“Liege?” Ash frowned. “You mean Sam? That orange guy called him Liege, too.”
Merc shut his eyes for a long moment before he nodded. “That orange guy is our own mutant nightmare. The Matchmaker.”
“I’ve seen him too.”
“When?”
“Here. Then at my house when I would wake from a bad dream about you.”
Merc looked angry. He picked her up and settled her on his lap, her legs open over his hips. She set her hands on his shoulders, relaxing into the strange electrical current that flowed between them. She licked her lips.
“I can protect you from many things—beings—but not from him.”
“Why not him?”
“It’s his mission in life to find a mutant his mate. You and I are doomed to be together.”
Ash lifted her brows at the softly delivered insult. “Doomed?” She tried to get off his lap, but he didn’t let her.
“It’s the Matchmaker’s Curse. If we succumb to it, then we will share some amount of divine time together before you die. Minutes, hours, weeks. I don’t know. If I resist our union, then you will be safe, but I will die.”
Ash stared at him. She could see no evidence that he was lying, no waver in his expression. She smiled, then giggled, and collapsed against his chest, laughing.
Oh. Fuck. So now she knew the maestro who orchestrated the town’s brilliant resurgence.
After a moment, he pushed her upright and glared at her, which made her laugh even harder.
“You are so good at this,” she said. “How long have you been role-playing in this game? What’s it called, anyway? Mutants and Demons?” She held up her hand. “Oh, wait, no. I got it. Mutants and Monsters.”
Still chuckling, she got off his lap and started cleaning up their meal. “You really had me going at first. Then it was easy to just fall in step with you and play along.”
Merc looked stunned that she’d called him on his game. She had to really fight her laughter back. Role playing. Fucking role playing. Figured she’d fall for a guy with that lifestyle.
“The whole town here is in on this, aren’t they?”
He nodded.
“Ugh! Kiera was right. She said I fell for an elaborate scheme. God.” Ash shook her head. “Tell me, are they using chemicals? I need to know—I don’t want to lose my job because I fail a drug test through no fault of my own.”
He looked stunned…and shattered. “There may be chemicals involved, but they come from within our own bodies.”
“Riiight. What’s your real name? You owe me that at least. Not your gaming name.”
“I don’t have a human name any longer.”
“I’ll just ask Sam about it—Liege, I mean. Oh, hell. Liege. He’s in on this with you. They all are. Bastion. Guerre. Acier. You’re the original gamers for this Mutants and Monsters.”
“That’s not a thing.”
She waved her hand. “Whatever it’s called.” Another idea occurred to her. “It’s all part of Sam’s ecotourism thing, isn’t it? You have crazy shit happen in the game, stuff that takes place in a town desperately in need of increasing its tourism, and voila! A flood of gamers. Gamer tourism.” She shook her head and threw her hands in the air. “It explains everything. Even the insane fort that Sam built. Does Summer know?”
Merc nodded. Ash didn’t miss the shadows in his eyes that he tried to hide with a blink. “She knows everything.”
“She never told me about it.”
“You haven’t been initiated. She couldn’t.”
Ash took her phone out of her purse and swiped through her contacts for Lautaro’s number.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting outta here.”
“Don’t go.”
Ash’s thumb hovered over Lautaro’s number when she looked at Merc. She couldn’t stay in the same room with a sexy-as-fuck role-playing mofo…could she?
Merc grinned at her. “You have a few days left before you have to go back. Let’s spend them together.”
“Doing what? I don’t play games.”
“No? Not even in bed?”
“No. I’m a serious person.”
Merc laughed. “Then how do you explain all those times you conjured me up to love you in your sleep? To walk with you to coffee appointments? To hold your hand when you were lonely?”
Ash frowned at him. How did he know all those things? They were only in her mind. She’d spoken of them to no one, not even Summer or Kiera.
She glanced at her phone, then dropped it on the table. “You bugged my phone.”
Merc rose and prowled across the room, stepping ever closer to her. “Does your phone read your mind?”
“Maybe. Maybe there’s a new Mutant and Monsters app.” She backed away from him, but only managed to get a few steps before hitting the wall.
He stopped his forward roll when his knees touched her legs. He nudged her knees apart, getting closer to her body. “Three days. I’ll answer all your questions.”
“Three days isn’t enough.”
Merc lifted his brows. “Then we’ll begin with the most hardcore.” He set his fists against the wall behind her and bent to catch her jaw between his teeth.
Ash lifted her chin. “I have a lot of them. Too many.”
“We talkin’ questions? Or fantasies? Can there ever be too many hardcore fantasies?”
“There are if they’re never satisfied.”
“Then let’s knock some off your list.”
“But no role playing. I hate that shit.”
He kissed the side of her throat. “Mm-hmm. Because you’re a serious woman.” His beard stubble prickled the soft skin behind her ear as he nuzzled her earlobe. “Want to know one of my fantasies?” He lifted away just enough to look into her eyes. “It’s watching you learn patience. You always jump to the sex phase so you can judge a potential lover. And all your hapless victims are only too thrilled to get you there, little knowing the rush makes them one and done. But with me, you’ve finally met a man you can’t hurry along.”
She shook her head, but sadly, it was the truth. She’d long suspected she was still single because no man she’d met had truly satisfied her. But how did he know?
“Your phone told me.” He laughed, a throaty sound that rumbled from his chest to hers.
She looked over at the bed.
He shook his head. “Let’s go have a drink.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Ash felt her face heat up. “I-I can’t walk. I need you, Merc.”
“I know. I can smell your pheromones.”
Ash winced. “That’s horrible.”
“Not for me.” He slipped his hand down the waistband of her dark green travel pants. His big hand cupped her mound. She was wet. Embarrassingly so. He pressed his fingers between her lips, over her panties. She shut her eyes and drew a feathery breath.
“I’ll give you ease,” he said against her cheek.
She nodded, all for that.
He moved his fingers inside her panties, spreading her, a firm, welcome intrusion. He slid his fingers up and down, slowly, from her clit to her opening, never quite penetrating her. His fingers slipped through her wetness. Her hips arched against his hand. This was torture. She wanted him in her, wanted their bodies naked against each other.