Mercy's Angels Box Set (40 page)

“You’ve read that?” she asked.

“Fuck no! I dated a girl who told me about it.”

“You don’t date,” she said matter-of-factly. “And if I wandered over to that bookshelf, would I find a copy of Fifty Shades on it?”

“Zip it, Betty Boop, I am seconds away from passing out from exhaustion,” I growled, giving her a gentle tap on the ass. I was worried I might have crossed some sort of line touching her like that, but she grinned, and once again zipped her lips and went to use that ridiculous invisible key. I grabbed her wrist and stopped her. “No point in locking it, your key doesn’t seem to work.” Rebecca settled her head back down on the pillow.

“So, my sister is into BDSM,” Rebecca murmured.

“No idea, just because William’s father is into it, doesn’t mean he or Emily are into it as well.  Anyway, Jonas owns a whole bunch of fetish clubs in Vegas that, on the outside come across as your regular skanky BDSM fuck lounges, but allegedly, these clubs are a front for men and women with similar predilections as Jonas: sick fuckers who get off on their masochistic needs with underage girls and boys.  Rebecca seemed to take a moment to digest this information.

“Maybe that’s where Emily has been since she left Claymont?” she whispered.

“Maybe she met William in an ice cream parlor and knows nothing about all this shit, but I get the feeling that she is twisted up in some fucked up shit.” I rubbed a hand down my tired face and grimaced when I realized how long it had been since I shaved. I was a hairy mother right now. “I dunno, babe, this is all kinda out of my league. I’m no detective and I’m certainly no expert on BDSM,” I gave her a cheeky grin, unable to help myself, “but I’d be happy to explore certain aspects with you. Just say the word, baby. I’m all about self-discovery and exploration.” Rebecca thumped me in the chest.

“How can you turn a serious conversation into something so sexy and dirty at the same time?”

“It’s a gift.” I winked. “Anyway, that’s about as far as Braiden got. Your sister is married to the son of a sadistic S.O.B. and, Rebecca? There isn’t a chance in hell I am sitting down and doing the whole meet the family dinner thing with them.” Rebecca snorted and tried to hide a yawn. I pushed my arm under her head and pulled her in close.  “Get some sleep, baby. Braiden and Dillon are doing their bad-ass shit out there on the streets; they’re looking for your sister. All we can do is sit tight for now and keep you safe.” Rebecca nuzzled her head into the sensitive crook of my neck, and her warm lips moved against my skin. My dick twitched with curiosity as Rebecca held herself there pressed up against me.

“Charlie, would you do something for me?” she whispered in a tone so soft I barely heard her.

“Anything,” I murmured back.

“Will you touch me?” Her request had me freeze like a damn deer caught in the headlights. “I just want to know that I still can...you know...be touched...like that.”

Every fiber of my being demanded I roll her over and touch her, but I was worried she might not be ready. “Rebecca, someone sexually assaulted you only a couple of weeks ago. You don’t have to be ready to do this yet.”

“I know,” she sighed, “but I feel safe with you. In fact, I feel constantly damn horny when I’m with you, and I want you to touch me. I want to know that I can still have that. I like sex, a lot! Surely you remember that.”

I grunted my acknowledgement. Not a day passed by where I didn’t recall just how much Rebecca had blown my mind that night.

“It’s been a long time for me and that’s one of the reasons why I went on that stupid date with Luke. And then I was attacked, and now I’m scared shitless that I will never have another orgasm again.”

“How long?” I asked, blatantly ignoring the mention of Luke Hollywell. My mood would be seriously compromised if I thought about Rebecca and him together.

“Since you,” she breathed.

Well, that surprised the shit out of me. Rebecca was stunning, she was feisty, and yeah, she liked sex. To think she hadn’t been with anyone since me was strangely satisfying, which only reinforced the idea that I had turned into a complete fucking caveman. I hesitated before rolling to my side and looking down at Rebecca. Damn she was beautiful—her eyes were so many different shades of blue without a hint of another color, her skin was flawless, and her full lips were soft and pink. I ran a hand over her hair that was so blonde it bordered on white. Her body was healthy, not stick thin but not heavy; she had womanly curves and a pair of exquisite breasts that filled my hands easily. From the rapid rise and fall of her chest, I don’t know who was more nervous: me or her. I simply let my fingers whisper across her skin, over her cheeks, down her neck, but I faltered at the buttons of her pajama top. Charlie Cole never had trouble undressing a woman, but Charlie Cole was treading in unfamiliar waters right now. Rebecca obviously sensed my reluctance, and slipped the buttons open for me. Her eyes were determined; there was no sign of apprehension. Gently and slowly, I pushed open her top to expose her stunning breasts. I stared, like flat out stared, my mouth open and tongue ready to fall out.

