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Fuck, Mercer Bentley! Do not fall in love with a thirty-year-old assassin!
He doesn’t hesitate when he gets to us. One hand slips to my lower back and he takes his place beside me. Not in front of me or angled to block me. Right at my side.
“She basically saw me in full-blown slut mode, so cut her some slack.” I turn, our lips almost grazing. “Some slack? You cut her no slack that night.” “No. But now that she’s not in my way, I’m mature enough to reshuffle the deck.” I meet his eyes. “Please be jealous. I’ve never made anyone jealous before.”
“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re the manipulative one in this relationship.” I smirk, but it falls away pretty quickly. What the hell did I just say?
“Oh, I want him to notice. I want him to know that while he neglected you, I accepted you. That he wasn’t strong enough to handle someone as fucking incredible as you, but I’m strong enough to embrace you. I want him to know that his fuck ups are my rewards. You, Mercer, are mine, and I want him to know it. I caught your relationship slip-up.”
Mr. Demon. I’m a mister now.
The thoughtful man who wants to pay attention to all my feelings, or the aggressive dominant who wants to step up to the plate to play my game. I think I love them both because they both see me. No matter which version of himself he’s being, he sticks to his promise of not ignoring me.
I’m a fucking slut for it. All of it. The hard and the soft. The way he gives me all his attention.
“A smart, bratty little boy with so much fire, but no idea how to keep it burning. I’m going to make you burn, Mercer.”
“I respect you,” he tells me, making me whimper. “But I will fucking use you like you want to be used. I can do both. Understand?” “Blake,” I beg.
I’m suffocating blissfully, blacking out from pleasure, and choking on the only man I’ve ever fallen for.
“Answer me, Ben.” “Don’t call me Ben!” I scream at him. “Wasn’t so long ago you were telling me not to call you Mercer. Who are you? Ben or Mercer?” He leans down, right in my face, scaring me and empowering me. “Ben or Mercer?” “Mercer!” I yell, and with the declaration of my name, my real name, those tears fall down my cheeks and an anguished cry of self-love that hurts so fucking badly comes straight from my chest. “Mercer.”
“Mercer is mine. Mercer is yours. Mercer is fucking badass with all the strength in the world. He doesn’t need to suck his fingers and hide from his family. My Mercer is the strongest person I know.”
“Don’t leave me.” “I’ll never leave you, baby. Get up. Stand up, Mercer. Don’t let Ben win.”
“You’re going to ruin my life,” Blake says with a smile on his face. “And make it fucking fun. You’re going to be my brat when you want to be, my partner all the time, and my good little boy when you need to be reminded how fucking important you are. You know what I’m going to be for you?” I shake my head, crying again. Desperate to know what he’s going to be for me. Wondering if he’s as psychotic as I am, falling this hard this soon. “Everything. Yours. You fucking own me, Mercer. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Blake?” “Yeah, baby.” “Thanks for… seeing me.” He smiles at me, still sweaty and exhausted. “I’ll never stop looking, Mercer.” I blush like an asshole because holy shit, he’s a romantic murderer.
“Where’s home, Mercer? Tell me where you feel safe.” “With you.”
I wiggle on his lap until he blinks his eyes open, showing me that deep blue gaze that’s become the lighthouse in all my storms.
“This is rock bottom, baby.” Weirdly, it doesn’t feel like the lowest I’ve ever been. I’m not alone this time.
“Fuck knows how you did it, little demon, but you did.” His lips move against mine, kissing and confessing together. “Did what?” “Made me yours.”
As much as I love the view, I’m fucking seething. That body is mine to look at and mine alone. The dagger flies right by his head and sticks into the ridiculous photo of a bunch of piano keys on his wall. He doesn’t even flinch, but he sure as shit smirks deeper.
“Fuck you, Blake,” I snap at him. “Keira, I have a window wall and a bed. Let’s go. Pancakes can be delivered to us.”
Well, goddammit! I’m a brat because it’s my coping method! Gah! I really wanted that to be my actual personality, and like hell am I letting it go. The brat life is for me, and I’m not giving it up.
Mercer won’t talk to me, but it’s a little bit funny. While giving me the silent treatment, he’s being the loudest fucking attention whore I’ve ever met. I’ve earned it, I guess.
“You think you can out-brat me, Blake Carter?” “It’s kind of fun to be an asshole.” I shrug, grinning at him. “I see why you do it.” “Good fucking luck, little boy,” he sneers the pet name, hoping it’ll make me angry. It doesn’t. Especially because he looks jealous. Jealous of his own mouth muttering a nickname meant for him. I kind of love how complicated and hypocritical he is. I laugh, and he smacks my chest.
“Fuck you, Blake! It’s not my fault you treat me like I’m breakable!” He shoves me again, so I use the momentum to take his legs out and push his back to the floor. “Ow! You heavy bitch!”
