Once out almost all the way, he repeated the process, this time faster.

  Gradually, he found a rhythm, working up the pace, pounding me harder and faster. I never wanted him to stop. His cock felt like it belonged inside me. Waves of pleasure washed over my body.

  All my doubts and worries floated away as he fucked me like a real man, taking everything he wanted while making sure I felt at least as good as him at all time.

  I thought I would come when he reached under and rubbed my clitoris with his fingers while pumping in and out of me. The world faded around me.

  That cock moving in and out of my body was all that mattered in that moment. I stared at his face, so full of concentration and ecstasy.

  As he fucked me like it was our last time together before he went off to war again, I concentrated on the feeling of his thick cock sliding in and out.

  He pushed me to the edge. My mind went blank when my orgasm hit. His cock kept fucking me as my body shook.

  “Turn around,” he said. “I want to see your beautiful face.”

  After he pulled out, I flipped over and sat on the bed. He crawled onto the mattress as I scooted back, spreading my legs apart as wide as was comfortable.

  I stopped. He slipped his dick back inside me. My only thought was to make him feel at least as good as he had made me feel moments before.

  The look on his face told me I wasn’t far off from my goal. His forehead wrinkled, he stared at me intently, his thrusts coming faster.

  “Yes, baby…”

  In that moment, the intimacy level went through the roof. A dull, pleasurable sensation ran through my body as we connected on some deep level.

  He grunted, his thrusts slowing. When he came, I saw it in his eyes, the most marvelous sight I’d ever seen in my life. His face relaxed and his body stopped.

  With his cock still inside my pussy, he stared into my eyes, working on catching his breath. I did not look away, soaking in every visual detail of the moment.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, pulling out.

  “Fuck indeed.”

  He laid on his back next to me, still breathing heavy. I rolled over and threw my arm over his rock hard stomach as I cuddled against his quivering body.

  “Fuck,” he repeated.

  Had he lost the power of speech?

  I giggled.

  He turned with a smile on his face.

  “You’re something else, Mercy.”

  “At least I can’t kick you out this time. You’re not going to make me leave, are you?”

  “I don’t want you to leave, not ever,” he said, brushing a strand of hair out of my eyes with his fingers.

  “Do you mean it? We don’t know each other well, but I feel so connected to you.”

  “Still?” he said with a grin.

  I squeezed him briefly, smiling myself. Joy radiated out of us, bounced against the ceiling and walls, and came back, smothering both of us with tremendous positive energy.

  “I’m serious, though…” I whispered, wondering if I was pushing him too much.

  “I know what you mean. I’ve been wandering around since Afghanistan.”

  Will he ever tell me what really happened over there?

  I kept my questions to myself, enjoying the afterglow. We cleaned up a few minutes later, sharing a huge bowl of ice cream before calling it a night and crawling into his bed together.

  EIGHTEEN

  Mercy

  I woke up before him the next morning. As I laid next to him, his bare back rising and falling as he breathed, I smiled to myself. It hadn’t all been a dream.

  Had I finally found a man worthy of my time? Two years after meeting him in Afghanistan? Our story of meeting would be so fun to tell around the dinner table.

  Carefully, I slipped from under the covers and got out of bed, trying not to wake him. He groaned and rolled over, but he appeared to be a heavy sleeper.

  Was he a morning person or super grumpy before he had coffee and breakfast? As I grabbed his white robe from the top of his dresser, I realized how little I knew about him.

  At the same time, none of the mystery mattered. It made our blossoming relationship that much better. In the kitchen, spotlessly clean, I started a pot of coffee in his fancy machine.

  While it brewed, I returned to the bedroom where I found him still asleep. I gathered up my clothes and got dressed quickly because I needed to go home to change and shower before work.

  I hated to go into work, but I needed the money. A little time and space between Tyler and I wouldn’t hurt anything. I needed to think everything through. It all seemed to move so fast.

  Before I left, I wrote a quick note telling him I’d gone to work and would call him later that evening. He had a set of banana magnets on his refrigerator, so I used one of those.

  Outside his door, in the small foyer with the elevator, I saw a door leading to a set of stairs. A quick three flights would help me wake up, I figured as I opened it and started down.

  By the time I reached the lobby on the first floor, I realized I had to get in shape. The doorman, same person as the night before, smiled and nodded his head as I passed in a hurry.

  I hailed a cab when I got outside Tyler’s apartment building. The driver yammered on about some festival happening in Brooklyn later that night. I nodded politely but said nothing.

