by Liz Crowe
I snatched it from his fingers. “Thanks.”
Shoving off the desk and making for the door, I figured I was done asking the stupid questions I already knew the answers to. Stay away from X. Unfortunately, my pussy didn’t seem to agree.
“Mercy?” Weiss called out.
I turned back, half in and half out of the door. “Yeah?”
“I’m not fucking around. Don’t get involved with X.”
“You worried you'll have to rehire that deadbeat Brock again?”
He winked. “You've got it.”
“Don’t worry about me,” I said. “I can hold my own.”
As the door closed, I vaguely heard Weiss say, “Not against X, you can’t.”
Chapter Six
X
Days upon days of darkness. Beating, blood, pain. Living, sleeping and eating in my own shit and piss.
When you have a strong mind, it’s a hard thing to break. It takes a lot of persuasion to make a man forget his own name, but when he does…fuck when he does forget his name and his soul is hacked away from his body, that’s when you have a machine to program to your will. And they programmed him to kill whoever they wanted without remorse.
The room never changed. Only the events leading up to it did. The beating might’ve been a merciless whipping while tied on the cross, or it could’ve been hot pokers on the rack searing into flesh…but the room never changed.
There was a man kneeling in the middle of the murky room that smelt like my own filth. A sack was over his head, obscuring his identity, making him a nameless human soon to be a nameless corpse.
“Shoot him,” a different man said. He was standing beside me, a gun in his outstretched hand. He offered it to me butt first. “Shoot him and pledge your allegiance.”
Hesitation would mean a bullet in my own head. They’d force me to my knees and execute me like a dog, but I’d been taught well. Taught so fucking well that I stepped forward, took the gun, clicked the safety off and fired.
It wasn’t until the nameless body slumped to the ground, that I blinked.
*****
Staring at the envelope sitting on my coffee table, I sank back into the sofa, rubbing my hand over my face. Too many things were keeping me on edge these days. Okay, so it was only one thing, but even one was too many.
Weiss practically told me he’d cut my balls off himself if I fucked with Mercy. What the fuck was with that?
Sighing, I picked up the envelope, trying to get my head into the game. Too much time off, that’s what was wrong with me. Too much time idling and fucking random women, getting drunk and licking pussy.
Sykes said there were three possibilities. Three leads. There was the dead family with one surviving member, the runner who had been turned as an informant for the cops and the guy who’d been laundering money.
The informant had gone to ground in a safe house and the cops would never pull a stunt that included sending in a lone woman to put a bullet in Sykes' head. It would be a strike team dropping by with an arrest warrant, not a stealth assassination.
The shit who’d been laundering money was stupid enough to get caught, and I doubted he had the book smarts to plan a hit on Sykes in his own home. He couldn't even clear his browser history.
The only sure thing was the dead family. Classic revenge scenario.
It was the lead the Necromancers had followed, but the trail had gone cold. Tossing aside the other files, I opened the third and laid out all the papers. There were clippings from the local paper, reports on the police investigation which had gone cold pretty quickly. Sykes was good at covering his tracks, I’d give him that. What he lacked finesse in though, was killing. Laying out the crime scene photos they’d probably bribed out of some poor kid at the cop shop, I studied them more out of curiosity than anything.
Sykes was a brutal bastard. The young man who’d been the cause of the trouble had been shot in the head. Another man was on his back on the floor, half his skull gone from a close quarters shot and a woman was laying face down in a pool of her own blood. That one right there? She’d been trying to run away. The next photo confirmed what I knew was the truth. The bullet had gone clear through her skull. In the back and out the front. Right between the eyes.
This was a revenge killing, but nowhere in the file did it mention why. Which meant that it was personal. Sykes had gone himself to do the job, not a lackey like me, which was the glaring indicator. Whatever this kid had done, it’d cut Sykes deep, which meant it could go both ways.
Flicking through the papers, I found a picture of the last surviving member of the family. A daughter a few years younger than the deadshit that was her brother.
