Chapter 20
Kane
The tension in the house finally dissipates.
Not completely—Zane is still awkward when Mercy walks in the room—but it’s better, and that’s what matters.
“You should apologize,” I tell him one evening as we pile chopped wood for a bonfire.
It’s been a few days since the blow job that rocked his world, as I affectionately call it, and it’s about time that they move onto the next stage of their relationship.
Preferably, one that involves more naked time between them.
Thinking about how willing Mercy was to make all three of us, the men—her men?—come brings a smile to my face every time.
Zane keeps calling me out about it.
“Stop smiling,” he grumbles, half-heartedly glaring as he flicks the lighter on and off. “Pervert.”
“You enjoyed it,” I remind him for the dozenth time. It’s one thing for me to catch Zane moaning in his sleep, but for him to admit it out loud? That he actually enjoyed our spontaneous love-fest?
It’ll take an act of God to get those lips moving.
“You should still apologize.” I peek at him from the corner of my eye.
Admitting to any wrong-doing is another touchy subject for him.
He doesn’t like to be wrong. But orchestrating that bullshit at the party and then drugging all of us here at the cabin takes things to another level—a bad one.
I don’t give a shit if he torments other people, but our people?
If things are going to level out between the four of us and turn into something… better, we’ve got to nip that in the bud now, before Zane gets any other nefarious ideas.
“I’m not apologizing, because I’m not sorry.
” It’s the same line Zane’s been giving me for days.
Every time he says it, he gets quieter and quieter.
I don’t think he one-hundred-percent believes that he was in the right for the shit he’s pulled, but it’s a lie that helps him sleep at night.
Even though Mercy forgave him, it’s a hard thing for him to swallow.
But she swallows like a champ.
Unable to stop myself from grinning, I smack Zane’s arm as he spreads the kindling to start the fire.
That whole day from start to finish feels like a fever dream.
The morning kiss with Mercy, the hottest shower of my life, drugging my boyfriend and watching him get royally rocked by the not-virgin.
Man, I can’t make this shit up. I’ve been dying for another taste, but Mercy and Sam have been holed up in their bedroom—yes, one bedroom—for days while Zane and I canoodle on our own.
Being with Zane on his own is fun, sure, but I was hoping for a more open relationship between the four of us.
“That’s my Thanksgiving wish,” I say aloud, knowing that Zane is listening. “To keep this thing between us going.”
“You don’t make Thanksgiving wishes.” Zane pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s Christmas.”
Whatever. It’s a holiday.
I poke him with a stick. “Don’t you want to keep things going?”
“Keep what going?”
“I don’t know, things.” I wave my stick around. “Between all of us.” If I say that what we’re building is more than sex, Zane might freak out, so instead, I call it what it is right now. “Like sex. Didn’t you have fun the other night?”
Zane scrunches his cute fucking face like he’s irritated. “Since when is being tied up against my will fun?”
“Since now.” Smiling, I tug on the bottom of his shirt.
We still haven’t bought any clothes since we failed to bring our shit from home, so we’re wearing whatever the fuckers in the cabin own.
Today, Zane’s rocking a navy flannel button up, khaki cargo pants, and brown work boots.
Totally rustic. Not at all like the moody, grunge man I know and love.
Still, the “mountain man” look has its charm. Now I just need to get him to grow a beard and wear those slutty fucking glasses I love so much. Mmm.
Sliding my fingers beneath his shirt, I splay my palm flat over his stomach. The happy trail leading down to his crotch is soft to the touch. “C’mon, admit that you loved it. I won’t tell anyone.”
Zane blushes. “I did not!”
“You were so hard for Mercy. How did she feel in your lap? I’m a little jealous she sat on you instead of me.” Then again, I got to slide my cock through her soaking wet pussy, sort of, and that was heaven. “I’m gonna fuck her,” I murmur, licking my lips. “You gonna watch, babe?”
The pink on Zane’s cheeks darkens to crimson. “No!” He shoves more kindling beneath the stacked logs and struggles to light them. With a growl, he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Why do you have to fuck her?”
What kind of a question is that?
“I’ve always wanted to fuck her.” Taking the lighter from him, I spark the igniter and light the kindling. After blowing on it for a second, I meet his eyes. “Don’t you?”