  When the cab driver made it to my building about ten minutes later, I paid him before getting out. As I walked toward the front door, I saw Roger leaning against the brick wall next to the front door.

  Ugh. I don’t need this now, I thought, wondering if I should just walk away and go to work in yesterday’s clothes. My workmates wouldn’t mind. Before I decided, he spotted me.

  He smiled as we walked over. Everything about him was broad, his shoulders, his gait, even his thinking. The latter was the main reason I wasn’t interested in dating him anymore.

  “Hey, girl,” he said, stopping in front of me.

  “Hey, Roger. I’m in a hurry.”

  “You weren’t home last night.”

  I tilted my head to the side and studied his face.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Oh, let’s just say I’m a protective person.”

  “That’s creepy,” I said, walking around him. “I need to go.”

  “Hold on,” he said, grabbing my arm.

  I looked at it then up to his eyes, showing him my anger with my face. He let go.

  “You still haven’t confirmed our second date.”

  “I’ve been busy, Roger. And, to be honest, I’m not interested in going on any more dates with you.”

  “You got someone else?”

  “No,” I lied. “But even if I did, it wo
uldn’t be any of your business.”

  The two men had known each other in Afghanistan, but I was sure they didn’t talk anymore. As long as I didn’t tell either about the other man, I would be fine. Tyler was the one I wanted.

  “Damn. When did you grow so cold?”

  “That’s not the way to get me to go on a second date with you. As I said, I’ve got to go.”

  “Fine, I’ll call you later,” he said as I walked away.

  “Please don’t,” I called over my shoulder.

  My hands trembled as I fumbled with my key to unlock the front door of the building. When would I be able to afford to live in a place with a doorman?

  Inside my building, I slammed the door shut and turned to look outside. Roger had left. I breathed a sigh of relief before going upstairs to get ready for work.

  * * *

  Roger was still nowhere to be seen when I left the building for work. On the entire walk to the nondescript office building about a mile from my apartment, I thought about him and Tyler.

  I had slept with him again. Did I finally have him out of my system? He had taken care of my physical needs, but I got the sense he might offer me so much more.

  At work, I ran into Jennifer in the break room as I got another cup of coffee to keep my going. She smiled when she saw me. I waved and walked over to the where the coffee machine sat on the counter.

  “You weren’t answering your phone last night,” she said.

  “Oh, I might have hooked up with someone.”

  “You? Hookup with someone? I need the details.”

  “Maybe later,” I said, grabbing the pot of coffee and pouring a mug. “How are you and that new guy working out?”

  “Which one?” she asked.

  “The tall one with the beard. I can’t remember his name.”

  “Jason? He was like two men ago. You need to keep up.”

  “Are you ever going to find a decent man?” I asked then took a sip of coffee.

  “I don’t know.” She sighed. “There’s like no good guys who aren’t already in a relationship.”

  “Right?”

  “Was it the guy from Afghanistan you hooked up with last night? Roger?”

  I frowned, staring down at my coffee.

  “No? Tell me more.”

  When I looked up, I saw a look of excitement on her face.

  “It wasn’t Roger. I met another guy in Afghanistan too.”

  “Tyler? Yeah, you told me about that crazy night you left.”

  “He got with me a few days ago.”

  “And Roger got with you like a week ago? That’s weird.”

  “I guess.”

  Both of us took another drink of the liquid caffeine.

  “You should hook me up with Roger if you’re not interested in him,” she said.

  “Really?”

  She nodded.

  “Why not?”

  “He’s not my type of guy at all, but I won’t judge you.”

  “Better not,” she said.

  I smiled.

  “I’ll send him your number. Is that cool?”

  “Yeah,” she said.

  If Roger and her hooked up or not, he would quit practically stalking me. All my thoughts connected to Tyler in one way or another. No matter how hard I tried, I wasn’t able to get him out of my mind.

  “I should go,” she said.

  “Yeah, me too. I’m on chapter thirty-two of editing this novel, and I need to get it finished today.”

  “Good luck. I hope it’s not one of the long ones.”

  “No. Only four more chapters to go, but this author can go on and on, dragging scenes out way too long.”

  “Can’t be any worse that the one I’m editing right now.”

  I took a step toward the break room door.

  “You doing anything for lunch?” she asked.

  “No, let’s go get something together.”

  “Don’t send Roger my number yet. I want to think about it more.”

  I raised my hand in recognition as I walked out and headed toward my desk for another day of work, helping other people with their written words. It didn’t bring me joy, but it paid the bills.

  NINETEEN

  Tyler

  When I woke up and saw her gone, I wondered in the back of my mind why she hadn’t told me the truth about her and Roger the night before. I hadn’t mentioned it either. We had both been occupied.

