“Fuck, Effa,” he growls low, his mouth ghosting over mine. “You’re already so wet for me.”
I moan, my head falling back against the wall as his fingers slide through my folds, teasing me in lazy, delicious strokes. My body arches toward him on instinct, desperate for more. Heslides one finger inside me, slow and deliberate, curling it just enough to have my knees buckling.
“Mercs…” I breathe, my voice barely there, trembling with need.
“Shhh…” he murmurs against my neck, nipping me with his teeth. “You don’t need to say a word, baby. I’ve got you.” He adds another finger, thrusting them deep, and my hips start to rock against his hand, chasing the rising wave. The pressure is building, winding tight, my body begging for release.
But just as I teeter on the edge, he pulls back. His fingers still, slipping free with a wet sound that leaves me panting and strung out.
My eyes snap open, wide and desperate. “Why’d you stop?”
Mercs smirks, dark and broody. “Because I can. Because I like knowing you want it just as bad as I do. And because I’m not giving you anything… not yet.”
A frustrated whimper escapes me, and he brushes my cheek with the back of his knuckles, his eyes gleaming with wicked intent. “Next time,” he promises, his voice low and gruff. “Next time, I’ll make you come so hard you’ll forget your own name.” He presses a final, punishing kiss to my lips and then steps back, leaving me breathless, aching, and furious in the best kind of way.
“I need to pack,” I mutter, trying to regain my composure, even as my thighs clench and my pulse still races.
“I’ll help,” he says, adjusting the bulge in his jeans with a hiss of frustration. “Even though that’s the last fucking thing I want to do. What I want is to tear off your underwear and bend you over the damn bed and take what’smine.”
A knock at the door cuts through the tension, and Mercs lets out a guttural groan. He rakes a hand through his hair, shifting his cock again as it strains against his zipper.
“That better not be that fucker back again.”
“Mercs, I like this protective side of you.”
He throws me a devilish smirk before stalking to the door.
As I pull on my clothes, the sound of Luke’s irritated voice cuts through the room.
“Why are you two still in here? The bus is ready to leave. Get your fucking asses into gearnow.”
“Effa’s just packing the last of her things. We’ll be down soon.”
“Make sure you are. Everyone is waiting.”
The door clicks shut, and Mercs returns, immediately scooping up clothing from across the floor and tossing it into my suitcase like they personally offended him.
As I watch him—breathless, and still hard—I wonder where he went last night. We need to talk about it. But right now, knowing he came back, knowing he wants me this badly, it dulls the ache of uncertainty just enough.
Still, the fact that he left at all sits like a rock in my gut.
And as we pack in silence, I can’t help but think this is going to be one uncomfortable flight.
Chapter Fourteen
MERCS
On the plane, most of the crew andSwift Divisionare already aboard. With my hand resting on the small of Effa’s back, I guide her down the aisle toward the rear, where a red curtain separates the first class section.
As we walk past Jett, his eyes track her like a fucking hawk.
“Hey, cupcake,” he calls, cocky as ever. “Sit with me and keep me company?”
Effa doesn’t even slow down, but she answers with, “Jett, take it down a notch,” she snaps, not bothering to look back.
I smirk to myself and lead her through the curtain. We slip into two plush leather seats side-by-side, and I reach over to fasten her seatbelt.
She quirks a brow, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “I could have done that myself.”
