Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 127712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
He’s right in front of me now. Smiling at me as he takes my hand and places it over his groin. He’s not hard, but he will be soon if I let him do this.
“Care to enlighten me? Hmm? Just this once?” He squeezes my hand, which in turn squeezes his dick.
I don’t stop him. Instead, I reach for him. I place one hand on his face the same way I do with Nova. It’s the same way that Mercer does with me. And then I lean in and kiss him.
He kisses me back for three seconds, then he pulls away, turns—breaking my contact with his quickly hardening cock—and walks over to the window again. This time, he doesn’t sit down. I watch his reflection in the huge pane of glass.
“Turn the lights off.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want you looking at me, Locke.”
I walk over and flip the lights off. Because at least he didn’t say, ‘Because I said so.’ Then I walk over to the window and stand next to him in the dark.
It’s a really nice view. The lake under the moonlight. A few tree branches to break it all up. Mercer and I have the same view, actually. He’s just half a story below me.
“So you’re leaving me?”
“What?” I scoff the word out.
“You’re leaving me.” It’s not a question this time. I can still see a little bit of his reflection in the glass and his face is hard now.
“What makes you think that?”
He turns his head so he can side-eye me. “Because you love her, Locke. You always have. And you never could accept what she and I did at the end.”
“Well.” I let out a long breath. “I do love her. But you’re wrong. I’m not leaving you. I’d never leave you.”
“What if I kicked you out? Would you go then?”
Immediately, I frown. “Maybe we should talk about all this stuff in the morning.”
“Maybe that would’ve worked if you hadn’t kissed me.”
I don’t know what to say to that. Actually, yes. I do. “We’re thirty-seven years old, Mercer. We’ve been together for thirty of those years. If I want to kiss you, I will. And if you don’t want me to kiss you, then you shouldn’t kiss me back when I do it.”
He’s still side-eyeing me. But now he turns his body and looks at me straight on. “It’s over.”
I shake my head. “It’s not.”
“You should go.”
“No. I’m not leaving.”
“Then I should go.” Then he turns away and walks towards the door. “I’ll be in Boston if you need anything.”
“You’re a fucking dick, you know that?”
He halts. “Excuse me?” Then turns.
“You heard me. You take, Mercer. You’re a taker. You want things your way and—”
“You’re damn fucking right I do!” He yells this. No. Roars this. “And you know how I am. Yet you stay.” I open my mouth to argue back, but he beats me to it. “Don’t. Don’t tell me you love me, Locke. You don’t love me. You’re addicted to me. There’s a huge difference. I’ve tried everything I can to make you go. To make you leave me. And you just. Keep. Coming. Back.”
“Fuck you.”
“Why don’t you just go to her? Just leave. I won’t miss you.”
I walk over to him and shove him so hard, his back crashes against the wall. He’s not a small man. Over six feet tall, just like me. But his muscles are lean. He wears his suits well. I have ten or twenty pounds of muscle on him, easy. I look much better in t-shirts. So my shove is serious.
He laughs at me. “Why do you refuse to accept the truth? Huh? You, of all people, Locke. You know what the truth is, and yet you stay in the lie. Why? Why do you do it?”
“It’s not a lie.”
“No?” He scoffs.
“It’s not a lie, and you know it. We’ve been together—”
“Who cares? When will you have had enough? What is your breaking point, Locke? Hmm? What do I have to do to get you there?”
There are two steps between us and I cross them in one. Then I take his face in both my hands and I kiss him again.
It’s not frantic. It’s not desperate, either.
It’s the same fucking kiss he gives me. I just give it back.
I don’t know what he’s gonna do. Pull away, kick me out, punch me out. But he doesn’t do any of those things.
He just… kisses me back.
Pushes my hands off his face and places his on mine.
He takes over.
He takes control back.
Because this is Mercer’s thing. He has to be in control. He’s the one who lives in a lie, not me. He’s the one who denies our love, not me.
See, this is where Nova got it wrong.
Mercer isn’t torturing me, he’s torturing himself.
CHAPTER ELEVEN – NOVA
FIVE YEARS AGO
At exactly noon the next day, there is a knock on my cottage door.