Mercy (Salacious Players Club, #4)(92)

I barely remember that. I was so out of it. All I remember was waking up in an ambulance and her not being there.

As Maggie turns away, she wipes at her face, hiding the emotion she’s showing. She’s always so calm and collected that it’s strange to see her expressing such vulnerability. When she lets go of my hand, my stomach turns. I hate watching her leave, and I really don’t want to be here alone. When she reaches the door, I call her name. As she turns, I swallow the emotion building in my throat.

“I love you.”

She pauses halfway out the door, staring at me with tenderness in her eyes that are starting to fill with tears again. In a quick stride, she crosses the room and practically climbs onto my bed, pulling me in for a hungry kiss.

Her teeth pinch my bottom lip in a fierce bite that doesn’t hurt, but is really fucking reassuring. Then her tongue brushes against mine, and I almost forget I’m in a hospital bed and that today has easily been the longest day of my life.

“I love you too,” she mumbles against my lips.

“Aw, ain’t that sweet. Now, get out,” the nurse replies, and I grimace as Maggie smiles.

“I’m going,” she says, before climbing off my lap and wiping her tears away.

“You’re coming back later, right?”

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” she replies, and I believe it. When Maggie makes promises, I trust her. There’s just something really fucking comforting about that. I’ve never been able to rely on someone like that before. I never knew I needed to learn to trust so badly.

“Tell my dad I’ll see him later,” I say before she leaves. As she looks back with a tight smile, she nods.

“I will.”

When she’s gone, my eyes start to feel heavy, and I’m relieved that I can finally close my eyes and rest. My head still hurts like a bitch, but everything feels a little lighter now. No more secrets. No more lies. Without the heavy weight on my shoulders, I fall into a restful sleep.





Rule #37: People let you see what they want you to see.





Beau





My face is pressed against the warmth of Maggie’s bare chest, her tits like perfect pillows cradling my head. I’m not sure when we took our clothes off or where the fuck we are, but when I wake up, she’s lying beneath me, naked and ready. Suddenly, I’m hard and grinding against her, torn between the desire just to sleep in her arms or muster the energy to bury myself deep inside her, where it’s safe and warm.

I’d honestly be happy with either, but unfortunately, someone is currently drilling screws into my skull and pulling me from the serenity of my dream.

When I peel my eyes open, the blinding light of the room only makes the drilling worse. Which, as it turns out, isn’t actually drilling. It’s just the pain meds wearing off and the throbbing reminder that crowbars and skulls don’t mix.

When I let out a groan, shifting in my bed, a deep, familiar voice takes me by surprise.

“Beau?” my father asks. My lids crack open enough to notice my dad jumping up from the chair next to my bed, his facial features tense with concern. “Are you in pain? Nurse!” He calls as he rushes across the room to the door.

Considering that my father and I have a very awkward conversation on deck, I might actually consider letting the stabbing pain stay. It’s actually a nice distraction from the fact that my dad now knows that not only am I screwing one of his oldest friends, but I’m also doing it in his club, and oh yeah…she’s my Domme.

Can’t wait to bask in the glow of that disappointment.

I must start to drift off again because when I hear a woman’s voice and instantly recognize that it’s not Maggie, I open my eyes to find a nurse, not the mean one, plugging something into my IV. Whatever it is, I hope it’s strong.

What’s a guy gotta do to get a morphine drip around here?

Within a few minutes, the drilling is gone, and I can actually open my eyes without wanting to gouge out my eyeballs. My dad must have pulled the curtains closed because it’s peaceful and dim when I finally do make eye contact with him.

He looks tired as fuck. Dark circles under his eyes, messy hair, wrinkled clothes.

“What time is it?” I ask, my voice dry and raspy. He quickly grabs a pitcher of water off the table next to me and fills a small plastic cup with it.

“It’s just after two. You slept all day, which is good.”

“Where’s Maggie?” I ask as I lift the water to my lips. I watch his reaction as I say her name, and I only notice the most subtle hitch in his breath before he replies, “She’s on her way back. I sent her home to get some rest and food.”

“Good,” I reply as I finish the cup. Food sounds fucking amazing right now.

“Your mom was here too. She’ll be back in a couple hours.”

“Okay,” I reply dryly.

When I hand him back the empty cup, the room grows thick with tension. It’s like we’re not the same two people we were last night. Last night, he existed in blissful ignorance. Today, he has to face the truth that I’m not who he thought I was.

Welcome to the fucking club.

My back is aching, so I try to sit up, and once he notices me struggling, he jumps into action, trying to help. Grabbing the bed’s remote panel to adjust the angle, he presses the button that has me slowly sitting up.