Chapter 10 #2
Demi lounges on the far end of the sectional, legs tucked under her, gold sequins catching every flicker of the lamps. The red recording light on her phone stays steady, aimed straight at me like a weapon.
Blue sits on the floor in front of the coffee table, knees drawn up, leather skirt still bunched high enough to show the pink scab on her inner thigh.
Her sheer top hangs loose on one shoulder, exposing the curve of her collarbone where my teeth left their mark days ago.
She looks up at me slowly, lips parting on a quiet exhale, eyes glittering with something between triumph and hunger.
"Dr. Mercer," she says, voice soft, almost sweet. "Did you want to join us?"
I stop in the center of the rug. My chest rises and falls too fast. "What the fuck are you doing?"
Demi adjusts her grip on the phone, zooming in. "Keep talking. This is cinematic."
Cloud moves to Blue's side, hand dropping protectively to her shoulder. "You need to leave if you can't play nice. We have safe words."
"What are you talking about?" I snarl and scowl at Cloud, then look back at Blue.
Her gaze stays locked on mine. She uncurls slowly, rising to her feet, her skirt riding higher with the motion. She steps toward me until the heat of her body brushes mine.
Vanilla and club smoke cling to her skin, mixing with the floral scent of her perfume. She murmurs, "You watched everything, didn't you? The club? The guys? My tongue on Cloud's hand. You saw it all, and you want to play, right?"
My hands flex at my sides. I want to grab her, haul her against me, bury my face in her neck until the scent of other people disappears.
Instead, I force the words out through clenched teeth.
"You posted it for me. Every lick, every touch, every fucking smile.
You wanted me to see it. But no, I'm not here to play and indulge whatever fantasy you've convinced yourself is going on here. "
She tilts her head. "You're hard right now, aren't you? Thinking about my tongue on her skin. Thinking about hands that aren't yours."
Heat surges through me again, and my cock throbs so hard, the seam of my slacks digs in. I shift my weight, trying to ease the pressure, but it only makes it worse.
Demi whistles low behind the phone. "Damn. He's not denying it."
My head snaps toward her. "Can you keep out of our business, please?"
She smirks and keeps the camera pointed at me.
"Turn that damn thing off," I order.
"Pretty sure Blue's going to want to get off on this later," she chirps.
"Now," I demand.
"That's hot. Blue, tell him Demi's right," Cloud instructs, her fingers tightening on Blue's shoulder.
Blue ignores her. She reaches out, fingertips grazing the front of my shirt, tracing downward until they brush the buckle of my belt. "You stormed in here because you couldn't stand seeing me with others, but you walked away from me, Red."
I catch her wrist, my thumb pressing over her pulse that's racing. "This is about you hurting yourself again and then turning it into a show for me. Those scabs on your thighs aren't a joke or to be used as a weapon."
"He has a point," Demi mutters.
"You think?" I seethe at her.
She winces.
I turn back to Blue.
Her eyes flicker. For the first time since I walked in, something real cracks through the performance, but then it's gone in a blink. She leans closer, breasts brushing my chest. "Maybe I needed someone who wouldn't run."
Cloud steps next to us. "Red, you can join in, or you have to go."
Demi circles us, ordering, "Let them finish. This is better than anything on my feed tonight."
"You better not be posting this!" I warn.
Blue presses against me again. Her free hand slides to my hip, her fingers dig in, and her eyes blaze wild. "Stay, Red. Watch Cloud and me. Or join in. You know you want to see and feel it."
The invitation lands heavy. My erection strains harder, my hips rock forward on instinct before I lock them down.
Cloud moves her arm around the back of Blue's waist, tilts her head, and offers, "You can decide what you want us to do."
Blue waits for my reaction, for me to crack.
The front door explodes inward. Mikhail barrels through, suit jacket flapping open. His eyes sweep the room in one practiced arc at me, Blue pressed to my chest, Cloud's arm around her waist, and then Demi with the phone still recording.
His jaw locks. "What the fuck is going on here?"
Demi spins toward him, lowering the phone but not turning off the recording.
She steps between Mikhail and the rest of us, her posture shifting in an instant.
Her shoulders tighten, chin lifts, and voice drops into a low, velvet authority I imagine she inherited from the family tree. "Mikhail. Chill out."
His gaze flicks to Blue, then to me. The muscle in his cheek jumps. "He's not supposed to be anywhere near her."
Demi tugs his tie, pulling him closer until their faces are inches apart. "And you're not supposed to let family business turn into a public clusterfuck. So, unless you want to explain to Nikolai why you escalated instead of de-escalating, you'll follow me out. Right now."
He holds her stare for another three heartbeats. Then he exhales hard through his nose, gives me one last cold look, and warns, "I'll be in touch, Red."
Demi keeps her grip on his tie, turning him toward the hallway like she's guiding a reluctant guard dog. They disappear through the doorway. The latch clicks shut.
"That's Mikhail?" Cloud asks.
