Liquid Courage Read online

“I’m sorry, the what?”

  “Or the waterfall? Don’t do the angry dragon or hot Karl even though it sounds fun in theory, it’s snot.”

  Holding back my laughter was nearly impossible. The poor woman could hardly speak. But Diane surprised Roger and I both when she asked softly, “What’s the waterfall?”

  “Fuck me,” Roger grates out.

  “Here we go,” I chuckle.

  Jumping to her feet, Mercy says,” Oh! I’ll show you, come ‘err. We never got around to this at lunch.”

  Pushing Diane to the floor, Mercy pulls her toward the sofa, making sure her lower body is supported by a pillow. “Scoot your ass up higher Diane,” she prompts. “Gotta pretend you got a dick.”

  “Oh my God,” Roger braces himself on the table.

  “Hokay,” she says throwing a leg over. “Now, I think we’re supposed to have a bed for this but we’ll improvise. Roger would be you down there and I’m you up here. So even though it’s me, pretend it’s you riding Roger’s dick, right? Do what feels right, there are no wrong answers here.”

  “Then what?” Diane asks, which shut Roger and I both up.

  “That’s the fun part,” Mercy says grinding all over Roger’s wife who was gripping Mercy’s hips. “When you both come, it’ll run down Roger’s chest like a waterf –”

  Hauling Mercy off of a dazed Diane, she grunts, “Hey! We weren’t done yet!”

  Diane was clearly horny and Roger was about to go caveman, so without putting my woman down I leave them with, “Room’s yours. Taking Mercy to bed.”

  “Thank you, Mercy!” Diane calls out.

  “Next lesson is the clinch mob!” Mercy yells back.

  Scaling the steps, I kick open my door and set Mercy on her feet. “If I get naked and tell you I adore you more than you adore me will that be weird? It’s weird, right? Should I be dressed for it? Oh hey, my rash is gone!”

  Taking her by the neck, I was too stunned to say anything, so I just drank her in.

  “I adore you so much it scares me, Dion.”

  “Don’t ever fear this, Mercy.”

  “But what if I forget you?” she asks softly and my heart broke for her.

  “Is that what worries you?”

  “It’s my biggest fear,” she sniffles.

  “If that day ever comes, I promise to remember for the both of us.”

  “Don’t ever stop adoring me, okay?”

  Tucking her in, I undress and as her eyes are closing, I kiss her lips and remind her, “I’ve adored you since the moment I heard your voice, beautiful.”

  “He adores me,” she says to herself right as she curls into me. “I’m not forgettable.”

  And then she was out.

  When I woke up, it was to Dion smirking at me.

  I may have been high on Benadryl last night, but I know exactly what I said.

  The cat was out of that bag and honestly? It felt great.

  “Hi,” he leans in to whisper against my lips.

  “Hi,” I whisper back. “I have morning breath.”

  “I don’t give a fuck,” he says rolling me on top of him. “Taking you to see my home today. Is that alright with you?”

  “Of course,” I smile happily. “I just need to –”

  “Packed your bag already.”

  “How long will we be –”

  “Two days, minimum.”

  “You want to leave –”

  “Right now, yes.”

  Laughing, I balance myself to give him a proper kiss. “Give me—”

  “An hour,” he grins.

  “Half hour,” I correct.

  Smacking my ass, he lets me up and from the bed watches me saunter to the bathroom.

  “Mercy,” he growls.

  “Hmm?”

  Nodding to the bed he orders, “Get your ass back here.”

  I didn’t yell Geronimo but I sailed in the air just the same. Catching me, Dion buries his face in my neck and says, “Hope you like my home.”

  “It’s yours, so I won’t like it. I’ll love it.”

  And can I just say, when Dion smiles I was positive I heard angels singing.

  I wasn’t stupid, I knew full well that this was his way of getting me to lay low without actually forcing the issue. I also didn’t care. Dion didn’t press me for much and bringing me to his home was important to him, therefore important to me.

