Page 78 of Mercy & Malice

I kiss him and shift over him, my knees on each side of his hips as I rock against him, feeling the hard bulge beneath heightens my desire.

He rotates, shifting so my back is on the mattress, him above me as he presses into me. His mouth trails down my neck. When my hands slide into his boxer briefs, he shifts down and pulls my panties off as he kisses along my stomach. I remove my tank, lying completely nude as he hovers over me. I see the desire in his heated gaze.

His mouth returns to mine for a second before he moves down, settling between my thighs. As his fingers slide inside me, I arch off the bed to meet his touch, and the corner of his mouth rises as he lowers to stroke his tongue over me. Meeting the thrust of his fingers, he sucks and licks my clit—the motion is so perfect that pleasure is sailing through my body what feels like seconds later.

It ended too soon. I want more and go to shove his boxers down, but he stops me. “No need to return the favor.” He pauses for a second, looking away as he adds, “I don’t want you to ever do that for me again.”

I take his face in my hands, so he’s looking at me when I tell him, “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. And I understand. I won’t do it.” I really don’t want to either when I contemplate it. “But truthfully, I had something else in mind actually.”

His jaw clenches as he closes his eyes. “We don’t have to rush it, Brooke.”

“Rush?” I laugh even though I feel like my heart (and maybe pride) is breaking. “How is it rushing? I wanted to years ago and didn’t. Now, there’s nothing stopping us or forcing us to wait, and you don’t want to.”

I see it in his face. He’s closed off. I climb out of bed and pull on my clothes. The rejection is bothering me, though maybe it’s just confusion more than anything. I see the desire in his face, I feel the way his body responds to mine. We can finally be together without constraints and by choice—but he doesn’t want me.

The tear that trails down my cheek is embarrassing as he clasps my hand, pulling me to the bed. But I yank away. “It’s fine. You’re not ready. You’re allowed to say no.”

“Brooke, it’s not that I don’t want to. I just—” He stops, exhaling as he says, “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“Don’t go,” he pleads.

But I’m humiliated. “It’s okay. I’ll see you in the morning.” Without waiting for his response, I slip out the door and go into my bedroom. Once I’m there, I bury my face in my hands. I’m being childish and irrational. His hesitation isn’t due to the scars on my body; I really don’t believe it is. But why do I feel like I’m ruined for life, and those bastards will always be in the room anytime I’m exposed?

43

MICAH

When I spot Luca climbing the bleachers, I ask, “I understand why I’m here, but why are you?”

“Basketball is my favorite sport.”

He’s being sarcastic, so I say, “And this makes how many games you’ve attended?”

He huffs. “One. But I figure we could support Cain and Brooke.”

I spot her down on the court, surrounded by others from the cheer team, a smile on her face as she speaks.

“And I wanted to discuss the fight at the Tomb with you.” He keeps his sight on Brooke, and I know what’s coming. “I think it’s a bad idea with everything that’s going on.”

Agreed. “That’s exactly why I need to fight.”

“No, it’s why you’ll be distracted and hot-headed, not a good combination.”

He’s right. We both know it. But that doesn’t mean I’ll take his advice. “I need it.” I need an outlet and punching an opponent in the ring is a great option.

Luca’s gaze shifts to Ivy where she’s approaching Brooke as he says, “You’re punishing yourself. And I get it. Once we’ve got our minds set, no one can talk us out of it. But make sure whatever demon you’re trying to conquer is worth the risk of costing you even more.”

The damage is done. Now I’m just treading water until I’m hauled under. And as soon as I see Cain walk up to Brooke and wrap her in a hug, I am certain that the fight at the Tomb is the best way to get out all the rage bottled up inside me. I keep hurting her even when I try not to.

When her stunned stare searches for seconds before locking with him, I realize I will just keep doing it. Fuck. It’s not like she wouldn’t find out about the matchup, but why did that motherfucker have to be the person to tell her about it?

Cain is still talking as she walks away, heading in my direction. Luca notes the same as he says, “She’s pissed.”

Brooke walks on the row of bleachers below us and stops in front of me, her hands on her hips as she asks, “Got any plans after the game, Micah?”

“Your friend already told you all about them, so no need for me to.” I’m being an ass.