  As I drank a cup of coffee in the kitchen and attempted to wake up all the way, my phone rang. I thought it might be Mercy, so I grabbed it right away. I did not recognize the number.

  “Hello? Who is this?”

  “Is this Tyler Anderson?” a man asked in a heavily accented tone.

  “Maybe. Who is this?”

  “It’s Aamir,” he said. “Do you not remember me?”

  “Aamir, old friend. How have you been?”

  “Not good, Tyler, not good at all.”

  Another man’s voice suddenly piped up.

  “You will come back here, Mr. Anderson, and finish what you started.”

  “Who is this?”

  “My name is not important. Aamir’s life will be spared because he got me in touch with you, but if you do not comply, I will burn this whole village to the ground.”

  “What do I care?” I asked as nonchalantly and coldly as possible.

  If he knew I cared about the people, he would be able to use them as leverage. If I pretended not to care, he might leave them alone.

  “You care, Mr. Anderson. You forget what you have done in our country?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You are stealing our resources.”

  “I’m not stealing anything,” I said. “By the way, this conversation is probably being recorded.”

  “Do I sound like I care?” the man yelled.

  “Who am I speaking with?”

  “You will know my name soon enough. For now, understand you need to come back to Afghanistan and finish what you started.”

  “Look, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Put Aamir back on the phone.”

  “Beware, Mr. Anderson. We have eyes all around the world watching.”

  The call ended. I put the phone in front of my face and stared at the screen, still unable to believe what had just happened. Did Roger have something to do with it?

  If he did, it would explain why he had gotten with me out of nowhere a year after we both got out of the military when things were too hot to continue.

  I pushed Afghanistan out of my mind, reliving some of the better moments from the night before. Unlike other women, I found myself still interested in Mercy.

  After finishing my coffee, I left my apartment and walked a few blocks to the nearest Central Park entrance. Why hadn’t Mercy told me the truth?

  I bounced the question around, unable to come up with an answer. Determined to confront her about it, I sent a text message in the early afternoon.

  “Your place or mine tonight?”

  “Start at my place ;)”

  The winking smiley set off something in me. The more I thought about her not telling me about Roger, the angrier I became. Would she lie to me about other things?

  Did lies of omission not count?

  My thoughts went back and forth the rest of the afternoon as I ran some errands then returned to my apartment for a nap before going to meet her.

  TWENTY

  Tyler

  By the time evening rolled around, I had myself worked up, ready to go off on her about not telling me everything. The closer I got to her apartment, the more upset I became.

  Sure, she was a good lay, but I didn’t need a crazy woman in my life permanently. What the hell had I been thinking? I hit the buzzer for her apartment around six o’clock.

  After confronting her, we would either fuck our brains out or I would leave and go get drunk on my own. She buzzed the door open right away. I opened it and went inside.

  On the elevator r
ide up, an apparent housewife, her hair still in curlers, turned to smile at me. I smiled back and nodded in recognition, wishing she got off before me.

  We stopped. The door slid open and she got out, glancing over her shoulder. I hit the button to close the door, ready to give Mercy a piece of my mind.

  I had given her too much of my time already. If she didn’t come clean about everything, I would kick her out of my life. It was that fucking simple.

  The elevator door slid open on her floor. I stepped out and headed toward her apartment. With each step, I prepared myself for the confrontation.

  She wasn’t expecting me to ask her about Roger, which gave me an advantage in the coming battle of the sexes. I loved fucking her tight pussy, but I wasn’t about to let a woman walk all over me.

  I rapped on the door three times. She opened it a few seconds later, a smile on her face. Her wet, curly hair made her look even more hot, not to mention the half-open robe exposing her soft cleavage.

  “Hey, you’re early. Come in. I just got out of the shower.”

  “Yeah, we need to talk,” I said, walking in and shutting the door behind me.

  “Can you talk in the shower?” she teased, pressing her body against me.

  I stepped away, a serious expression on my face.

  “Uh oh,” she said, frowning. “What did I do?”

  “I don’t know, Mercy. Did you do something?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. “Or fail to mention something?”

  “What’s this about?” she asked, looking straight into my eyes.

  “Something you’re not telling me.”

  “Oh, like those samples in Afghanistan Aamir asked you about? Or that whole smuggling thing that you were involved in? Not getting that story ruined my career. You know that, right?”

  “You seem to be doing pretty good for yourself,” I said, glancing around her living room.

  “Not as well as you it would seem,” she shot back.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”