Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 127712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Mercer leans forward and kisses my head. He whispers, “That’s a good girl,” in my ear. And then, “Stand up now, please.”
And I do it.
I did all of it.
And when he and I are face to face again, his smile… God, I don’t know. It’s like a reward. And I don’t feel ashamed about any of it. I don’t feel stupid, either.
I feel… well, the first word that comes to mind is loved. But I know he doesn’t love me. It’s just a game.
There is a car waiting at the airport in Boston. It’s not the airport, but one meant for private and corporate jets. The car is black and European. Totally Mercer.
A valet hands him a key fob as we approach and he takes it, then walks me around to the passenger side—which is, once again, on the left instead of the right. I get in. He closes my door. And I watch him walk around the front.
I just did this like two hours ago.
And yet I feel like a whole new person.
To fresh starts and new beginnings.
He gets in, smiles at me as he revs the running engine, and then we pull away. We’re not in the city, but it’s not countryside or anything. So he’s shifting a lot. But in between shifting, he puts his hand on my leg.
He puts it there like it belongs to him.
Like our relationship is intimate, and not professional.
Nova. When you allow your boss to feed you tiny scoops of ice cream while you sit between his legs, his cock growing right under your chin, your relationship is no longer professional.
Yeah. My internal monologue is eerily correct almost a hundred percent of the time.
“My mother, Nova.”
“What about her?” My voice is a little bit husky because I don’t actually recall what my last words were. No, that’s not right. My last word was… yes.
“I wasn’t lying. She’s a bit much. Well.” He chuckles. “She’s a lot much.”
“Like you, then?”
“Am I too much?”
It’s a real question, I can tell. So I give him my real answer. “No.” Because he’s not too much. He’s actually the exact right amount of much.
And then something hits me in the chest. Not physically. Emotionally.
I know it. I feel it. It’s going to happen.
I am going to fall in love with this man. And there is no way to stop it now. And when that happens, he’s going to crush me.
He’s going to break my heart into pieces.
He might not even intend to do this, but it’s inevitable.
Silas Mercer isn’t a man you tame. He’s a man you borrow.
He’s a man you must give back when he’s done with you.
“She’s going to quiz you.”
I turn my body towards him. Until now, I’ve been kind of stiff. Still processing. But if he’s going to ruin me, and if I’m going to let him, then I’m going to enjoy this man. “What will she want to know?”
“Oh, everything. She will ask about your past. Would you like to tell the truth, or lie?”
This makes me smile. “Well. What do you think?”
This makes him smile.
Already relying on his opinion, are you?
“It doesn’t matter to me, Nova. It won’t even matter to her. She’s curious. That’s all. She’s going to judge you no matter what. Get used to that idea right now. And she’s going to hate you regardless as well.”
“Then why am I here?”
We’re at a stop light, so he looks over at me. “Because of Locke.”
“You’re using me to distract her.”
“I am.”
“Because you love him?”
Mercer pauses. Like he’s unsure how to answer. It’s not a long pause. And the light changes to green in the middle of it, so then he’s shifting and driving. But his answer is truthful. “I love him in my own way.” He glances over at me. “Which probably doesn’t make sense to you. But he understands it.”
I wonder, though. If Locke does understand it. Because from what I can see, Silas Mercer is indecipherable.
“The next logical question is this… do you understand it?”
“You and Locke? No.”
“Not him and I, you and I.”
“Yeah.” I chuckle. “That’s a no as well.”
“Well.” Mercer smiles as he takes a corner. “My mother is perplexed. She wouldn’t mind so much if I would just… be with him. Make a decision. But that’s not what we have. It’s a game, Nova. A game we’ve been playing for so long, we might not know how to stop.”
“He doesn’t come off as a sub.”
Mercer actually guffaws. “He’s not. Trust me. Just ask Olsen. Who is also not a sub. The whole thing is quite intriguing. I bring Locke into the game, he brings Olsen. Then you. He’s always been that way. He’s always making things interesting.”
A moment of clarity ensues after this comment.
The three of them are each playing a game. And, they are also playing one big game together. In fact, there are other games going on as well. Mercer and Locke. Locke and Olsen. Mercer, Locke, Olsen. Olsen and Locke. Olsen, Mercer, and Locke. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.