Page 19 of The Devil's Bargain
“Are you going to report me, Detective?” Mercy chuckled, then motioned him closer with his chin. “Come. You have to be hungry.”
“I’m not.”
“Eat anyway.”
“Mercy—”
“Eat. That wasn’t a suggestion.”
The tray was pulled to Mercy’s side of the desk, another silent command to approach. There was a decent selection on it, though all of the items were finger foods. He selected a cube of cheese and ate it, growing impatient when Calix still didn’t move. The warning look he sent his way was enough to finally get Cal into motion.
He huffed and rounded the desk, propping a hip against the edge at Mercy’s side. But when he reached for a piece of fruit, the director swatted his hand away.
Mercy ignored his sound of indignation and reached for it himself, picking up the small pink fruit and bringing it up to Cal’s lips. When Calix didn’t open for him, he didn’t seem bothered, dragging the fruit across the seam of his mouth, painting him with sweet juices.
Calix parted and sucked the fruit in just to get him to stop. Chewing as he crossed his arms, making sure to push his frustration through the strange, invisible bond that tied them together. There was a brush of humor, another of interest, but itdidn’t take him more than a second to realize the first was from Mercy and the second came from Aodhan, wherever he was.
They remained like that for a bit, with the director quietly feeding him, until the tension became far too much for Calix to handle.
“You’re enjoying this more than you should be,” he stated.
Mercy smiled. “Do you think? A First should take care of his Third. It’s an honor to even have one.”
That was the first time he was saying it like that. Usually, the honor was Calix’s.
He wasn’t buying it.
“Don’t use your position to excuse away your controlling nature.” Cal made a big show of reaching for another piece of food himself, grunting when Mercy captured his wrist before he could touch any of it. “See? This isn’t caring. It’s domineering.”
“Would you like me to dominate you, little monster?” He glanced pointedly at the door. “Here?”
“Mercy.”
“I love when you call me that, did you know? Only Aodhan has ever called me that before. You both say it so differently. He says it possessively, but you? There’s a hint of pleading in your tone every time. Are you doing it on purpose, I wonder?”
“Let go.” He tugged lightly on his wrist, knowing better than to put up a real fight. It would only spur the director on. “We’re both on the clock.”
“Would you like to be on my desk?” He tipped his head, considering, and then shook it. “No. I’d rather you be under it.”
Mercy pushed his chair back and then tipped his head. “Well?”
Calix stared at the space between the director and the desk and pursed his lips. “There’s no way I’m crawling under there. We aren’t children.”
“Trust me,” he practically purred in response, “the last thing I have in mind for you is something childish. On your knees, little monster. You were late. It’s time to pay the penalty.”
“I was late because you—”
He clicked his tongue, instantly silencing him. “Are you going to argue? You’ll only make it worse for yourself if you do. Actually, I don’t mind if you do. I could have you under the desk and on top of it. There’s no rule that says it has to be one or the other.”
“Yeah,” Cal muttered, “because you make the rules.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“Do you really need to throw your weight around like this?”
“You said it yourself, I’m controlling. Knees. Now. If I have to say it again—”
“Fine.” Calix dropped to the floor dramatically, twisting until he was mostly under the desk, glaring up at Mercy. He knew what was coming, it was obvious, but he didn’t make any moves to start things off himself.