  On our drive to his place, I explained where I was with our workload, my insurance claim, and Pita. Dion did what I have come to realize was standard when it came to me, growl. He thought I worked too much and wanted to know how many times I’ve been shot at over the years. He wasn’t buying the truth either. While people often lost their shit they rarely opened fire. He didn’t have much to add on the insurance side but he had plenty to say about Pita. Like how I need to let him figure out what kind of man he wanted to be. To stay out of his business and not handle his problems for him. I understood where he was coming from but there were layers upon layers of history when it came to Pita. Layers I had not shared and wasn’t inclined to at the moment because I wasn’t sure he’d understand. So, when we pulled into his driveway, I pushed the past away and focused on the present. Dion had a beautiful lakefront home. The sun was bright, the sky was clear and yet he looked like he was holding his breath.

  He may only live about an hour outside of the city but it felt like a world away. His lot was covered in trees and I could see the lake from the passenger seat. The exterior was brick and vinyl, had a wrap-around porch and adorable red shutters. Making sure I was on the right track I asked, “This style is called an A-frame, right?”

  “Yes,” he says exhaling hard. “It has the look of a two story but all the bedrooms are on the main floor. But the pitch is high enough that I was able to build a loft.”

  “If it’s half as gorgeous on the inside as it is on the out— “I wasn’t able to finish because he bolted from his seat to come around and open my door. All but yanking me out, he hauls me up the porch, punches in the code and shows me inside.

  I blinked once, twice and a third time before muttering, “Holy shit, this is unbelievable.”

  Every inch of his home was custom. And when he said he stayed in shape by working with his hands, I can see he wasn’t kidding. His home was a masterpiece and belonged on the cover of a magazine.

  Which begged the question: what was he wearing when he built it?

  I’d never given anyone a tour of my home before. Hell, next to Roger, no one else has ever been here. So, Mercy’s reaction was important to me. I wanted her to love it like I did. My home was her home, period.

  “I’m speechless,” she says linking her fingers through mine. “I can see why you don’t visit the city much.”

  “Here, I’m relaxed,” I explain. “Then I drive back and grow more tense by the mile.”

  “I don’t blame you,” she smiles. “If this were mine, I’d never leave. Can we sit out on the deck?”

  “Head out,” I say unlocking the sliding door. “I’ll grab us a drink.”

  Saluting, she exits and wastes no time finding her seat and tucking her feet beneath her. I smiled at the fact that she chose the seat opposite mine when there were several to choose from. Balancing both glasses, I join her but not before I took a moment to enjoy the sun worshipping her.

  Smiling up at me, she extends her hand to take her glass and asks, “Do you have a boat?”

  Sitting, I place my drink down and admit, “No, no boat.”

  “Totally getting you a boat,” she declares. “It’s a must.”

  “What kind of boat?”

  “Pontoon,” she says adorably. “We can fish, float, and nap.”

  “I was hoping,” I begin carefully. “That we could start spending more time here. When summer comes I –”

  “Oh my God, yes,” she says happily. “I’m in.”

  “—want to get back to living here.”

  “Okay,” she agrees then frowns. “Wait, did you thin
k I wouldn’t want to?”

  “You have a business and life in Detroit. I wasn’t sure how you would feel about relocating.”

  “I also have a car, internet, and cell phone, Dion.”

  “Speaking of a car, you need a reliable vehicle.”

  “The Mustang is as reliable as they come,” she counters.

  “It’s falling apart,” I felt the need to remind her.

  “The way I see it, you have two choices. Let me blow you outdoors or argue about the car I’m never selling thus forfeiting an amazing blowy.”

  “Less talking more sucking,” I grin because fuck it, I’ll just buy her a car for her birthday and she’ll love it.

  Spreading my thighs apart and kneeling between them, she unzips my pants, reaches in and frees me. Pulsing in her palm, she looks up and says, “Hey, Dion?”

  “Yes, Mercy?”

  “You might want to hold on for this.”

