Every morning when she wakes up, I’ve already counted all the ways I planned to make her happy that day.
And as much as I want to push, even tried to push, that us living together made sense; she’s resisted.
It’s not like she hasn’t been open and honest about why she’s hesitant, it’s simply that if Mercy has a problem, I want to solve it. The kid practically lives here and treats my office like he’s Hugh Fucking Hefner.
Mercy though…
So, this morning when she left me to go shower, change, and check on Pita, I racked my brain on what I could do to get her to fully commit. Telling her she could work from my office was out since she already was. To be fair, Mercy had a home and I had a makeshift apartment above my business but I considered showing her my other home. The one in the woods I actually live in. But that would be asking her to leave the city. She loves the city.
Lunch.
We’d start with lunch. That in mind, I drive over to her place where I intended to do the chauffeuring. The less time I spent in that Mustang the better. Mercy drove that car like she stole it and twice she’s almost run over pedestrians.
Rounding the corner on to her block, I pull into her driveway and notice her garage door open. Getting out, I check the garage first to find her sitting on the ground with her head against her car. Dropping to my knees, I pull her hands down and see she has a bloody nose and swollen eye.
“Talk to me,” I demand. “What the fuck happened?”
“One minute I was getting in my car, and the next I was jacked twice and told to stay out of his business.”
“Whose business?”
“No clue,” she winces. “I even said the same and got a bloody nose for it.”
“Can you stand?”
“Maybe you were right,” she whispers. “I have gotten by on luck.”
“Mercy –”
“I didn’t even hear them,” she sighs. “Motherfucker, I got too cocky.”
“You’re moving in with me,” I announce at the same time I lift her into my arms. “Now is not the time to test me, Mercy.”
Burrowing into my neck she says, “Kay,” and I looked around to see if I was crazy.
Because that was a lot easier than I expected. Setting her in the passenger seat of my truck, I run into her place to lock up and grab some of her shit. When I got back, she had the saddest look on her face as she stared out of the window.
“Any word from Pita?”
“No,” she says softly.
“I’ll call him,” I offer. “See what he has to say.”
“I appreciate that,” she says in a flat voice. Mercy considered Pita hers and his detachment was really hurting her. If I had to guess, even more than the blows to her face did.
After tucking her into my bed, giving her some ibuprofen and ice, I poured us each a drink settling in next to her.
“I was wondering,” she asks turning to face me. “How much does a blow job retail for?”
“Minimum two hundred dollars last time I checked.”
“I’m really in the wrong line of work,” she mumbles. “Okay for two hundred is swallowing mandatory? What about ball play?” This woman, she got to me and the expression on her face confirmed that she knew it. “Did you just growl at me?”
“The only cock your lips will be wrapped around is mine,” I did in fact growl, again.
“Are you going to pay me two hundred bucks?” she challenges.
“You testing me, Mercy?”
Lightning quick, she was up and straddling me. Biting her gorgeous lip, she winks and says, “Yep.”
“Before you blow my mind, I wanted to get your take on something.”
Reaching over, I open the drawer and grab the book handing it to her.
“Ah,” she lights up. “The infamous book of positions.”
“Interested?”
Grinding on me, she pretends to be reading… okay fine, maybe she was, but what she was doing to me was fucking amazing. “We’ll start with this one,” she muses.
“Which one?”
“It’s called, Head off the Bed,” she winks.
Doing as she says, I climb off and watch as she rotates and allows her head to hang over the side of the bed. Reaching out, I take one of her hands, using the other to guide myself into her mouth. Immediately the suction is incredible. And since she does nothing by half measures, I couldn’t let this go on for too long. But watching her take me like this was so hot, I couldn’t stop myself from telling her, “We’re going to spider, spork, and snow angel. I want to waterfall, David Copperfield, and hot horseman. Ah fuck, I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”
Releasing me with a pop, she flips over and asks, “No angry dragon?”
Tackling her to the bed, I promise, “No angry dragon.”
“How do you feel about Queening?”
Rolling to my back then hauling her up, I put her where she needs to be, which is on my face and order her, “Your majesty, please take the throne.”
With lust in her eyes, she does.
The only thing missing while Mercy straddled my face was a tiara to place in her hair.