Page 43 of Merciless

“You’re trouble.”

“So are you,” I counter.

His eyes shutter as I continue teasing him.

I close mine, focusing on his hardness against my foot, trying to imagine how thick and long he is.

My mouth waters as I picture discovering the truth with my tongue.

Whore,a little voice screams. But I slam it down.

I’m locked up with nothing else to do. What’s wrong with having a little fun where I can find it?

It’s stupid. He’s barely touching me, and yet, it’s like he’s everywhere. His manly scent overpowers the antiseptic cream, and the heat of his fingers makes every inch of my skin tingle with awareness.

“Fuck, you’re sexy,” he murmurs, making my eyes spring open.

I’m pretty sure there are only a handful of days when I’ve looked worse than I do right now, but the way his eyes burn with desire, I can’t help but believe him.

“Julian,” I breathe when his hands begin to slide higher.

My nipples pebble, pressing against the lace of my bra and the jersey I’m wearing, begging to be freed.

I rub him harder, faster, hoping to break through whatever is holding him back.

“Fuck, Dove. Don’t do that.”

Lifting my uninjured arm from the bed, I walk my fingers up my stomach, making JD’s eyes widen with interest before I cup one of my breasts.

“Oh God.” I moan, but the pleasure only lasts a few seconds before JD’s cell’s ringtone cuts through the air and shatters the tension.

“Fuck,” he barks, lowering my other foot to join the other on his lap before digging his cell from his pocket. “Fucking asshole.”

Tipping his face to the ceiling, he sucks in a breath through clenched teeth before slipping from beneath me and getting to his feet.

“Yeah,” he snaps into the phone.

There’s a deep voice on the other end, and whatever he says makes JD’s jaw lock up tight.

“You’re a cunt,” he snaps, before hanging up and dropping his cell back into the pocket of his sweats, making the fabric pull tight across his already more than obvious erection.

He swallows thickly as he holds my eyes for a beat, but they soon drop lower.

“Shit,” he hisses before shoving his hand into his sweats to rearrange himself.

“Tease,” I mutter, when he obviously squeezes himself to find some relief.

“Rain check?”

I shake my head. “Run along, little puppy, your master has called.”

His brows pinch as irritation darkens his eyes.

“This isn’t over.”

Turning his back on me, he stalks toward the door.

“Wait,” I cry before my brain catches up with my lips.

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