  She was not wrong because the second she latched on, I gripped the arm rests for all I was worth. I wasn’t a virgin, I’ve been with enough women to know which had skill and which did not. The woman taking me down the back of her throat wasn’t skilled, she was a master. Keeping my eyes open was impossible when her mouth felt so good. “Harder,” I say arching up in my seat. In response, she increases suction and speed which sent me over way faster than I had liked. Seeing stars and damn near close to crying in happiness, Mercy kisses my inner thigh and whispers, “I adore you so much, Dion. But it needs to be said, I’m obsessed with your dick.”

  Pulling her up and into my lap, she snuggles in with her arms wrapped around my neck. And I had never been more content in my life. Staring out at the view, the very reason I built the place, I made sure she knew, “I love-adore-worship you too, Mercy. And so, does my dick.”

  Jolting up, she locks eyes with me and blurts, “Say it again,” as if she still can’t believe it.

  “You are it for me, woman. My dick and I are obsessed with you too.”

  I saw the uncertainty in her eyes and hated her fucking ex for putting it there. However, had he been anything less than a piece of fucking shit, I wouldn’t have Mercy licking my release off her lips. To make sure she knew she’s the first and only to own my heart, I tell her, “I built this place for you. Every nail, board, and square foot. All of it, Mercy. It’s for you.”

  “But you didn’t know me,” she says with so much vulnerability my heart broke.

  “Not when I built it, no. You’re right, I didn’t. But I knew you existed. I had faith that one day I would find you and I did. I knew it the second I saw your hair and heard your voice.”

  “I knew it when I saw you laughing.”

  “You like my broad shoulders.”

  Kissing me once she grins seductively with all traces of doubt gone, “That I do.”

  That night Mercy fell asleep on my chest, in our bed and I slept sound.

  She was finally home.

  Not only can Dion make a mean breakfast, he was also an excellent tour guide. Hand-in-hand we walked around the lake stopping at local bars for a drink and people watching. It was around five o’clock and both of us were buzzed, wiped from the fresh air and ready to head home.

  Home.

  When Dion told me he’d built it for me, I believed him. I saw the truth in his eyes and all my fears went poof.

  While I’ve done some pretty amazing things over the years, I’ve lived in Michigan my entire life and until Dion, I had just never taken the time to appreciate what was in my backyard.

  After marinating dinner and pouring us more drinks, I met Dion out on his deck and when he looked up and smiled at me, I actually froze and he noticed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I smile warmly. “It’s just, sometimes…you stop me right where I stand.”

  Extending his hand, I take it, letting him pull me closer. Balancing both drinks in one hand, I placed my free palm on his cheek and when he rested his head against my stomach, I let the tear roll down my cheek.

  Feeling loved was one thing. Knowing you were loved and adored was everything. Especially when you’ve waited your whole life for it.

  “Come,” he says easing back into his chair. “Sit with me, relax.”

  As the sun set, we were content sitting on his deck wrapped up in each other while we talked about everything and nothing. Although, Dion had just told me that if Diane ever got pregnant, he would buy Roger out and how he felt the time was coming. Which got me thinking, “Do you want kids?”

  “If it happens, it happens,” he says easily. “If it doesn’t, I’m perfectly fine with having all of your attention. In fact,” he says kissing my nose. “I can’t get enough of it.”

  “Well,” I say flipping my hair. “I can’t blame you. Plus, I’m an attention whore anyway.”

  “Do you want kids, Mercy?”

  And here it comes, the look of disappointment. “No, I don’t want kids for myself. At least, not anytime soon.”

  “I was thinking we could check out the boat warehouse tomorrow.”

  “Dion, did you hear what I said?”

  Taking my hand, he flips it over palm up and kisses it. “I heard you,” he grins. “And that means I get you all to myself. I’m a greedy man, Mercy. I don’t need kids to enrich my life. I have you, which means I have everything I need.”

  Skeptical, I bite my lip and that’s when he loses his grin. “I’m not saying this to placate you,” he warns. “I’m not going to wake up one day and change my mind. Kids or no kids, as long as I have you, I’m happy.”