“Not helping.” Rebecca chuckled nervously.

My lip quirked in a smile as my fingers resumed their leisurely trail across her skin, purposefully ignoring those perfect breasts. I wanted her out of her mind, begging for my touch and she would not get it until the word ‘please’ escaped that sassy mouth of hers. I wanted her so desperate for my touch that it eclipsed all fear and wiped away the bad memories. My finger circled her little belly button and I found myself wanting to lean over and dip my tongue in it, but this moment was for Rebecca, not me. My fingers swept up close to the underside of her breasts, across her shoulders, over the elegant arch of her collarbone and along the invisible line that ran down the center of her body.

“Charlie,” she panted.

“Yeah, Betty Boop?” My voice almost trembled.

“This isn’t the touch I had in mind.” Her eyes fluttered shut as I brushed closer to her breasts.

“No?” I asked, unable to stop my grin. She shook her head as my fingers moved away from the delectable rise of her breast.

“Charlie!” she groaned.

“I need you to tell me what you want, baby, I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings, and, Rebecca?” She opened her eyes and looked up at me. “You say stop, and I stop.” 

Her gaze softened and she gave me a shy nod. “Touch my breasts, please.”

My body sagged in relief and I wasted no time guiding my fingers up her chest and over the pale rise of one breast. My touch was a light caress as I gently teased her nipple. I moved to the neglected breast wishing I had both of my hands free to use on her, but one arm was currently holding my weight so I could get an unobstructed view of the beauty beside me. Soon her body was flush with obvious desire and Rebecca began to shift. I knew she was seeking relief from the lower part of her body. Hot on the tails of that thought, she grabbed my wrist and pushed my hand lower. I played with edge of her pajama bottoms refusing to go any further without verbal permission.

“Touch me, Charlie,” she ground out in frustration.

“I am, baby.” She shook her head. I was fairly sure I knew what she wanted, but I needed to hear it, it needed to be clear. I was nervous enough without presuming to know what was going through her head at the moment.

“If you don’t touch my central loving station this instant, I’m going to kick your ass!” she ordered.

I laughed. “Your what?” I murmured. I knew several guys who had a name for their dick, but I have never once met a woman who had a name for her pussy, until now apparently.

“My vagina, my snatch, my mound, I don’t care what you call it, but I call it my central loving station because...well...it’s a central loving station.” I grinned, damn she was adorable. “I used the words, Charlie.” That she had.

“I prefer pussy, but central loving station works for me, too.” I pushed my hand under the waist band of her pajama bottoms. My fingers continued their dance over the thin barrier of her panties. I explored her from behind the barrier until she was again squirming.

“More, please, Charlie.”

Damn, she said please. I leaned over and kissed her. I kissed her hard, pretty much forcing my tongue into her mouth before finally peeling aside her panties to find her very wet central loving station. I noticed the change immediately. She stopped moving, her body became rigid. I didn’t move my hand away, but I stopped moving my fingers and allowed my kiss to become less dominant, softer, safer.

“Rebecca?”

“Don’t stop,” she quietly begged.

My hand remained still where it was as my lips travelled down her chest until I could take one soft nipple into my mouth. I sucked and nipped at her until she was relaxed again, then I moved my fingers into her folds. I played and teased at the moist hot flesh between her legs for the longest time before I slowly slipped a finger inside her.

“Talk to me, Charlie, I need to hear your voice,” she breathed.

“Open your eyes,” I gently commanded. Her blue eyes shot open and watched me cautiously. “You feel so good, baby, just like I remembered.” Her hips moved tentatively, as if almost testing the waters. “Fuck, I have thought about that night so many times. We fit together just right, Betty Boop, my cock inside you like it was made for you.” I saw the heat flare in her eyes and a low moan escaped her lips. “I love your breasts.” I leaned in and took a nipple into my mouth again just to prove how much. As I pushed a finger slowly in and out of her body, my thumb found her clit and I gently rubbed the little nub. “I love everything about you, you feel perfect. Inside...” I added another finger and pushed inside her with a little more force to emphasize my point. “And out.” I sucked a nipple into my mouth, and maybe it was a little too forceful, but the loud groan accompanied with her clenching around my fingers told me she liked it.  I didn’t stop and I watched her face carefully for any signs of fear until her eyes began to flutter shut—just how I remembered—surrendering to her impending orgasm. When her pussy finally clenched around my fingers and her back arched with unrestrained desire, I swear I have never seen anything more beautiful.  I gentled my touch as her dazed eyes found mine. A tear slipped loose and I withdrew my hand in a panic. Had I pushed her too hard, too fast?