The picture was old, a high school graduation portrait or it might've been college. The woman looked all debutante and virginal. Baby faced, blonde, total straight laced with one of those honors ribbons around her neck. It didn't add up. She didn't look like the type.
Tossing the picture aside, I flicked through the newspaper clippings.
Alison Crawford, 23, the sole surviving member of her family who were brutally shot dead in their own home by persons unknown…
At the bottom of the pile was a missing persons report for the same woman dated almost a year ago.
It was possible the same woman who’d turned up in Sykes’ house pointing a gun at his head was the same woman in the photograph. The burning question was, where was Alison Crawford now?
She was looking to get lost…my thoughts began to scramble in my head and I flung the papers back onto the coffee table. Mercy was looking to get lost. The raven haired, blue eyed stunner with the smart mouth. Mercy fucking Reid.
My cock started to swell as I gazed down at the crime scene photos. Dead bodies, blood, that fucking ass of a contract and a hard fucking cock…Mercy fucking Reid.
I was a monster.
I didn’t have time to play this game with her. I needed…I needed to fuck then I could do what I was meant to. Then I could concentrate.
My obsession with Mercy Reid was affecting my ability to do my job. It was time to stick my cock in her and be done with it.
Grabbing my keys, I locked the door behind me, thumped down the stairs and into the parking garage. Kicking my motorcycle into life, I shoved on my helmet and roared out of the lot and onto the street. The city passed in a blur as I ducked through the late night traffic, splitting lanes and running amber lights. My balls were really starting to feel painfully tight and if I didn’t come in Mercy’s cunt soon, I was sure my cock would fall off.
The Gambler’s Inn was quiet when I arrived. It was past midnight, right on closing and I hoped she was still inside because I didn’t have the patience to pick the lock and go through Weiss’ crap to find out her details.
Hovering just inside the door, I saw Mercy closing down the bar for the night. It was empty, the usual garage rock soundtrack switched off. Weiss’ bike was gone and the street outside was like a ghost town.
It was like my cock had its own brain and knew exactly when to turn up and turn on.
Perfect.
I was done waiting.
Chapter Seven
Mercy
The door slammed shut and my gaze snapped up and collided with X.
He stood there in his leather jacket looking almost manic and my heart skipped a beat. He looked…hungry.
“What do you want?” I snapped, pissed that he had turned up right on closing, obviously on the prowl. “We’re closing.”
He stalked forward through the empty pub, leaned over the bar, fisted his hand into my shirt and pulled me sharply toward him. Before I could react, his mouth pressed against mine and his lips were warm and hard…everything I’d reluctantly fantasized about. If it wasn’t for the bar between us, I’m sure I’d be rubbing up against him right about now.
His tongue licked into my mouth, caressing my own and I think I moaned, but I was too startled to give a fuck. He pulled back just as sharply, letting me go, and stood there just sta
ring at me like I was something to eat.
Fuck. Me.
My chest heaved as I gulped down air like I was drowning. I was a fucking stunned mullet.
“Lock up,” X commanded, his gaze never leaving mine.
“I-”
“Mercy.”
My name rolled off his tongue like a fucking aphrodisiac and I dropped the dishcloth on the floor, my fingers losing all sensation.
His lip curled in satisfaction at my reaction as I fumbled for my keys, going for the door. I was such a fucking idiot. X was…I didn’t know what X was but it wasn’t anything good. I locked the door, flipping the three deadbolts home with a loud click that was amplified by the tension that had risen in the air. I could feel his gaze burning into my back, traveling over my ass and I shivered.
Turning, I found X still standing where I left him, only this time he’d taken off his jacket, his tight black T-shirt hugging the muscles in his chest. Taking a tentative step forward, I hesitated when he sprang to life, striding across the pub and yanking my body against his.