  Taking him at his word, I nod, “Okay.”

  “Maybe a puppy someday,” he adds.

  “I adore dogs,” I smile huge at the thought.

  “And I adore you,” he says reaching for his drink. “I also love that book of positions. Are you up for it?”

  Jumping out of my seat, I race him inside to snag it only to find he had kept it in his pocket.

  “You were born to be sneaky,” I grin while slowly easing the straps from my shoulders.

  “Thoughts on The menthol?” he asks with a straight face.

  “What’s it entail?”

  “Eating cough drops then sucking my dick.”

  “Doable. So, if I agree to the menthol, will you agree to the standing wheel barrow?”

  When his eyes widen and his breathing hitches, I shuck my jeans off and sashay down the hall to his medicine cabinet to pillage it. Second shelf on the far right was a sleeve of Luden’s Cherry Cough Drops and like a good girlfriend, I didn’t eat one. No, I ate four.

  “—I can’t push any harder,” she huffs. “You’re too big and tight…”

  “Fuck!” I roar in agony. “You’re hurting me, woman!”

  “Then fist yourself crybaby! I’m only so strong! You need someone with more experience!”

  “What I need is drugs!”

  “Ugh!” she says climbing off of me and flipping her sweaty hair from her face.

  Last night after my cock went numb, I was plowing Mercy in a stellar standing wheel barrow when my fucking back locked up, sending her face first into the carpet.

  I’ve been on my stomach bitching about the pain ever since. Bless her heart, she’s spent half the morning trying to work the kinks out only it won’t budge. It was excruciating to say the least, and not once has she complained about the rug burn on her chin. Mercy was worried about me even though her injury was my fault.

  “I’m sorry,” I say reaching for her. “How’s your chin?”

  “It’s fine,” she says sitting on the floor to hold my hand. “We can put that one on the do-not-repeat list.”

  “Until it works itself free, I guess I’ll have to satisfy myself with the menthols…”

  “You poor baby,” she coos patting my cheek. “How ever will you survive?”

  “Sheer will, baby. Sheer will. And scotch.”

  “I’ll grab some groceries while I’m getting your back patches,” she says kissing my cheek. “Anything els
e?”

  “I’m good,” I assure her on a yawn. “I’ll close my eyes for a bit.”

  “Rest,” she whispers, tucking a blanket all around me.

  With my woman taking care of me, I was out in minutes.

  When I opened my eyes, I realized I had slept the day away and Mercy still wasn’t back.

  So, when my phone rang, I had to roll myself from the couch and fucking crawl to the kitchen to grab it before voicemail picked up. Much to my frustration, this took some time and screaming.

  Finally able to half-way stand, with the help of a dining room chair, I slide my phone open to see a dozen missed calls. Half from Mercy, half from Pita.

  With shaky hands, I dial her back but the call was cut short on the first ring. Granted, service was spotty out here but my next three calls cut out too.

  When I saw the kid’s been trying to call for two days, I opened the first of four messages and hit play.

  Dion? It’s me, Pita. I uh…need Mercy.

  Please Dion, make her pick up her phone.

  Don’t let her come here! Keep her away!

  I’m sorry, Dion. I fucked up.

  The final message was from Mercy and she left it roughly an hour ago.

  It’s me. I didn’t get my messages until I cleared the trees. So here’s the thing, I’m on my way to save Pita. Now before you flip out, I need you to trust that I know what I’m doing. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I thought I had him protected…I can’t let him down twice, I can’t. I’m sorry for not telling you the truth and um, stealing your truck. I promise to call you the second he’s safe, so please, rest up and if you could find it in your heart to still adore me after what I’m about to do…I’d appreciate it. Because I adore you with everything I’ve got, Dion.

  Pissed off, worried as fuck and in agonizing pain, I locate where my God damn truck is headed first, manage to dress second, sling my old ass over my bike third and last; haul ass back to Detroit.

  Pita was in trouble, which meant Mercy was in trouble.