“Oh shit, Rebecca,” I whispered.

Her hands found my face and pulled me down for a kiss that seemed her way of claiming me. “Thank you,” she finally said.

“Are you okay?” I asked, not yet sure if her tears were a good thing or a bad thing.

“I haven’t been this good in a long time,” she confessed.

Fuck, it had been almost too much for me—too much apprehension, too much emotion. I was exhausted and horny. I collapsed on my back, pulling Rebecca to my chest. After a short, silent moment, her fingers began to glide towards the edge of my boxers that were hanging loosely over my hips. I stopped her progress and brought her fingers to my mouth, pressing a kiss to the tips. 

“This was about you, Betty Boop,” I explained.

“You’re not...uncomfortable?”

I laughed loudly. Hell yeah I was uncomfortable, but in a good way. “Perhaps this is my punishment for failing to relentlessly pursue you like I should have a year ago.” Rebecca’s arms clinched tight around me.

“Let’s not talk about the past anymore,” she murmured, her words accompanied with a yawn.

“Sounds good to me, baby. Get some sleep before I change my mind about this being all about you.” Rebecca’s shoulders shook on a silent chuckle before we both fell into a comfortable silence, followed by some much needed sleep.

Last night I slept blissfully nightmare free. I had no idea why. Perhaps I was just too tired to dream, perhaps the amazing orgasm Charlie had gifted me with had wiped me out, or perhaps it was because I had slept in the protective and unyielding embrace of my strong and fearless warrior. Or maybe I had finally found my damn back bone. I don’t know, I don’t care, all I knew was I felt refreshed and coherent for the first time in weeks. And of course there was that amazing orgasm. Charlie touched me and although once or twice I came close to losing my nerve, I hadn’t. His touch had been as mind blowing as I remembered. Just the thought of it made me shudder. I sighed like a love sick fool as I called Ella from the front porch of Charlie’s chalet. I knew it wasn’t a chalet or a lodge—it was a cabin—but it was a big damn cozy cabin!

“Hey, Betty Boop,” Ella answered in a sing song voice.

“Hello to you, too, short stuff.” I chuckled.

“So, how is the redneck inn?”

“Not so redneck,” I acknowledged, taking in the beauty of the mountains before me.

“Uh-huh, told ya you’d like it.”

“You’ve seen it?” I wondered out loud.

“Nope, but Jax told me all about it. Sounds pretty damn wicked. Does it really have a Jacuzzi? I want a Jacuzzi, but not before I get my fucking kitten,” Ella growled, her curiosity morphing into a small temper tantrum. I laughed.

“Yeah, it has a Jacuzzi. I’m sure Jax would get you one. And why the hell are you waiting for him to get you the damn kitten? Just go out and buy one.”

“But what if he is really allergic to them?” she asked, her tone gentling to worry.

“Ask Mercy.”

“You really are the smartest woman I know,” Ella joked.

“Well you really don’t know all that many people, so it’s not saying much.” I chuckled.

“So, you sound remarkably calm for someone whose life has been flipped ass over tit.” If I wasn’t so used to tiny, angelic Ella’s crude and upfront vocabulary, I would have been shocked. Ella spent four years on the run from her stepfather, four long years living in shelters, and occasionally on the street. She has lived a hard life, with hard people and was certainly no prude. But she has come out on the other side with her heart intact, and a back bone of steel. Over the past year, her confidence has only grown. Jax, Charlie, and I created a monster. “You sound like a woman who’s indulged in some horizontal refreshments, perhaps,” the monster went on.

“Ella, you know I don’t drink while lying down. I drink till I fall down.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” I knew what she was talking about, but I wasn’t going to give in that easily.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Ella. You’ve been hanging around Lola too long. You both talk in riddles.”

“You did the fuzzy bump!” Ella exclaimed.

I could not contain the laughter that spilled from my lips. “I did the what?”

“Fuzzy bump, you know, bumped uglies.”

That only made me laugh harder. “Bumped nasties?” I offered.

“Slap and tickle?” Ella suggested, and I’m sure I was blushing, remembering the tickle fondly.

“A jiffy stiffy?” I carried on, and Ella snorted loudly through the phone. We played this game often and it usually ended with us laughing so hard that one of us would end up making a dash for the bathroom.

“You had yourself a shaboink, I can tell from the sound of your voice,” Ella said, and I could just imagine the smirk on her face. Shaboink?

“There is nothing different about my voice,” I said with a nervous chuckle.

“Oh, hell yeah there is. You sound all husky and sated.” What the hell did that mean? “Boss, you sound very relaxed and very well fucked,” Ella explained.

