by Lane Hart
“Who the fuck wrote this?” I roar as I hold the offending paper up in the air and look to Mercy for a name. As soon as I get one, I’ll kick his fucking ass.
“I don’t know,” she replies softly, looking so timid with her arms wrapped around herself that I finally notice how scared she is. That’s why she came here to Chase and Sasha’s place, because some psycho freak has been creeping around her house. Wow. What if he had tried to break in and hurt her?
Lowering my voice along with my anger, I tell her, “I’m sorry.”
“We thought you might want to hang out with Mercy until this fucker is caught,” Chase informs me.
“You don’t have to–” Mercy starts before I interrupt her.
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” I agree. If anyone tries to hurt her on my watch, I’ll blow his goddamn head off. Who the hell does he think he is? Her soulmate? Really? That’s the biggest load of horse shit I’ve ever read.
“You’re both welcome to stay here tonight, if you want,” Sasha offers.
I lift an eyebrow to Chase since I won’t crash in his home unless he says it’s okay.
“Yeah, man. I bet Reece can get his hands on some high-tech security equipment. You two probably don’t want to stay at Mercy’s until it’s installed,” Chase says, barely hiding his smile. I bet he’ll give me hell about how I’m already twisted up about his old lady’s friend. And he’ll be right. If he called me a bowl full of pussy whip with a cherry on top, I wouldn’t even deny it.
“Fine,” I agree even though we would be safe at her place if I were there with her. Unless I got distracted and shit when we started fucking again.
Oh, fuck.
As long as this asshole stalker is out there watching her, I won’t lay a hand on Mercy. I can’t afford to be distracted, because there’s no telling what crazy shit the fucker may try to do to her. So, no matter how much I’m dying to touch her or taste her again, I won’t screw this up. Her safety is more important than me getting off.
“You had dinner yet, Abe?” Sasha asks.
“No.”
“Then sit down and dig in. We have plenty,” she tells me. “Here, you can take my seat. I’m finished,” Sasha says when she stands up from the chair that’s closest to Mercy to take her plate over to the sink. “Chase and I will go get everything ready in the spare bedroom,” she adds before she grabs the front of Chase’s cut and pulls him along behind her so that Mercy and I are alone.
If I had to guess, I think Sasha has some absurd notion that Mercy and I could be a couple if she keeps pushing the two of us together. And while that would be a nice dream, it’s never going to be the reality. The two of us are complete opposites living worlds apart.
Taking Sasha’s vacant seat, I grab a bowl full of some sort of pasta in white sauce and pull it to me to dig in with the big serving fork that’s still in it.
“Hey,” I say to Mercy after I chew the first bite. I hate the awkward silence between us.
“Hey,” she replies.
Cramming in another mouthful, I chew and swallow, then ask, “How often do you get your shot?”
“Excuse me?” she asks with a cute little wrinkle forming between her red brows.
“Your birth control shot,” I elaborate.
“Oh,” she mutters in understanding. “Um, every three months.”
“You get them on time?”
“Yes,” she replies slowly. “Why?”
“Just making sure I didn’t knock you up,” I grumble softly.
“Don’t worry. I always get the shot when I’m supposed to. It’s not like I want kids either. Well, not yet,” she says as her fingers begin to fidget with her napkin. “Other than reassurances about my birth control, did you have any other questions or, you know, comments about yesterday?” she asks.
“Nope,” I reply since I think she’s being sarcastic and I’m still hung up on the kid thing.
Of course she wants kids and I don’t. Ever. Just another reason why the two of us would never be able to have more than a few incredible orgasms together. An actual relationship would never work between us. Not that I’m capable of a relationship with any woman…
But the fact that Mercy wants kids means that someday in the future she’ll want a man to put kids in her belly. And now I’m suddenly jealous of this future, hypothetical asshole who gets to touch her because I can’t. Fuck, do I want to, though.
As if she’s sensing those thoughts, Mercy says, “What we did…it was great, at least for me, but it can’t happen again.”