Blue nods. "Yep."
Cloud fans her hand in front of her face. "He's fucking hot."
Blue shrugs. "He's okay."
What the fuck just happened?
The room falls quiet except for my breathing, which is way too loud, and Blue's quick and shallow.
She glances at Cloud. "No more interruptions."
Cloud steps back, arms crossing. "You heard her earlier, Red. Join us or leave."
Blue's fingers slide under my shirt, nails scraping lightly across my abdomen. "Stay. We'll make your fantasies come true tonight."
I catch her chin between thumb and forefinger, tilting her head until our eyes lock. "You're not into her."
Her pupils flare.
Cloud's hands drop to her sides.
I continue, "You're doing this to make me jealous. Hell, it worked. I'm here. I'm fucking burning. But I'm not watching you pretend with someone else."
Blue's breath hitches. "Red—"
I slide my arm around her waist, pulling her tight against me. She gasps at the sudden press of my erection against her stomach. "We're leaving."
"That's no fun," Cloud whines.
"You don't want this. So let's go," I insist.
Blue searches my face for a long second. Then she turns toward Cloud, "Sorry. I'll call you tomorrow."
"Aw, okay. I guess I'll call my backup," Cloud states.
I don't say another word. I guide Blue toward the door, my hand firm at the small of her back.
She leans into the touch, her fingers curling into the front of my shirt as we step into the hallway.
The elevator ride is silent except for the soft ding when the door opens and the sound of our breath syncing up.
As soon as we get inside, Blue spins, backing me against the wall. Her mouth presses against mine, her tongue demanding entry, teeth grazing my lower lip.
I groan into the kiss, my hands sliding under her leather skirt and gripping her bare ass.
She's not wearing panties. I slide two fingers into her slick heat, and she whimpers, grinding down on my hand, coating my skin.
I break the kiss long enough to lift her. She wraps her legs around my waist. I carry her toward the bedroom, my mouth on her throat, tasting salt and vanilla.
She arches into me, raking her nails over my shoulders through my shirt.
We hit the mattress.
I follow her down, shoving the skirt up to her waist. The scab on her inner thigh glares under the bedside lamp, pink and raw. I brush my lips over it once, featherlight, then lift my gaze to hers.
"No more," I say against her skin. "No more hurting yourself."
She threads her fingers through my hair, tugging me up until our mouths are level again. "Then don't leave me."
"It's not that simple," I argue, flicking my tongue over the bruise on her neck and lightly sucking.
She arches into me, gasping, "Harder."
I obey, applying more pressure, until her body's quivering under mine, reacting how no one else ever has.
My mouth finds hers again while my hand slides between her thighs, fingers parting slick folds. She's already soaked, her clit swelling fast under my thumb.
She cries out into the kiss, her hips bucking. I circle slow, then faster, watching her face while her eyes flutter shut, lips parted, and cheeks flush.
"Tell me you own me, Dr. Mercer," she orders.
I push two fingers inside her, curling them against the spot that makes her thighs tremble, murmuring, "I own you, Bluebird."
"Mm," she moans and clenches around me.
My cock aches, trapped and leaking, but I don't rush. I want her to come apart first, want her to remember exactly whose touch makes her shake like this.
When she starts to tighten, breath hitching in short gasps, I pull my fingers free.
"Dr. Mercer," she whines in protest.
My ego spikes. I strip my shirt off, shove my slacks and boxers down just enough that my erection springs free, heavy and flushed, my tip glistening.
Blue reaches for me, guiding me to her entrance.
I sink in slow, inch by inch, until I'm buried deep.
She arches off the bed, nails digging into my back. I hold still for a second, letting her adjust, and feeling every flutter around me.
Then I move inside her, hard, deep, relentless with all the frustrations I've felt over the last few days and especially from what she put me through tonight.
She meets every thrust, legs locked around my hips, heels digging into my ass.
The bed creaks under us. Sweat slicks our skin. I drop my mouth to her throat, teeth grazing the old bite mark, then lower to her breast, sucking hard on one nipple until she keens.
"Red—fuck—don't stop—"
I don't. I angle my hips, grinding against her clit with every stroke. Her walls flutter, then clamp down. She comes with a broken cry, pulsing around me, nails scoring red lines down my back.
The sight of her head thrown back, mouth open, and body shaking snaps the last of my control.
I thrust three times, then bury myself deep and spill inside her, pulse after pulse, groaning, "Bluebird," against her shoulder.
We stay locked together, breathing hard, hearts slamming against each other. I press my forehead to hers, still buried inside her, softening slowly, and ordering, "No more games."
Blue's fingers trace my jaw, gentle now. "Then don't leave me."
"I don't ever want to. You know that, right?"
"But you did."
"You know what the risk is," I state.
She meets my eyes and asserts, "I'll figure out my father."
"We can't be reckless—"
She puts her fingers over my lips and smiles. "Stop talking, Red. I'll take care of it."
More than anything, I want to believe her. But I don't know how.