He claimed my lips, licking into my mouth again in one long stroke. This time he didn’t pull away, backing me against the wall, deepening the kiss. I shoved my hands into his hair, clawing at his scalp, tasting him like I couldn't get enough. My breasts ached against my T-shirt, wanting his touch and my pussy flared into life as I started to grind against him.
X pressed his chest into mine as I rubbed my tits against him, his hips pinning mine in place as we ground our parts together through our clothes, dry humping against the wall. Fuck, I was pretty experienced when it came to sex, I’d done it plenty of places and in plenty of ways, but we were still fully clothed and I was already teetering on the edge.
It was overwhelming and I never got overwhelmed by a man. I was always in control. I needed to be, especially now and especially with X.
I tore my lips from his and he clamped down on my neck, sinking his teeth into my skin. He obviously liked it rough and I quivered at the thought of him fucking me hard. He was dominant all the way. Problem was, I had a hard time doing the submissive thing. I wanted to cause him pain too. I wondered if he liked being hit by a woman.
I moaned loudly, shoving my palms against his chest.
X’s gaze met mine, full of fire, and I almost caved.
“It’s just fucking,” he said, reading my expression way too precisely.
“Why?”
“Why the fuck not?” He pushed me roughly against the wall again, grinding his hard-on against my lower stomach. Lowering his head, he ran the tip of his nose along my neck and into my hair, breathing deeply. “Don’t you like to fuck, Mercy?”
“I like to fuck,” I hissed.
“Then stop trying to control everything,” he murmured against my skin.
“I could say the same thing to you,” I gasped as his teeth dragged against my neck.
“It's my job to be in control,” he growled, thrusting his hips forward, his cock rubbing against my cleft. “Good for you and even better for me.”
“What if I don’t want to give it to you?”
X growled...he actually growled this deep throaty rumble that vibrated through his chest into mine. “I want to slide my cock into you,” he said. “I want to feel your arousal coat my skin, because by the time I'm through with you, you'll be so fucking wet you'll beg me to put you out of your misery.”
“That's where you're wrong,” I gasped. “I don't beg.”
He thrust a hand into my hair and tugged hard, sending splinters of pain shooting through my scalp.
Running his tongue the length of my jaw before brushing his lips against mine, he breathed, “You will.”
He pulled me by the hair, dragging me across the pub and shoved open the door to Weiss’ office, pushing me over the desk. Turning, I raised my right hand to slap him, but he grasped my wrist and then the other as I tried to claw him with my left.
X jerked me close rubbing his cock against my thigh.
“Do you want to fuck, Mercy? Do you? I’m not a fucking rapist, so tell me now. If it’s no, I’ll never touch you again.”
I shivered against him, my gaze firmly stuck on his. X was a hard motherfucker to read, but he couldn’t mask his cock and his cock said it wanted me. My pussy was aching with a dull throb that needed to be rubbed. Yeah, I wanted to fuck.
Letting myself go slack, he uncurled his fingers and smashed his lips into mine. My entire body flared into life with millions of tiny fireworks as he forced his way into my mouth, his tongue twining greedily with mine. Hands fisted into my hair, holding me firmly in place as he devoured me, pushing his cock roughly into my stomach.
I clawed at his T-shirt, shoving my hands underneath, rubbing the flats of my palms up over his stomach and clamped my fingers down over his nipples, pinching hard. He tore away with a moan, yanked the material up over his head and flung it over his shoulder.
The tattoo that I’d noticed peeking out from his collar was a black and grey tribal design, not the shitty kind that sports jocks got for kicks, it looked like traditional tribal from the wilds of the Amazon rainforest. It covered the left half of his chest, wrapping around his ribs and disappearing onto his back. It crawled all the way over his shoulder and up his neck and I stared at it, wondering what it meant. There was a hollow space, right where his heart should be.
Another fucking warning.