“Well, you are obviously off your game because I wasn’t shaboinked and I’m not your boss anymore.” Ella snorted again. “But I might have had an orgasm,” I quickly added.

“Big Red?” Ella exclaimed. Damn giant red vibrator. I had once told Ella I refused to use an inanimate object to find release; however, curiosity had gotten the better of me and I had relented once or twice, or maybe a few times. Screw it, I’ve used it so many times I’ve lost count.

“No, not Big Red. Big Charlie helped, but there was no sex involved. I didn’t think I could even handle being touched, but clearly I can.” I grinned. Damn straight I could. Ella sighed.

“Of course you can. No asshole, brute of a man is ever going to keep you down. You’re Rebecca Fucking Donovan, you kick ass,” she said it so matter-of-factly that I couldn’t help but smile. Charlie stepped out the front door, two beers in his hands.

“Hey, I gotta go, I’ll call you tomorrow.” I knew I was ditching her like yesterday’s news, but Charlie, standing before me in jeans that hung low on his hips and a simple grey hoodie that clung to his chest, had me ready for orgasm number two.

“He’s there isn’t he?” Ella asked with a droll voice. “Put him on.” I handed Charlie the phone and he passed me a beer.

“Hey, pocket rocket, what’s going on?” His boyish grin made me want to climb up his body and kiss him senseless. As if feeling my heated gaze, he quirked an eyebrow in my direction before pulling me to my feet and taking my place in the chair. Before I had a chance to be outraged, he dragged me down to his lap. Oh yeah, this is where I wanted to be. “Ella, she’s fine, I promise. Anyone who wants to hurt her is gonna have to move mountains first, then me. So as you can clearly see, she couldn’t be any safer.” I felt Charlie’s chest rise in a silent chuckle. “Yes, ma’am, and tell Jax I’m sorry about the office, but he did burn down my tree house when we were fourteen. Perhaps it’s just karma setting things right.” Charlie sat back after disconnecting the phone.

“Why did Jax burn your tree house down?” I asked, amused.

“Because he caught me kissing Lisa Bell.”

“Who is Lisa Bell?” I found myself asking.

“The girl Jax spent four weeks in the ninth grade trying to kiss. He didn’t miss out on much.” Charlie grinned taking a long pull on his beer. “So, Ella tells me I have to give you no less than two orgasms a day.” Charlie wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m up for the challenge.”

“Jax has turned that woman into an animal,” I growled.

“I think she was always one, she just needed to be let out of her cage.” Charlie smiled fondly and I knew he cared for Ella. I wasn’t jealous because I knew the way he cared for her was the way a big brother cared for a little sister. I was happy Charlie had her, especially since he didn’t have any siblings of his own. “You ever fired a gun before, Betty Boop?” I spun around to face Charlie, needing to know if he was serious. The grim look on his face told me he was.

“Hell no!” I growled. Charlie leaned his head back against the wall of the cabin behind him. After a moment of contemplative silence, he picked me up off his lap and disappeared inside. I stood staring at the door, mouth open, mind spinning. What the hell just happened? A moment later Charlie reappeared, holding a gun. I took a nervous step away. Guns freaked me the hell out. As he held it in his hand, I noted how innocuous and plastic looking it seemed. Perhaps this was some sort of sick and twisted joke. Maybe he would press the trigger and a small flame would pop out the muzzle. Then he would grin and say, ‘gotcha’.

“This is a Glock Nineteen, 9mm semi-automatic pistol,” he opened the chamber at the top, “not loaded.” He wasn’t joking.

“Where the hell did you get it?” I demanded.

“Jax.” Say no more. Jax was a giant was a weapons freak. “I know you’re not keen on the idea, but desperate times call for desperate measures. If handled correctly and if respectfully cared for, a gun could save your life.” Charlie gave me a cocky look. “Ella knows how to use one, in fact, she’s a damn good shot.” He was goading me, and unfortunately it was working. I could never back down from a challenge. “Here, hold it, get a feel for it.” He raised his hand, the gun carefully held with the muzzle pointing away from me, even though it was not loaded. It was lighter than I expected and felt a little chunky in my hand.

“It’s a little bulky in the handle. You’d be more comfortable with a smaller gun, but this is a temporary situation so it will have to do.” I ran my fingers over the weapon, marveling at how seemingly innocent this killing device actually was. “You want to fire it?” Charlie asked. I continued to simply stare at it. I couldn’t believe this is what my life had been reduced to.

“I’m a fucking florist, Charlie, not a soldier,” I whispered. His hand circled the back of my neck and he pulled me forward into his body.

