Mercy (Salacious Players Club, #4)(25)

Holy shit.

My mind is scrambling for answers while she continues on her dramatic rambling and overall freaking out. It’s obvious I’m not who she expected either.

“I was supposed to meet a girl I found on the app,” I mutter.

“Beau, that was me!” she snaps, clearly irritated by how long this is taking my slow brain to comprehend.

“No. It couldn’t be.”

When I open my eyes again, her dress is back down covering her panties, and she’s pacing the room in a frenzy. “It was a mistake. I didn’t know! There was no way I could have known.”

“Maggie, calm down.”

She freezes and glares at me with wide eyes and a wild look of panic on her face. “Calm down?”

“Yes, calm down. So…we know each other. Big deal. We’re both adults. And we didn’t even have sex.”

The intensity of her expression does not waver for a drawn-out moment before she finally scoffs and shakes her head. “I keep forgetting you’re only twenty-two.”

“Hey,” I reply. I’m not exactly sure what that was supposed to imply, but it felt a lot like she used my age as an insult.

“Beau, we don’t just know each other. Your dad is my friend—my good friend. And colleague, and if he knew I had you here in his club—" She looks pained as she covers her face with her hands, dropping onto the bed.

I don’t talk for a while, not sure what to say, but definitely feeling a sense of disappointment. Not disappointed because my mystery woman is Maggie—not disappointed by that at all, actually—but more so because everything we had planned is basically nixed now. My dream woman, ready to boss me around and take control, is no more.

Well, technically, she’s sitting right in front of me, but she’s having a full-blown crisis at the moment, and I don’t see her getting over it anytime soon.

“Do you want me to leave?” I ask reluctantly, because I don’t really know what else to say at this point.

“Yes, please. But keep your mask on.”

I watch her carefully as I slip the black ribbon over the back of my head, and I hate that we’re ending it this way. It doesn’t feel right. One minute I had my fingers inside her, and now I’m being sent away.

“Beau…” she says, calling after me as I open the door. When I look back, she continues, “No one can know about this.”

With a nod, I reply, “I know.” And just like that, I disappear into the dim hallway. Music is still blaring from the main room along with the low chatter of voices, and I make my way toward the exit. I know we can’t continue what we were doing, but I don’t like walking away from her, not like this. Not after what we just did.

I take that uneasy feeling with me all the way home. Even as I crawl into bed, artfully dodging my mother’s prodding questions by sneaking in through the patio instead of the main entrance, I’m still thinking about Maggie.

Lying in bed, I replay the way it felt, not just physically. Although her body was incredible—soft and warm and so pliant, like putty in my hands. But there was something about surrendering myself to her commands. I didn’t even get off, but I was never thinking about my pleasure. I was too focused on hers. And that’s not something I’ve ever really experienced before.

Her sexy commands echo in my mind. Lift my dress. Kiss me. Make me come.

God, that was hot and not in a way I’m familiar with. It wasn’t hot in the jack off to the memory sort of way, but when I was touching her, I felt invigorated and alive, warm tingles covering every inch of my body. My brain was off and the only signal it was receiving was us—our chemistry and the intensity between us.

Oh well.

I can find another one like her. There was a giant list of names to scroll through. And maybe I will. Maybe they’ll go easy on me and let me learn on them while they learn on me. Surely, there has to be someone else.

As I start to drift off, I keep coming back to the same idea. I don’t want to find someone else. Now that the shock has worn off, I see Maggie in a different light. That low-cut neckline with that fucking phenomenal cleavage. Her hips filling out the dress and the way she felt pressed against my cock.

It was not the same woman who showed up to my dad’s party, looking like a virgin. Knowing Maggie has a sexy, dark side makes it that much hotter. I’ve never imagined what she might taste like before, but I sure as fuck am now. I want to know the sounds she makes while I tongue-fuck her. I wonder what she would make me do, how she would use me to get herself off. I imagine her tying me up, hurting me, praising me.

Now these are thoughts to jack off to.

But for some reason, I don’t. I could easily reach under the sheets and relieve the pressure that’s been building since I saw her across the room tonight, but I don’t want to. A quiet voice inside is keeping me from my favorite indulgence. And it’s a voice I want to obey.





The next morning, I’m in my car sitting outside Maggie’s house with the sole purpose of apologizing since she’s not responding to my messages on the Salacious app. My guess is that she deleted it. But I can’t just leave things the way we did last night.

As I walk up the drive toward the front door, I keep rehearsing my apology. Even though I know there is so much more I want to say. I’m not even sure why I think I need to apologize, but something along the lines of ‘I’m sorry that happened and I hope you’re okay’ sounds good enough.