It was all there—the time, date, and address where the interview would take place.
I glanced over at Talia, sleeping peacefully under the sedative. “You really thought you would carrymy man’schild? Not in this lifetime.”
I diverted my focus back to the photo. My thumb brushed across it, slow and soft, like touching a memory that never died.
A mischievous grin slid across my lips.
“See you soon, Jace... I mean,Merge.”
I locked the phone, slid it into my pocket, and stood.
Talia’s breathing was too calm, and her trust was too easy.
I looked down at her unconscious body and tilted my head. “Now… what am I gonna do withyou?”
Chapter eight
Kynsleigh
Istirred beneath the sheets, as my legs tangled in heat and memory.
“All this for me?” Merge growled, like he didn’t already know.
I cocked my head, lazy with lust. “No... for the next guy waiting outside,” I shot back, sarcastic as hell.
I’d always had a slick mouth, but when Merge started fucking me with enough confidence to make me question every decision that led me there, all that sarcasm died real quick.
He didn’t even flinch about protection; just skin against skin, heat against heat, and both of us too caught up to think straight. Truthfully, it was reckless as hell and probably the dumbest shit either of us could’ve done—the kind of shit nobody is supposed to do with someone they just met.
There were too many risks and too many regrets. I could’ve easily ended up tied to a man whose last name I didn’t even know, but in that moment, none of it seemed to matter. His touch was too sure of itself, my body too willing, and the liquor floating through my system wasn’t helping either.
One of Merge’s hands gripped my thigh while the other braced the wall as he pounded into me. In that moment, he wasn’t whoever he was trying to drink away, and I wasn’t the woman with the aching heart. We were just two souls trying to fuck the silence out of our heads.
“Damn,” he muttered, breath shaky.
I clenched around him, testing his stamina, seeing if he could handle me.
He could, and he did.
Merge gripped my hips and started pounding like he had something to prove, and he needed to leave a permanent reminder.
“Shit,” he hissed, forehead dropping to my shoulder. “This is what you wanted? This raw dick inside you?”
“Yesssssss!” I gasped.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and clawed at his back, needing something to hold onto besides my fading restraint.
“Yeah… just like that,” I moaned. “Don’t stop… don’t think… just fuck me like we ain’t ever gonna see each other again.”
Challenge accepted.
His strokes got deeper and nastier. It was as if he was mad at somebody and I was the apology.
I bit my lip, tilted my head back, and let my eyes roll somewhere between pain and prayer.
“Ooh shit!” I whimpered.
“Whose pussy is this?” he grunted.
