Mercy (Salacious Players Club, #4)(78)

When I catch Charlie’s cousin gazing a little too long at Beau, I clutch him a little closer, mine echoing in my mind. If I could scream it right here, I would. Is it stupid to imagine that someday I might be able to? If Beau even wants me for that long. And if I get over the fear of telling his father about us.

When we reach the front, we separate. He takes his place across the aisle, wedged between Garrett and Hunter. As the officiant starts the wedding, going through the sappy quotes and all that, I silently start to wonder how the hell we got here. How is the man I’ve been sleeping with for the past two months Emerson’s bratty, self-centered, ill-tempered son?

As Emerson and Charlie say their vows, my eyes find Beau’s and I smile as I realize he’s already looking at me. Our gazes meet for a long, charged glance. Everyone’s looking at the bride and groom anyway.

So for one quiet moment, I let myself exist in his eyes. And I’m struck by how much it feels like us, even if we’re around everyone else. My house has become our private place, the only space I feel genuinely happy anymore, and to find that same feeling exists, when I can freely stare into his eyes, is like heaven.

When I feel another pair of eyes on me, I glance next to him to see Hunter watching me, subtle curiosity on his face, and I quickly glance away, my blood pressure starting to spike. God, did he pick up on any of that? It’s weird for me to be staring at Beau that way.

I quickly swallow down my paranoia and make a mental note to avoid talking to Hunter alone anytime soon.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the officiant announces as the small crowd cheers. “You may now kiss your bride.”

This time, I do look at Beau, because no matter how much he’s grown to accept this awkward situation, watching your dad kiss your ex still has to feel weird. His eyes widen as he stares back at me because his dad isn’t just kissing his ex…he’s fully making out with her in front of everyone. I let out a little laugh, trying to hide it behind my bouquet.

Beside me, Mia makes a loud woo-hoo yell, and the crowd’s cheers grow louder.





After the ceremony, we head to Emerson’s house, where he is hosting a small reception in the backyard. Beau is standing with Sophie near the edge of the party, while I’m stuck in conversation with Ronan Kade, the club’s wealthiest member, Garrett, Mia, and Fitz. Nearly every regular and major club employee is here tonight, which means the club is in the hands of our floor managers and most trustworthy staff. It’s an all hands-on deck sort of evening, which makes me nervous about smuggling the groom’s son in unnoticed.

My plan is to bring him in the back, since there are no security guards at the employee entrance. From there, we’ll go straight to the room. I personally blocked out room twenty-three tonight, a VIP room on the second floor that I think will be the most comfortable for Beau. It has a low platform bed with bedding nicer than what’s in my house. There’s something masculine about the room that I love. Dark gray bedding, a mix of sandalwood and sage oils in the diffuser, special lubricants specifically for first-timers, and the best aftercare station our club has to offer. It’s been unofficially donned the first-timers’ room, and from what I can tell, that’s what it’s been used for. Not first-timers in the sense of losing your virginity—as far as I know, that honor belongs only to Mia. But first-timers for anything, really, but mostly, first time trying anal.

And this is the only reason I’m doing this at the club and not at home. I have more confidence at the club. I feel more comfortable there, and tonight, I need all the comfort and confidence I can get. I’m not worried about hurting him. I trust him to communicate with me enough before that happens.

I am worried about losing him. This could very well be too much for him. This could be the wake-up call, the moment he realizes we’ve passed his kink-tolerance threshold, and pegging is just a little too far out of the realm of vanilla, where he’s spent all of his life.

Watching him from across the yard, I think back to the man I knew before the quiz and the app threw him into my life. I try to mentally put myself in those memories, when I thought he was nothing but a brat—and not the kinky kind. I vividly remember the day Emerson came crying to me because his son stopped taking his calls after he found out his dad owned a kink club. I recall how much I…despised Beau for that. But I didn’t even know him.

Beau said it himself—we judge what we don’t understand. And I didn’t understand Beau. Hell, he didn’t even understand himself, which would explain why he came to me so broken and self-deprecating. He hated himself because he didn’t understand his submissive side.

Look at how far he’s come. How is this even the same person? I wasn’t even aware a person’s mind could open as much as Beau’s has. Even now as he slings an arm around Charlie’s little sister, a smile as wide as the sun on his face—and twice as bright—I shove away the misguided memories of the man I thought I knew. And I let that tender feeling, which I know now was the slowly building roots of what would become love, fill every crevice of my body, swimming through my veins as tears fill my eyes.

I love him so much, and I hate that I can’t tell a soul.

But none of that matters because, soon, he’ll be with me in Phoenix, and no one here will matter anymore. We can stay there, not just for six months. If he’s really happy with me there, then we have a chance to make a real life. The forever kind.