“I fucking know that,” I grumble, because I figured that out a few seconds earlier or maybe even yesterday when she kicked me out. And I really like hearing her say that sex with me was great even though I was well aware of that too. I think I’m a pretty damn good lover all of the time, but I’ve never enjoyed fucking as much as I did with Mercy.
“And you don’t have to follow me around…” she starts.
“Yes, I do,” I interrupt before I continue eating.
“No, you don’t, Abe,” she argues. “I could go to the police or –”
“Fuck the police,” I huff. I put the bowl of pasta down and lick my lips to clean them. “I can protect you better than they can.”
“Oh, so you can do it better than all of them? The entire Wilmington Police Department?” Mercy asks with the corners of her lips raised.
“Yes,” I answer flatly. I would take on anyone for Mercy, even an army of scrawny little cops.
“It’s probably nothing,” she says.
“That note is a helluva lot more than nothing,” I tell her. “He sounds unreasonably possessive and seriously angry at you for no damn reason. Do you really want to wait and see if he’s possessive and angry enough to actually hurt you?”
“Well, no,” Mercy answers with her shoulders hunched in the baggy, white shirt.
“Damn right you don’t. If he comes back, I’ll take care of him,” I tell her. “Our brother, Reece, can install a high-tech security camera in your house too.”
“He doesn’t have to–” she starts.
“Yes, he does,” I declare with a slap of my palm on the table to try and cut off her arguing.
“I don’t remember you being this bossy yesterday,” Mercy says.
“Oh really?” I ask as I slouch back in the chair to give my aching cock a little more room to grow in my jeans. “Because I remember you nearly breaking an ankle to get inside your house and get naked for me.”
…
Mercy
And there it is.
Just when I thought that I could be in the same room as Abe without any shame or embarrassment about what we did together yesterday, he has to go and say things that…things that make my lower belly warm and tighten like it’s a volcano that’s ready to erupt. Which isn’t far from the truth. All it took was a few gruff words from him and my panties turn into the physical proof that it wouldn’t take much more than a touch of one of Abe’s thick fingers, talented tongue or huge cock to cause an explosion.
“Fine, so yes, I had a momentary lapse forgetting your bossiness,” I tell him. “But could we please not bring all that up in our normal conversation since it’s not going to happen again?” I really don’t need to hear another man complain about how selfish or frigid I am.
“Right,” Abe says.
“And I’m pretty tired, so I think I’ll head upstairs to get a shower and go to bed,” I declare as I push my chair back and get to my feet. Mostly because I need to relieve the building pressure between my legs or I may have a spontaneous orgasm from just being in the same room as Abe.
“Right,” Abe says again. “I’ll, ah, call Reece and see how long it’ll take to get a security system installed.”
“Thanks,” I tell him rather than try to talk him out of playing the part of my bodyguard or telling him a security system is unnecessary. The truth is, I already feel much safer knowing Abe will be close by, and the added precautions won’t hurt.
Now, if I could just figure o
ut who the hell left me the rose and the note.
Heading up the stairs, I find Sasha and Chase in one of the other bedrooms, putting linens on the bed.
“Your room is ready,” Sasha tells me as she smooths out the wrinkles in the comforter and then straightens.
“Thank you, both of you, for letting me stay. The thought of going back to my house tonight just makes me feel really creepy,” I say, barely able to contain a full body shiver.
“Anytime,” Sasha says when she comes over and gives me another hug. “The bathroom in the hallway is all yours since Chase and I use the one in his parents' old room.”
“Great. I’ll probably take a quick shower before calling it a night,” I tell her.
“We’re right across the hall if you need anything,” Sasha says before she leaves.
I follow them out, eager to rinse off the sweat and try to cool my hormones under the shower spray.
In the bathroom, I close and lock the door, and then start the water running while I undress, deciding instead to soak in a warm bath rather than stand. When the water is high enough, I step over into the tub and lower myself into the sloshy depths.
Instantly, all the coiled muscles in my arms, legs, back and neck begin to relax. I rest my head on the shower wall and try to soak up the peacefulness.
