Mercy (Salacious Players Club, #4)(62)

He doesn’t respond, the moment growing heavy as we stare into each other’s eyes. The what now question lingers between us. After what he’s admitted to me tonight, I’d be stupid to put my trust in him. Irresponsible to let my heart get attached to a serial cheater, knowing that he will only break it and tarnish all of the good feelings I have toward him if I give him the chance.

At what point does unconditional love become…conditional?

I don’t know what he’s thinking and I almost don’t want to. The future is lingering in the distance like an ominous storm cloud, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it. And with all of the red flags and signs telling me this move and separation from Beau is the smart thing to do, my heart still can’t accept that decision without feeling an immense amount of regret.

Everything about our relationship is doomed, but for some reason, I’m still hanging on.





Rule #26: Nobody will boost your confidence like your closest friends.





Maggie





“Something like this would look amazing on you.” Mia is holding up a red corset with black embroidery designs along the bodice.

I give her a shrug. “I like the color, but I’m not sure how a corset would fit me.

She throws it in the basket regardless. “There’s only one way to find out.”

When I decided I needed lingerie, for some reason, it was Mia who came to mind when looking for a shopping friend. Obviously, I’m not disclosing everything about my dating situation, but she knows that I’ve started seeing someone and that I’m fulfilling the Domme role she helped me discover with the kink quiz. And seeing as how she and Garrett had to hide their own relationship for a while due to them being stepsiblings, I know she understands the importance of discretion. Not that I’ve expressed that I have anything to hide.

I pick up a black nightie with fur around the top before putting it back. I want to find something that makes me feel fierce—not soft and sweet. The whole point of this is to help me harness all of that dominant energy that seems to take some internal coaching to bring out.

Of course, it’s also intended to drive Beau crazy, and that sweet little see-through dress is not it.

No, not Beau. Men in general. Beau and I are down to only a few more weeks, so I need to get that idea out of my head.

After his admission of guilt last night, I’ve finally come to terms with what we really are. A temporary fling. Something fun and experimental, that no one will ever find out about. I should be happy he told me about the cheating. It made this decision so much easier.

But something is still not settling right in my heart. Even though I know it’s the smart option, it’s not what I want.

Mia is throwing lingerie into her basket like she’s trying to clear the racks. When she hands me one that is literally more hanger than fabric, I glare at her skeptically.

“What is that even going to cover?”

“Babe, the idea is to not cover,” she replies with a dimpled grin.

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re twenty-three. I have stretch marks to hide, and let’s just say…my boobs aren’t where they used to be.” I skim through the racks as she lets out a frustrated sounding groan. Then, without notice, she latches onto my arm and drags me toward the back of the store, where the red curtain fitting rooms wait for us.

“Get in there,” she says in a cute but commanding tone.

“Excuse me?”

“Try these on so you can see just how hot and delusional you are,” she snaps with a sassy head tilt. Then she throws the basket in the dressing room and slides the curtain closed around me.

“I’m not delusional,” I reply through the curtain as I pick up the first corset from the pile. “I’m realistic. I can pretend I’m blind to those things, but society will never be.”

“Fuck society,” she barks. I smile at the sound. Mia is curvy and gorgeous. She has the confidence in her own skin I never had. While she was flaunting her perfect body to men on the internet for money, I was still covering up and hiding mine because—and I quote—boys would get the wrong idea.

I learned to be ashamed of my body before she was out of diapers. I never had the chance to appreciate it or know how to flaunt it proudly. I have never once seen myself as sexy, because it was drilled into my head at an early age that sexy bodies are sinful.

“Do you know why I started camming?” she asks, taking me by surprise.

Because of the money sounds like an offensive answer, so I don’t respond. Although I’m sure that was a big part of it.

“No, why?”

“Because I love my body. I saw the way girls on my gymnastic team would whisper about me. I heard so many fucking derogatory remarks and tips about dieting and working out. It didn't matter how I felt about my own body. People honestly thought I should be unhappy with myself. They thought they were helping.

“But men liked me. Men appreciated my body. And I don’t care if that makes me sound like a slut or an attention whore. I was, and am, proud of my curves, and I was tired of hearing how I should change them. So, stop talking about yourself like that. You are beautiful, and any man who gets to touch you is very fucking lucky. And if he doesn’t know it, drop him like a bad habit.”