Have Mercy: A Loveswept Contemporary Erotic Romance (25 page)

How much of his motivation was pure selfishness, a desire to make his own life easier?

Helping her had gotten her to this point. Maybe it was time to let go and let her fall so she could
pick herself up.

Katie was crying now, angry tears. She’d always cried when she was furious. When she was little, he’d wanted to beat up anyone who made her cry. Now he was the one doing it and her scrawny boyfriend was coming toward him.

“Fight me, bro. Fight me like a fucking man.”

He knew the blow was coming, and he could have dodged it, but he didn’t. Tom stood on his stoop, locked his hands behind his back and let Eric punch him in the jaw.

The impact snapped his head to the side, but it wasn’t hard enough to do more than bruise. “I’m not going to fight you,” Tom said when Eric kicked at him.

He dodged it. One punch was all he was willing to take for his sister. One punch, he figured, he deserved. “I am
not
going to fight you,” he said again.

Somewhere behind him, Katie started screaming. He wasn’t sure if she was trying to pull Eric off of him or trying to join in the fight, whether she wanted to beat him up or defend him from her boyfriend. Maybe all of the above.

Tom sidestepped again, just as Eric launched himself at him, but Eric tripped over one of the boxes and landed headfirst on the cracked concrete. For a long, sickening moment, Eric didn’t move, didn’t even moan.

Katie lunged for him. “You asshole!”

Somewhere, in the corner of his awareness, Tom knew that the neighbors had emerged from their houses to watch from their lawns. “Calm down, Katie. I’m going to call an ambulance for him.” His heart pounded against his sternum. He was pretty sure there was blood on his face, but he didn’t know where it was coming from.

“You mean the cops. You’re going to call the cops, aren’t you?” She grabbed for his phone as he reached for it, sending it flying across the front yard.

Tom caught her wrists in his hands. How had they gotten so thin? He loosened his grip, terrified that he would hurt her. “He’s hurt, he’s been drinking, I don’t know what else he’s used and now he’s unconscious. He needs medical attention. This isn’t about revenge or getting you in trouble or whatever you’re thinking. It’s about keeping you both safe.”

“As if you even fucking cared,” she said, but she sank to her knees beside Eric, pulling herself free of Tom’s hands.

Tom’s phone was lying somewhere in the dark grass of his lawn.
Finding it will take too long
.

“Hey, man—everything okay over there?” one of the neighbors called over from behind the invisible border between their lawns. Tom figured he wouldn’t want to step foot onto his side, either, into the mess they’d all just witnessed. He didn’t want to
live
in that mess anymore.

“Can one of y’all call an ambulance?” he answered.

He had a crew of neighbors watching his life turn into an episode of a talk show, the kind where people threw chairs and half their words were bleeped out for the network. It wasn’t until he felt the sick sink of shame that he realized just how little shame he’d felt over the past month with Emme.

For once, he’d been who he wanted to be, not who he was forced to be by circumstance. She had looked at him and seen a man she wanted, a musician she could respect, and he’d found someone he could trust for the first time in his whole damn life.

The flash of blue and red lights reflected off the stop sign at the end of the street as the police and paramedics arrived. He half expected Katie and Eric to take off running, but to his surprise, neither did. He walked down toward the street to direct the EMTs and to talk to the police, just as the first light of dawn began to show over the horizon.

Two days had passed since Emme had texted Tom. Two days with no reply. Forty-six hours, to be precise, so slightly less than two days. Not that she was counting.

Her mother, however, had begun calling daily.

“I see you’re famous again.” Inhale. Exhale. “Do you know where I heard about you?”

Emme sighed. “Garden Club?”

“No. Church.
Church
, Emily. Donald is humiliated. We’ve tried so hard to help you fix your reputation and then you throw it away like you don’t even care. Do you have any idea how much money Donald has spent on your house since you’ve been away?”

Emme could imagine her mother when she closed her eyes, mouth tight, pink nail polish shining against the filter of her cigarette, skirt neatly tucked under her legs as she tapped her foot against the floor.

