Page 199 of Merciless

I’ve been hard as fucking steel since the second I heard her cry out. And then when her eyes locked on mine as JD finger-fucked her into oblivion. Fuck. Me. It was everything.

Although not quite enough for me to take up his offer of helping.

From where I was standing, he certainly didn’t need any.

There was a part of me that wanted to pull out my gun and take his fucking head off. But the other, more insistent part, begged me just to watch.

Watching him drive her crazy was something fucking else.

And the moment he threw her over the edge.

Fuck.

I haven’t come that close to coming in my pants since I was a fucking preteen.

Fucking pathetic.

I just had to remind myself that this is what she does. It’s why Victor made her his whore.

She holds this magical power to reel men in with her sexuality and make them do what she wants.

Or she’s just so broken that she doesn’t know anything else,a little voice starts up.

“When did you first move in with Maverick?” I ask, needing a distraction from reliving the moment she fell with her eyes locked on mine over and over in my head.

She looks up, her loaded fork lowering as she tries to figure out why I’m asking.

“You disappeared at sixteen from what I remember. Then you suddenly turned up married to Mav at eighteen. How did that happen exactly?”

“Bro, just let her enjoy her dinner,” JD says.

Alana swallows nervously as she reaches for her wine.

I can’t say that I’m a red wine fan. Nor is JD. So imagine my shock when I found multiple bottles of a certain wine in my cupboard after his little shopping trip the other day.

I assumed that she told him her favorite. But I can’t find any evidence of that on the footage from the live stream.

“We were always friends. We reconnected.”

“Bullshit,” I spit.

“Reid,” JD barks, while Alana practically downs her wine, her face growing hot.

“You never left, did you?”

Her eyes lift to mine, and I find nothing but pure fear staring back at me. Her chest heaves as if she can’t drag in the air she needs.

Usually, I feed off that fear, use it to fuel me to dig out the information I really want.

So why does that look in her eyes make my chest constrict?

Suddenly, the glass that was in her hand falls, shattering on the tiled floor at her feet, sending red wine splashing everywhere.

“Dove, what’s wrong?” JD gasps as Alana reaches up and grips her throat, her face now red and patchy.

“W-what was in th-th-that?” she rasps, staring at the curry.

“Chicken and—”

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