He grits his teeth. “No.”
I grab his chin. “Zane. Stop lying to me.”
“I’m not lying.”
“You are. You have been for a while now.” I tighten my grip. “Why is it so hard to admit that you like her?”
A sound catches in his throat. “I don’t like her!”
Taking a calming breath, I keep pushing. “You’re scared to lose me. I get it. But what’s the worst that can happen from sleeping with her? You have a good time? We have a good time?”
Zane remains silent for a long moment. “I don’t want to love someone else, Kane.
I don’t even want to like someone else. It doesn’t matter who it is.
They just…” He clenches and unclenches his fists repeatedly, wrinkling my long-sleeve shirt.
“They disappear, and I can’t—” He swallows.
“I can’t handle it, okay? I’m not like you. ”
Ducking my head, I press a gentle kiss to his lips.
“Love hurts,” I murmur, breathing in Zane’s exhale.
“But that ache in your chest—the one you think you can’t handle?
It’s supposed to be there. It means that you have a heart.
” I thump my fist on Zane’s chest, directly over his heart.
“That’s a beautiful thing, baby. That you can feel so much. ”
He stares into my eyes. “I don’t want to feel this much, Kane.”
I wish that I could kiss away all the pain he’s ever felt in his lifetime—even the pain that hasn’t happened yet.
But for now, I’ll settle for what I can soothe, and that’s the doubt knocking around his chest. Sighing into his mouth, I cup the back of his neck and brush my eyelashes over his cheek.
“Life is worth the pain,” I remind him, quoting the very thing I tell my victims before they die.
I give them one last chance to change their minds about dying before I slit their throats.
But by then, the damage to their souls, their psyche, whatever you want to call it, has already been done.
It doesn’t matter how many flowers or smiles I bring—they’ve lost their will to live by the time I show up and remind them how good life can be.
Any happiness we have together is temporary, on both sides.
But with Zane, our happiness is forever. I think that with Mercy, we could expand that happiness tenfold. We can get out of the killing business if needed. Tell the bratva to suck it when they come calling about disposal jobs, and just—end the cycle. Stop the bleed inside Zane’s heart.
“For what it’s worth,” I whisper, brushing my lips over my lover’s, “I think you should follow wherever your heart leads, even if that’s away from me.”
Zane inhales sharply. “Never—”
“Shh. Listen.” I meet his cautious eyes.
“We won’t step into our best lives if we stand still.
We have to keep moving in the direction that feels best, even if it doesn’t seem like it makes sense.
And,” I breathe, smiling softly, “I’ll be right here with you the entire time.
So if you decide that you don’t want her, that’s okay.
And if you do, that’s okay, too. I’m with you no matter what.
But I want you to try it out for a bit. See how it feels.
” I kiss him gently, ecstatic when he kisses me back.
“You don’t even have to tell me how it goes. I promise.”
“It won’t go anywhere,” he grumbles, frowning. “But for you, I’ll… try. Only once.” As Mercy and Sam emerge from the back porch with marshmallows and graham crackers tucked beneath their arms, Zane sighs. “Do we really have to do this?”
I wrap my arm around my grumpy bastard’s waist. “Yeah. Try to enjoy it.” Kissing his temple, I smile. “Nothing bad’s going to happen if you live a little, Zane.”
Scrunching his nose, he makes a sour face. “That’s what everyone says before the sky falls.” He glances up at the clear blue sky, its color rapidly shifting as sunset approaches.
“Okay, Mr. Doom and Gloom.” I roll my eyes.
He can be such a stick in the mud. “Hey! Mercy! Toss me some chocolate.” I jab my thumb into Zane’s shoulder.
“He fucking needs it.” Catching the candy bar she throws my way, I grin as I unwrap the chocolate and shove it into Zane’s mouth.
“Swallow that and keep the fire going. I’m gonna get us some drinks. ”
Having a bonfire is another fantastic idea of mine. Zane and I usually stick indoors during our cabin vacations, but this time, I want to try new things. Explore new people. Live a little.
The whiskey I nabbed from the bar pairs perfectly with the sticky sweet treats, and we all pass around the bottle as we take turns making smores. Sam gets melted marshmallow on his face, Mercy smears chocolate all over her fingers, and Zane—
Well, he’s trying to be friendly.