“How long will it take? No, man that’s too long. You need to get it here faster! I don’t care how much it costs.”
Abe’s gruff, angry voice filters up the bathroom window from outside where he must be talking on his phone since I can only hear his side of the conversation.
He sounds so bossy and demanding, which only makes the throbbing between my legs even worse. Just hearing him speak shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does.
Needing some relief, I ease my hand down my stomach and underneath the water until my fingertips are pressed against my clitoris. I close my eyes and try to remember the way it felt to have Abe’s tongue in the same spot yesterday while I touch myself, but nothing happens. I don’t know if it’s because I’m in my best friend’s house trying to masturbate in her tub, but I can’t recapture the feeling on my own. How absurd am I right now?
Eventually, after the water turns cool, Abe’s voice disappears, and there’s still no relief in sight, I give up on the attempt to relieve some stress. After pulling the drain stopper, I stand up and grab the towel on the closest rack to dry off.
Since my sports bra and panties were so sweaty from my run, I decide to forgo them and simply put the t-shirt Sasha let me borrow back on and then slip on my athletic shorts. With my underwear in my hands, I step out of the bathroom and come face to face with a bearded giant. Even though both men in the house were wearing the same leather cut and jeans, I don’t even have to look up to know the one in front of me is Abe. He’s taller and probably twice as wide as Chase.
“Hey,” he says. “Are those your panties?”
“Um, yes,” I reply before I hide the clothing behind my back and look up to see his face. Those dark, intense eyes are focused on my chest that’s still a little damp and practically see-through in the white cotton. As if aware of his gaze, my nipples harden into points like they’re loving Abe’s undivided attention.
While I would love to just slip into the bedroom and end the awkward standoff, it’s impossible to get past Abe unless I want to get down on all fours and crawl through his legs.
Which would put me…right at eyelevel with his boastful bulge growing behind his zipper.
Great, I’m standing in my best friend’s hallway, scantily dressed, staring at a man’s crotch while he stares at my breasts.
“I was just, um, going to my room,” I tell Abe, hoping he’ll get the hint and move.
“Oh. Right,” he replies. I glance up at his face and find that his eyes are still focused on my nipples. “I just wanted to let you know that I talked to Reece, our IT genius. He said he’ll have a security system here and installed by tomorrow night.”
“Oh, thanks,” I reply, assuming that’s what he was fussing about on the phone earlier. Earlier, when I was trying to masturbate while thinking about him. “Let me know how much I owe you…” I start before Abe interrupts, as is becoming his habit.
“I can pay for it. I’m not as poor as I look,” he snaps.
“I-I didn’t think you were…poor,” I tell him.
“Whatever. I’ll cover the costs,” he says before he finally turns to the side so that I can get past him.
“Okay. Well, goodnight,” I say.
“Night,” he replies. Then, he turns and goes back down the stairs before I can even blurt out a pitiful invitation for him to join me in the bedroom to give me the relief I couldn’t find on my own.
Chapter Ten
Abe
The next morning I’m tired and grumpy as fuck from not getting any sleep. How could I when the sexiest woman in the world was sleeping right up the stairs. After seeing her in the hallway without a bra on, I wanted to be in that room with her. No, not just with her but inside of her.
But Mercy didn’t give me any indication that I was welcome in her bed, and my job was to watch out for her, so I crashed on the sofa instead of Chase and Sasha’s other guestroom. That would’ve put me in a bed too close to Mercy. Besides, I wanted to keep an eye on the driveway to make sure the creep, who is apparently obsessed with her, didn’t follow her to the farmhouse.
As soon as Mercy woke up and came downstairs, she said she had to go home to get ready. I followed her back to her place on my bike so that she could shower and whatever else women do.
While she’s in her bathroom, I wander through the entire one-story house and make sure that all of the locks on the windows are in place, then pull all the blinds closed so no one can look in on Mercy when she’s undressing or just going about her daily routine.