I didn’t get any more time to contemplate that screwed up metaphor because he grabbed the hem of my T-shirt and pulled it up over my head, then he was snapping open the clasp on my bra. Air and X’s hard gaze prickled my skin as he pushed me onto Weiss’ desk, my ass colliding painfully with the corner. I cried out as my back hit the surface and X moved over me, his mouth clamping down on my nipple. He sucked hard, his feet on the floor and his crotch grinding into mine. I bucked into him, wanting more pressure everywhere.
Fuck, he was good.
He licked a trail to my other breast, biting my nipple hard. It fucking hurt, but the sensation only made my arousal flare hotter within me. As if he sensed I was going to come without even seeing his cock, he pulled away and began stripping off my jeans. He shoved his hands under my ass and tugged, removing the annoying denim and my knickers at the same time.
It was then that I realized I was lying naked, exposed, on Weiss’ desk, with a very dangerous man standing over me. A man who was apparently capable of anything.
X undid the fly on his jeans, pushing them off his hips and my gaze flickered from his down to his cock. And fuck…his cock. He was already fully hard and when he sprang free, it stood tall and primed. I wanted it in me.
Without a word, he grabbed my legs and tugged me forward. I gasped, waiting for the moment he’d impale me, but his hands clamped down on my hips and I was unceremoniously flipped over, my tits and face pressed against the desktop.
My entire body quivered as he spread my legs, my ass sticking up in the air. God, I just wanted him to put it in and fuck me.
Clamping his hands on my ass, he slid his cock between my cheeks, pumping a few times, his breathing beginning to get heavier. Abruptly, his thumb brushed against the puckered hole of my ass and I flinched.
“I don’t… I’ve never…” I gasped.
“It’ll hurt,” he said, circling. “But it’s a good pain. A really fucking good pain.” He pressed the pad of his thumb harder against my skin as the head of his cock slid into my slick pussy and just as the pressure increased, he pulled out and left me hanging.
He hadn’t touched my clit or put a finger inside me to stretch my pussy but I was already primed to take his cock. My legs started to quake with need, the overwhelming urge to beg lingering on my lips. I wouldn’t stoop to those levels. I wouldn’t give X all the power. I wouldn’t…
He rubbed the underside of his cock through my ass cheeks, folding his body over mine.
“What do you say, Mercy?” he murmured, lips grazing my shoulder blade. Hands rubbed up and down my back before circling aro
und to fondle my clit.
I thrust my ass back into him. “Fuck you.”
X snarled, his hands clamping down on my hips, teeth sinking into my skin. It hurt, but he was right. It was a good kind of pain. I was so aroused, any touch was mainlining right into my pussy.
Fuck him.
He rubbed his thumb through my folds, smearing my arousal to my ass and he repeated the same pressure as before, sliding the head of his cock just inside my quivering pussy.
“Just fuck me,” I growled, my fingers curling over the edge of the desk.
“Not until you beg,” he replied, pulling out and thrusting again.
Not deep enough. Nowhere near enough.
Fuck, he was going to break me. Is that what he did for Royal Blood? He tortured people with his cock? He was good at it. Maybe he was a sick son of a bitch who got off on other people’s pain. The ultimate cock blocker.
X rubbed the head of his cock through my folds, down to my clit and back again, repeating the process until I moaned loudly.
“I can do this all night,” he said. His voice was steady, not giving away anything. He was always so in fucking control it made anger flare deep inside me.
“Selfish fuck,” I hissed.
“I hear you’re the kind of woman who fucks men, not the other way around.” His cock dipped inside my pussy again. “Well, Mercy…” My name rolled off his lips with such hunger, it made me screw my eyes shut tightly. “I fuck women. They don’t fuck me. If you want to come, you have to beg.”
“What if I don’t?” I gasped, trying to force myself onto his dick.
“Then I’ll get dressed, walk out and find another hole to stick my cock in.”
“Shit, you’re a fucking romantic.”
“I prefer the term, realist.”
“Heartless,” I whispered, finally getting the meaning behind his tattoo. The space over his heart was empty for a reason. He was empty inside. Soulless. It had to be.