Page 46 of Begging for Mercy
Taking Mercy’s other hand, I gently tug her into the booth, wrapping my arm around her waist to pull her the rest of the way in. Nestling her against my side, I hold my glass of gin up to her lips. As she greedily gulps the clear liquid, I admire the drop that breaks free and slides down her chin. With a groan, I move theglass out of the way and claim the droplet for myself, licking its trail back up to her lips.
Sam kicks my shin under the table, and I flick my gaze over to him, smirking as I kiss the corner of Mercy’s lips. “Someone’s jealous,” I rumble, chuckling from the depths of my soul. I love a jealous bastard, even if itisSam. Grasping Mercy’s chin, I turn her face directly towards him as I kiss a path down to her neck. “Show him how good it feels.” I thumb her pulse point as I kiss a tender spot on her neck, and she gasps appropriately, suddenly clutching my thigh with her kitten claws. Her nails scratch the fabric, leaving little room for imagining how it would feel against my skin, and I amlivingfor it.
Exhaling across her neck, I murmur in her ear. “Good girl.”
By the time I sit back up and pour myself another glass, I realize that it isn’t only Sam who’s fuming at the sudden PDA—Zane is, too, only he’s handling it better.
“Relax, boys,” I chuckle. “There’s more than enough of us to go around.”
Mercy’s warm eyes widen. “You want to…” She trips over the wordshare, so I let go of her waist to grab Zane’s shirt. I tug, delighted when he fails to catch himself and quite literally slams into her other side. In all of two seconds, we’ve boxed Mercy between us, and lover boy across the table islivid.
“Get your hands off of her,” Sam hisses, slamming the heel of his shoe into my toes. He grinds down as hard as he’s grinding his teeth. “Or I will fuckingkillyou.”
I lift my hands so that they aren’t touching Mercy. “Alright, alright, let’s play nice.” Sliding a hand over the nape of Zane’s neck, I play with the ends of his hair and keep my drink in my other hand. “Satisfied, pretty boy?”
Zane stiffens again, but I work some of the tension out by deliberately kneading his muscles. Man’s tense as shit. He needs to fucking relax.
Weallneed to relax.
I snap my fingers and call the server over. “Another round for my friends. Mercy, baby, what do you want?” She orders a red wine while Zane chokes out avodka tonic—fucking disgusting—and Sam gets a goddamn soda. I roll my fucking eyes. “Live a little,shit.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, inadvertently showing off how tightly the fabric cling to his body. Yeah, the guy’s a linebacker, alright. Yummy. It’s no wonder Mercy likes him, because it sure as shit ain’t for his personality. “One of us should stay sober.”
“Couldn’t be me.” I take a hearty gulp of my gin. Weirdest fucking dinner date ever, but I kind of dig it.
Mercy’s quiet as a mouse, having some kind of telepathic conversation with Sam from across the table. They stare at each other without blinking, and then she tilts her head towards Zane. “I kicked him in the face, so we’re even.”
“Youmissed,” Zane snorts, finally contributing to the group convo. “The only reason you got so banged up is because you fuckingbitme.”
I snicker into my glass. “Kinky.”
Elbowing my ribs, Mercy huffs. “Don’t turn everything sexual!”
“Like there’s more to him than his dick.” The insult arrives faster than I expect, the malice in Sam’s eyes making it hurt.
Frowning, I lift my middle finger off my glass to point it at him. “Fuck you, Wright. There’s plenty more to me than my dick.”
Our drinks arrive, and we place our food order. Silence falls over the table, and Mercy’s the one who breaks it with a tinkling little laugh that soothes some of the tension brewing between the four of us. “If I’d known that asking you three on a date would be this bad, I never would have suggested it!”
“Whydidyou suggest it?” Zane leans into my touch, and I eat that shit up, idly scratching his scalp. “And don’t say some bullshit about ‘getting to know us’ better.”
“But it’s true!” She wiggles like she’s trying to get some room but quickly gives up once it’s clear that neither Zane or I are moving. “Guys, can I have some space?”
“No,” we answer simultaneously. I meet Zane’s eyes and smile at how they soften just enough for me to know that he’s actually going to be okay. That silent brooding shit gets old fast. But then I notice his shirt—some kind of billowy pillowcase thing I’ve never seen before—and laugh in his face. “Ha! What the fuck are you wearing?”
He blushes, a bright stripe of pink across his cheekbones. “I didn’t plan on going out! I had to improvise!”
Mercy links her arm through his and leans away from me to smile sweetly at him. “I think he looks dashing.”
This time, Sam and I exchange looks. What thefuckdid we miss with these two?
“If I knew you liked it rough, sweetheart, we could have traded blows days ago.” Cheekily, I press my tongue into the pocket of my cheek until she gets the reference. “But there’s still time. My lap’s open.”
Sam looks between the three of us like he can’t believe this is happening. I’m likely to agree. Shit’s wild. Didn’t expect this in my wildest dreams.
But.
It makes the prospect of sharing even sweeter.