I didn’t realize how exhausted I really was until Mercy steps into the living room. She’s wearing a purple dress that crisscrosses at her waist and hugs her curves. Just the sight of her nearly knocks me off my feet.
“I’m ready,” she says before I can tell her how hot she looks. “I love the bike, but I guess we better take my car today?”
“Yeah,” I agree, my voice so husky that it sounds more like “eh.” And she loves my bike? I can’t wait to have her on the back of it again.
After I check the yard to make sure it’s clear and then lock up the house tight, I go around and squeeze into the passenger seat of her BMW. Once I’m seated, I have to quickly find the lever to move the seat backward because my knees are digging into the damn dashboard.
Mercy’s giggle in the silence has my heavy eyes cutting to hers. I throw her a gruff, “What?” even though the sound of her laughing is beautiful just like her, and it makes me want to pull her onto my lap and kiss her pouty, red lips. I didn’t even kiss her on the lips the other day, did I? I’m such a moron.
“You’re too big for my car,” Mercy says, smiling her perfect smile that’s contagious.
“I’m not too big,” I tell her while adjusting the seat as far as it will go and then resting my palms on my thighs. “See, I fit.”
“Barely,” Mercy points out as she looks up to where my hair is grazing the roof. “Will the seatbelt go around you?”
“Yes,” I huff. “I’m not a fat ass.”
“I wasn’t implying that you were,” she responds. “You’re a big man, that’s all. There’s nothing wrong with that. You look…capable.”
“Capable?” I repeat.
“Yeah,” she says. “Capable of picking men up by their necks and throwing them around like the Hulk.”
“The angry, green man?”
“Yeah, but a lot of women like that. They want a protector who they can depend on to keep them safe,” she tells me as she buckles her seatbelt.
And yeah, my chest puffs out a little at the thought of her seeing me as her protector. That’s why I’m hanging out with her today, right? To keep any psychos away. Whatever the reason, I like being
hers, even if the only reason she wants me around is to protect her. That must be it since she didn’t invite me into her bedroom last night. Mercy said the sex was great but not great enough to fuck me again.
Which blows.
It would’ve sucked to have to be near her if I didn’t know how sweet her pussy tasted or how incredible it feels to be inside of her without a rubber. But now that I do know all of those things, it’s going to be fucking torture to stop myself from getting distracted when I’m supposed to be acting as her bodyguard.
We get parked in front of the huge warehouse type building, and then I walk Mercy straight inside to a room that actually has her name on the door. It’s a little impressive, and I want to take a photo of it when she’s not looking.
I take it that this is supposed to be Mercy’s dressing room since it’s full of racks of clothes and bright ass lights around mirrors. Two random women come in a moment later, moving in a hurry as one starts rubbing shit on Mercy’s face and the other takes a hot iron thing to her hair. Why are they doing all that? I have no fucking clue since her face and hair looked gorgeous the way she had it after her shower. Hell, the woman even looked amazing right out of bed this morning when she came down the stairs.
“So, ah, what’s this show about?” I ask Mercy as the two women continue to frantically work on her and she sits stock-still like a statue of a Greek goddess.
“It’s a, ah, a dating show,” Mercy answers.
“A fucking dating show?” I repeat.
“Uh-huh.”
“So you signed up to date some random guy on television?” I ask, unable to wrap my head around the idea.
“Something like that…”
“There are actually twenty guys,” the hairdresser person, who is obviously eavesdropping on our conversation, casually throws out.
“Twenty!” I exclaim, and without moving her head, Mercy’s green eyes cut to mine and narrow as if to warn me to cool it.
“My bodyguard is concerned about my safety around so many strangers,” Mercy tells the hairdresser. And I get that she put an emphasis on strangers since she and I have only known each other for two days. I don’t care for the way she refers to me as just her bodyguard either, even if that is the only title I have. For whatever reason, I want to make a t-shirt that proclaims that I’ve had my tongue in Mercy’s pussy for so long I can still taste her even days after the act. And I swear I can. Even if it was just one time, it seems important enough to broadcast my accomplishment. I doubt Mercy feels the same, however.