It’s fucking hilarious.
Scowling as he smashes a graham cracker onto a burnt marshmallow, he peels his sticky fingers away before shoving the smore at Mercy. “Here.”
She blinks at him. “I’ve already got one.” There’s a half-eaten smore in one of her hands and a near-empty bag of marshmallows in the other. “But thanks.”
Zane’s jaw clenches. “I made it for you.”
“Thank you?”
With a huff, Zane smacks her old smore—from Sam, I think—to the ground and places the new one in her hand. “Eat it.” When she doesn’t take the treat, he presses it against her lips. “I made it for you,” he repeats, still frowning.
Not only did he make that one specifically for her, he fed me a half dozen of his first attempts, trying to create the perfect one to give to Mercy. Burning the marshmallow, although not everyone’s preference, melted the chocolate the best.
Sure, his delivery could be ten times better, but he’s not pretending to be charming. He’s being himself.
I absolutely love that for him.
The burnt mallow cream oozes out from between the crackers and sticks to the seam of Mercy’s lips. Relenting, she peels her mouth open only for Zane to shove half the smore inside. When she bites down, his fingers get in the way, but he doesn’t pull them out.
“Should’ve known you’d suck at eating,” he hisses. “If I hadn’t shoved your head down, I bet you wouldn’t have been able to swallow.”
Sam spews his drink over the fire. “What the fuck, dude?”
I tamp down the urge to rescue Zane from himself.
He’s got to figure this out on his own. The whiskey, although great for warming our blood, has consequences…
this being one of them. What little of Zane’s filter exists rapidly deteriorates until he’s either a cuddly mess or a grouchy one—and tonight, it seems that the grouch has come to play.
Mercy spits the smore out and grabs Zane’s hand, ripping his fingers from her mouth. “At least this tastes better,” she snaps, glaring at him. “Your cum was rancid.”
“Was not!”
“Was too!”
Sighing, Sam frees himself from Mercy’s death grip and trudges across the fire to me. “This was your idea, wasn’t it?”
I smile as I take a sip of whiskey. “Guilty as charged.”
“They’re going to rip each other’s throats out.”
Grunting, I pass Sam the bottle. “Nahh. They just need to get it out of their system, and they’ll be fine.”
Sam’s scowl mirrors Zane’s. “Why push them together at all?”
“Zane needs it.”
“But she doesn’t.”
“She wants it,” I murmur, licking my lips.
The pair are in each other’s faces now, turning something as simple as holding hands into a death match between fingers.
They fight for dominance without realizing it, grabbing the other roughly until they pull free.
Back and forth they go, arguing over who had the upper hand during their blow job.
Sam takes a large swig from the bottle and sits down on the blanket beside me. “I’m only here because of her,” he says after a moment. “She asked me to come with her, and I—”
“Couldn’t say no?”
He rests the half-empty bottle against my knee. “Something like that.”
Nodding towards the arguing couple, I ask Sam something I’ve been wondering over the past few days.
“Have you guys been fucking?” Sam’s good at keeping his emotions in check, and Mercy’s been oddly tight-lipped in the mornings.
I don’t know what they’ve been doing every night, but it hasn’t been loud—much to my disappointment.
There’s only so much I can hear through the crack beneath their bedroom door.
“Yeah.” A tender smile curves on Sam’s lips as he stares at Mercy. “It’s been… nice. Quiet.”
Not rushed, I’m sure he means, which could mean that it’s also passionless and boring. Two points for me and Zane, then. Our sex with Mercy will be anything but boring. I’m sure that’s what she’s missing, too—a good, hard fuck.
“Stretch her out for me,” I murmur, unable to hide my smirk. Sam punches my arm and turns red like he’s embarrassed, but at least he doesn’t refuse or try to deny that he’s warming her up for me. We both know that I’ll get inside her sweet pussy before the week is over. Just…
I watch eagerly as Zane drops to his knees, face flushed as he drags Mercy onto his lap and kisses her senseless, groaning into her mouth as he weaves his fingers through her flowing hair.
…maybe after my boyfriend indulges himself first.