“Mom. I never asked him to. I appreciated his offer, but I tried to turn it down.” She rubbed her forehead. She didn’t have a headache, exactly. More like enough pressure to push her skull open from the inside.

“Well,
I
asked him to. I told him we could help your career, that it would mean a lot to me if we could do something for you. And you take both hands and grab the nearest man and throw it all away.”

“Tom isn’t the nearest man,” Emme said. She looked over at Andy, who
was
the nearest man. He raised an eyebrow at her. She lowered her voice. “He’s important to me.”

“Which is why you immediately jumped into bed with that other guy?”

“Mom! I didn’t. Andy’s married.”

“It didn’t stop you before.”

“Actually, it did stop me before. I never did anything with Jared.”

That pulled her mother up short but only for a moment. “Pictures don’t lie, Emily,” she said.

That would have made her cry, once, that lack of faith in her. Or maybe she’d have just felt ashamed, drowning in it. It still hurt, but it hurt because she knew her mother would never really know her, not because she thought she’d done anything wrong.

“I love you, but I’m hanging up now,” she said. And did.

She wanted to call Tom, tell him what a gift he’d given her, but he’d left because his personal and business life was in shambles. The last thing he needed was for her to create another responsibility for him, to make demands of him. If he hadn’t called her back, it was for good reason. She ought to leave him alone.

But she missed him. She worried about him. She wanted to know how he was doing, wanted to ease some of his burden. And she missed touching him, watching his eyes go hungry when she teased and taunted until there was nothing left in his life but him and her and the sparking lust between them.

They’d reached the phase of the tour when the van began to smell like fast food and boy-socks. Her forehead had etched a permanent splotch on the rear passenger-side window where she leaned against the cool glass, tracing raindrops with her fingers. Because of the mountains and the rain and the unwieldy top-heaviness of the van, Dave drove slowly, carefully. Emme knew it made good sense, but she still felt trapped and mired and sunken, watching sullenly as the rain and the road passed outside her window.

He would respond when he had a chance. She would wait until then.

When the text alert on her phone sounded, she nearly sent it flying across the van, she fumbled so quickly to grab it.

Thinking about you, too. Where are you?
It was Tom, and suddenly her breath rushed into her body with such force she realized she’d been nearly holding it for two days—no, forty-six hours.

Outside Asheville
. She had to retype the city name three times, her thumbs clumsy. She felt like she’d lit up from the inside, just from seeing words from him on a screen.
What took you so long?

I lost my phone for a while. Dew isn’t good for a touch screen
.

Sounds bad
, Emme typed back.

Oh, it’s worse than it sounds
.

Emme wished she could hear his voice.
Can I call you?

It took him a while to answer.
I’d rather text, if that’s okay
.

Where are you?

In bed. I didn’t sleep last night
.

She wanted to ask him how he was doing, wanted to ask about his sister, but she held herself back and followed his lead. She could show him that she trusted him to do what he needed, take what he needed from her.

Are you in the hotel?

No, in the van
.

Emme nearly saw his dimples in his response.
Oh, that’s too bad. I was hoping to get you alone
.

She couldn’t help but grin at that.
Oh, really?

Yeah. But this might be fun, too …

Emme shook her head. Sounded like Tom was doing okay.
Tease
.

Oh, right, normally that’s your role. Are the guys in the van with you? Who’s riding in the back?

Emme looked around. Andy was sitting on the other side of the backseat, his earbuds plugged in. Guillermo and Dave were up front as always. The interior of the van was quiet except for the sound of the windshield wipers and the rain against the roof and the buzzing of her phone when Tom’s texts came through.

Andy’s in the back with me. Dave and Mo are up front
.

Hm. If I were back there with you …

She waited for him to continue but he didn’t.
What would you do?

I’d scoot a little bit closer to you. Get close enough that I could feel the warmth of your body beside mine, smell your perfume. You always smell sexy. I get a hard-on from the smell of your shampoo
.