The box in question is still on the floor at the end of the island, so he picks it up and brings it back, sitting his ass on the coffee table where I initially commanded him to sit. So easy.
If Mercer chose to, he could con Earth into rotating the opposite way; he just needs to learn to trust his instincts. He’ll get there.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” I start, smoothing a hand over his ass before pulling his boxers back up. “You’re going to show me everything in that box, and I’m going to control this toy. The game is willpower. Who will crack first, Mercer? Will I bend you over and fuck you because I get jealous of this toy, or are you going to reach your cum limit without ever begging for it?” “So, getting fucked means losing?” he scoffs. “I’ll lose. Fuck me now, Blake.”
“For one, I’ve been hating this fucking mine since it got put into my name. Way more trouble than it’s worth. For two, I made a deal with his mother. For three, my only goal in any of this is to ruin Will Palmerston. And fourthly, and this one is the biggest.” He turns to face me. “You love that boy, Blake. You love him.” Yeah, I fucking do.
He hasn’t risen from the dead yet, but we are on a mission together. I call it a job; he calls it a mission. So naturally, now I also call it a mission because I’m the biggest fucking pushover for this guy. It’s pathetic.
I climb off the couch to pace, calling my dad. As soon as he picks up, I feel Mercer tugging on the back of my shirt, trying not to get in my way, but being clingy because that’s who he is. A boy with abandonment issues and a fear of being alone. I smooth a hand over his hair, showing him he isn’t bothering me.
I went from being a scared and lonely boy to being his shadow, and I don’t know how to differentiate the two personalities. My abandonment issues cling to him, but my newfound sense of self reminds me I’ve got what it takes to stand on my own two feet.
“I want their trip home monitored. I want to know what Julia is doing. And I want every geographic map and aerial footage of that cabin.” My fingers hover over the keyboard, not knowing how to obtain all that. I look at Aaron for another lesson. “Help me, I’m poor.” Aaron laughs. Blake laughs. Brandt laughs. My fucking family.
I’ve never been in love before, and if this is how intense it is, call me a fucking goner, because there’s no coming back from this.
Lethal. Sexy. In-fucking-charge. That’s his look.
“I don’t know, Mercer. What do you want out of life?” “What a lame question.” He slurps his milkshake. “Answer it anyway. You’ve never had the option to decide before.” “Hot sex. A hacker’s apartment like my new idol Aaron. To be the man in the mic. Sexy outfits.” He tucks his head and mumbles, “You.”
Dee rips open his door. “Blake,” she greets me. “Asshole,” she greets Mercer. “You ready?” He scoffs. She scoffs back. Condescending laughter follows from both of them. Godspeed to their time spent together.
My baby boy is out there strutting his hot ass around downtown as we speak, and he’ll be pronounced as found anytime now.
And that’s not even the best part. Blake, my calm, cool cucumber, is stuttering like a sexy fool. “It’s, I mean, I bought it forever ago, but I never… and when you said you liked… I just, you know? Like it was meant… to be? Because we’re both… and I want you to feel like it’s yours as much as… fucking hell.”
“What’s this?” he teases. “Horny and happy? Guess you do fuck in the right frame of mind.” “It’s new.” “You’re welcome.” “Less talking. More wall-fucking.”
He says he’s in his rustic home phase.
“I’ve never had a home that feels safe before,” he says honestly. “I’m trying to nest and you’re ruining it.” His bottom lip sticks out. Work vanishes from my mind. His words hit me hard, like he knew they would, and now I want to make this the best house decorating, nesting, homecoming night he’s ever going to have.
“Fuck my cock, baby. Open yourself up so I can ruin you.”
“Why are you walking like that?” Bronson asks as soon as I walk into Aaron’s apartment. Because I got dicked-down and bred by the god of thunder last night. “Exercise.”
He closes the door and drops all his things, closing the distance between us. I reach for him at the same time he reaches for me, and then he’s dragging my body over the back of the couch and I’m clinging to him like he’s the only air I need. “Fuck, I missed you, baby.” He hugs me tight, kissing me everywhere he can.
“Thanks for coming back,” I whisper. “I will always come back. I promise.” He rubs my back. “Tell me what you need, Mercer.” I wipe my nose and look at him. Deep blue eyes and dark hair are my favourite combination. Sometimes, despite how cocky I am about it to Dee, I can’t believe he’s actually mine. “I need you to do that thing where you smother me with your body and touch me all over while I sleep.” “You mean cuddle?” I scoff. “No.”
“Tell me you’re mine, Mercer.” I tighten my grip just a little, spreading cum up and down his length with my cock still buried in his ass. “I’m yours,” he breathes, rocking in my lap. “I’m yours, Blake.” “My greedy little cumslut?” “Yes.” “My bratty boy?” “Mm, yes.”
“Listen here, Brantley, I am like a mosquito. I will pester and suck you dry until I get what I’m after. You know this.” “He better not know this,” Blake snips.