“Rebecca, I’m not Jax or Dillon, or Braiden for that matter. I’m not military trained in any way. I’m just plain ol’ Charlie who knows how to secure a good deal on lumber. I put up a good fight though and I know how to use one of these.” He took the gun from my hand. “You are a hard-ass, tough as nails, sexy florist who needs to know how to protect herself, and I want to give you that, I can give you that.”

I sighed. His words were the magic key that opened my inner Sarah Connor. I was ready to go all Terminator on someone’s ass. I pushed my shoulders back, rolled my neck and gave Charlie a confident nod.

“Alright, plain ol’ Charlie, show me how to empty some lead from that thing.” Charlie’s grin was contagious; his subtle dimples came out to play, making him look younger, more carefree. This was the Charlie Cole most people knew and saw. I liked that I was getting more insight into the real man, it made me feel closer to him, significant and perhaps a little territorial where Charlie was concerned. I would always hate the fact that so many women had shared something intimate with Charlie, but at the end of the day it was just sex—straight up sex without emotion. I, on the other hand, was getting something more meaningful from him, his heart. I wasn’t lying when I told him I have a jealous streak. The few boyfriends I’ve had over the years found my green eyed tendencies more of an irritation than a cute display of affection. The more time I spent with Charlie, the more territorial I was feeling about him. If he decided once this was all over, that his feelings were nothing more than protective inclinations towards a mere friend, I would be screwed. It would surely shatter my heart. As much as I tried to protect myself from attachments, from caring too much, Charlie had become part of the special and selective group of people that I could not be without.    

We set ourselves up far from the house. Charlie picked out a tree for target practice, which I felt bad about maiming. Geez, if I was already feeling sorry for shooting a tree, how the hell was I supposed to shoot a human being? Then my thoughts drifted to the asshole that attacked me, and if I were back in that moment, with this gun in my reach, I know I wouldn’t have hesitated to use it. Charlie slipped a cartridge in, bringing me out of my morbid thoughts.

“Fifteen round mag,” he explained. “The gun has three safety mechanisms, first being on the trigger.” He pointed it out. “The other two internal safeties are released when you fire the weapon.” Charlie put the loaded gun in my hand. Then he turned me to face the poor innocent tree who was about to be on the receiving end of a whole lot of whoop ass. The warmth of Charlie’s body pressed against my back made this lesson in weaponry a whole lot more appealing. I subtly rubbed against him, and Charlie gave me a firm smack on the behind. My crazy body loved it, while my mind screamed at me to hit him back.  “Behave,” he growled, his lips close to my ear. He took my hands, and raised them and the gun in front of me. “Move this leg back a little,” he corrected my stance. “This is your trigger finger and it sits right up here above the trigger until you are ready to pull it.  This hand goes underneath to help hold it steady.”  I was knew I was tense so tried to relax into the stance. After a few short moments, I began to feel something close to confident, maybe even a touch bad ass. I had never considered myself a gun wielding sex goddess! I giggled like a moron. “Concentrate, Betty Boop. I don’t want you shooting yourself, or me for that matter.” The gentle reminder of what we were doing here helped ground me. “You’ve got your sights outlined in white. See?” I closed one eye and watched carefully through the guiding white box to the white dot at the end of the muzzle. “Now you’re just going to pull the trigger nice and slow.”

Charlie took a small step away from me and I was suddenly nervous without his warm presence at my back. I tried to concentrate on looking down the sight, narrowing my aim and locking the innocent tree into my view. I hesitated on the trigger until I felt Charlie’s warmth at my back again. The confidence I gained at having him there helped me pull the trigger. The gun jarred in my hands, not uncontrollably, but I was unprepared for it. Charlie reached around to steady my hands. “Shit, I should have warned you about the recoil.” I took a moment to catalogue what just happened. I was okay, I was steady, and I wasn’t freaking out.

“It’s okay, let me try again.” Charlie lowered his arms and took a small step away. I closed one eye and looked down the sight. When I pulled the trigger this time, I was prepared for the recoil.

“Good girl,” Charlie whispered from behind me. I pulled the trigger again, and again. Six times in all before I began to lower my arms. Charlie quickly grabbed my wrists. “Finger off the trigger, Betty Boop.” I raised my finger and lowered the gun. I didn’t know whether to be embarrassed by the rush I got from firing the weapon, or just go with it and dance around the forest like a crazy nymph. I was more than prepared to embrace my inner Resident Evil fem-fatale, Alice. I imagined myself in a slinky red dress, knee high boots and complimenting thigh holsters. Hell yeah, I was down with this. I smiled at my overactive imagination.