Heat flared to life through Emme’s body at that. She could feel him, close enough for his heat and scent to wash over her but not actually touching her. Not close enough to make Dave or Guillermo protest from up front.

You always smell like soap. Makes me want to get you dirty
. She typed it quickly like Andy might grow X-ray vision and read it over her shoulder. It was something she’d always thought about Tom but would never have said. It would sound too stupid spoken aloud.

I love it when you get me dirty
. There was a pause and Emme pictured his naughty, dimpled grin as he typed that.
I’d wait until no one was looking, and I’d trace letters on the back of your neck, spelling out everything we could do when we got to the hotel
.

Emme felt goose bumps rise all along her skin at that.
What sorts of suggestions would you make?

When no one was looking, I’d whisper that I want to crawl to you, worship you, make you come with my mouth until you push me away
.

God, who was in charge here? She couldn’t remember. Her cheeks were burning, her body was buzzing. Every bump in the road made her aware of the wetness between her legs, how restless and empty she felt. How much she wanted him here with her. Just knowing he was on the other end of this conversation brought color back to the world. Agonizing color, to be sure, since she was so aroused with no hope for relief any time soon, but brightness that she’d missed in the past few days. Her hands shook as she typed back.
What if I ordered you to do it in the van? Kneel on the floor in front of me, push up my skirt, and lick me until I came all over you? Would you do it?

She knew the answer. She had a feeling she knew what his answer would always be.

I’d fucking love it
. A pause, then he typed:
I was going to wait for you, wait until you got to the hotel. How much longer?

At least another hour
. Emme thought for all of two seconds before she continued.
Don’t wait. I want you to come. I want you to tell me what you’re doing. Are you dressed?

I was. Now I’m in my boxer briefs, lying on my bed
.

She could picture it, his lean, muscled body stretched out atop the covers. She wanted to run her hand over his midsection, follow the line of hair that disappeared into his waistband.
Touch yourself. Start at your chest and run your hand down over your belly. Do it slowly
.

Emme nearly shivered as she pictured his hands on his own body as she watched.

Feels good
. His messages were taking longer to type and getting shorter. She could imagine him taut and breathless from his own touch.

Slide your hand over your cock but don’t touch under your boxers. Pretend it’s me. Imagine my mouth is open and wet and that I’m sliding it over your erection through your underwear
.

Fuck, Emme. That feels so good
.

She very nearly moaned aloud before she remembered that she was in the van with Andy only a few feet away. She shifted in her seat, trying to find some way to ease the ache between her thighs, and turned back to her phone.
I wish I could hear your voice
. She typed the confession more furtively than she’d typed the far more explicit directions she’d given him.

God, baby. When you sing, I feel it in my whole body
.

Pull your boxers down. Think of me doing it while I kneel over you with my mouth so close to your cock
.

Emme could almost taste him. She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to catch her breath, slow down her frantic heartbeat.

“You okay?”

The sound of Andy’s voice startled her so badly she nearly shrieked. Her phone flew out of her hand and landed on the van floor. “Shit!” She scrambled for it before he could pick it up and see what was on the screen. “Yeah, sorry. Fine. Just lost in thought.”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye but shrugged and turned away. She curled herself into a ball, knees against the armrest, phone cradled protectively in the shelter of her body.

I’d just breathe first. You’d be able to feel the heat of my mouth, but I wouldn’t touch you—just like you said you’d do, sitting next to me in the van
.

I want to rest my fingers in your hair. It’s so pretty all messy
.

Emme wasn’t sure why that made her blush when all the other messages they’d sent each other didn’t, but her face heated anyway.
I’d like that
. She imagined his calluses catching on the strands, the tenderness in his touch. How cherished he made her feel, and how much she wanted to spoil him.
I’d lean forward and let my hair fall over you. Then I’d lick from the very bottom to the tip of your cock until you were good and wet
.