Jack didn’t answer, watching me undress, biting his damn lip.
I didn’t bother with finesse. If I was going to take him a few times before dawn, I had to get started on that. Soon as I was naked, I needed some skin-to-skin. He was burning up, dripping with need. I ran my fingers over his tender flesh using feather-light touches, and slammed him into the wall again, wrapping one of his thick legs around my torso.
He panted into my mouth as I kissed him and rutted his poor dick against whatever surface area he could find, which happened to be my belly. “You need it don’t you?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Tell me.”
“I need it, Mercy. Fucking sadist. You’re gonna make me beg, eh?”
“Fucking, rights. Tell me what you need.” My toes curled into the wooden floors. A soft summer breeze blew in from one of the windows that was left open—dammit, thank fuck no one saw fit to rob the place—and something just fit about him being right where he was. In my house.
He reached between my legs. “This. Will you fuck me, Mercy? I don’t wanna remember my name for a little while and then I want something to remember you by.”
Chapter3
Fuck It
MERCY
Ilook over what I’ve written. God, I write the most fucked up shit. Thank fuck no one will ever read this. I may have promised the lot of them that I would write in the thing, but no way am I letting anyone near a single word.
The flight attendants are doing their thing, trying to get us a drink before our short flight lands. I don’t have much time left and now that I’m into this journaling thing, I want to finish the rest. Maybe I should wait until I’m in the safety of my new condo? Or well, the one I get to use on the Kelowna Wildcats’s dime. That way I can masturbate for the fiftieth time to Jack porn.
It’s the only porn in my head since … fuck. I open the damn journal again and write faster.
* * *
Mercy’s Log
Icouldn’t get him up the stairs fast enough. That’s where the lube was. I’d already gotten the sense that he was a freaky boy, but I wasn’t taking him without lube without knowing anything about him.
And I really had planned on being nice. Careful.
I soon learned that’s an impossibility with him.
A damn opened. I wanted to ruin him inside and out. Throwing him on the bed, I attacked, but he attacked back showing off some of that power and agility that lurked beneath a tranquil surface. I didn’t have my dad to teach me to fight—he wouldn’t harm a fruit fly—but that’s what hockey was for.
I pinned him to the bed, showing him where I wanted his arms over his head. “Keep these here.”
He bit his fucking lip.Jesus Christwith the lip biting. Before I knew what I was doing, I dived in to taste that lip, and then I was laid out on my back on the bed thanks to a maniac disguised as an adorable blond puppy. “Fucking,ow, Jack.”
“Thought I’d demonstrate what I told you at the pub. It’s called Krav Ma Ga.”
Now he was on top and kissing me. He was powerful, but I wanted top spot back even if the only power I’d have over him is how much he liked to be a good boy. I flipped him over and prowled ready to eat him.
I nuzzled his bare cock, licking away the bit of cum that had pearled at the head.
“Jesus, Mercy. Haven’t I suffered enough?”
My name on his lips … I liked it. “Only the beginning, buttercup.”
He groaned and torturing him became my new favorite pastime. I lathed my tongue up his body, mapping each of the muscles of his twenty-five-year-old’s eighteen-pack and then I pinned his wrists over his head again. “Move those again and I stop,” I told him.
“Yes, sir, Merc—dammit.”
A burst of heat flared in my chest. “Don’t stop calling me ‘sir’ on my account.”
