AN: Here we go, a second chapter. I'm not 100% pleased with it, but it takes me a while sometimes to get into my "rhythm" with stories…so it is what it is.

I guess there's something of a smut warning, but I'll go ahead and let anyone who doesn't know it already know that my Mandrea fics tend to be somewhat smuttier than any of my other fics…I don't know why…it just happens more often. There's also an AN at the end that you should read so that you're not shocked/offended/etc. at any point with the smut.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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Andrea hadn't driven to the Coyote Crossing…Merle had learned that as their evening had drawn to a close and they had waited out last call. She'd come with the asshole who'd ditched her.

And Merle figured it was his loss because he'd fed her enough drinks to have her making bad decisions even if she hadn't come with that in mind…which she clearly had.

When they'd finally left the bar, Merle had helped her out to his truck. He was drunk, but she was a little bit drunker and loose slag over old, uneven asphalt was a well-known enemy to high heels…especially if the person operating the heels was at least two sheets to the wind.

And by the glory of all his practice driving under the influence without appearing to local law enforcement to be that way, Merle got them back to the trailer that he shared with his brother…or rather the trailer that he shared with his brother whenever the hell is brother bothered to be home…he was shacking up half the damn time with his girlfriend…or she would occasionally spend the night at the trailer…so he wasn't quite as permanent a feature in Merle's life as he once had been.

"Home Sweet Fuckin' Home, Sugah," Merle said, guiding the woman into the trailer.

And having left behind the rocky parking lot, she was steadier on her feet than he'd thought she was.

And she wasted no time making herself at home, ridding her feet of the shoes that were trying to break her neck just as she came in the door.

The change made her shrink a few inches, but Merle wasn't interested in her height.

"Well isn't this…cozy," she mused, looking around the trailer that had been manufactured forever ago and held a décor that Merle teased was "retro chic" after he saw the term somewhere, and not even knowing what the hell it meant, took a shine to it.

"You done drinkin' or just gettin' started?" Merle asked.

Now that he realized the blonde was not nearly as drunk as he thought she'd been when she was tottering on the rocks outside Coyote Crossing, he didn't feel the need to cut her off to keep her from passing out cold.

"Got a bathroom? I'd like to freshen up…and I'll have a drink…" Andrea said.

Merle gestured with his hand toward the hallway where she'd find the only bathroom in the place beside the little one in his brother's room that was more like a closet with a toilet and a sink that didn't work half the time and sent a howling noise through one whole side of the place when you used it that sounded like foxes in heat.

"Right down there…ya want'cha whiskey straight up or on the rocks?" Merle asked.

"Straight up," Andrea responded, heading toward the bathroom that Merle had pointed out to her.

Merle's practice with women was something almost tried and true for him…but already things were different with Andrea.

Usually he brought them home with him if they drove. The fact that they could be sober enough to make it his trailer meant that, after sweating some of the alcohol out of their systems, he didn't feel like they were stranded and he had no problem telling them to up and get their asses back to their own homes.

If the women didn't drive…he typically would spring for one of the cheap ass motel rooms on the edge of town…twenty bucks was a fair price for a lay and a foolproof escape plan…and there he'd leave their asses when he was done…and they could figure out their own way home in the morning whenever they checked out of the place.

But with Andrea he'd already brought her home, not exactly sure why even, instead of going to a motel…which meant that he was going to have to take her home when it was time for her to go to keep from being an even bigger asshole than he normally embraced being.

He figured, though, that he could deal with that shit later…right now it was time to reap the rewards of having spent all night drinking with her…though it hadn't been the worst company he'd ever kept at a bar such as Coyote Crossing.

When Andrea came back through the kitchen, she was shaking out her hair, apparently having removed whatever implement had been holding it up, and she offered him a smile as she took the glass from his hand that he offered her.

"You live alone?" She asked.

"Nah…my brother lives here…when he ain't shackin' up with his girl," Merle said.

He hoped she didn't think that he was like his brother…because they had entirely different views on women, domesticity, and what they hell they wanted out of life. Daryl was the sweet one and he'd offered himself up to be neutered quick enough. That wasn't Merle's cup of tea.

Andrea raised an eyebrow at Merle and smirked.

"You got a bedroom…or are you the couch dwelling type?" She asked, waving her whiskey glass under her nose to find, probably to her surprise, that Merle's personal stock boasted good liquor.

Merle smirked and lowered his eyebrows at her.

She knew how to play the game alright…and Merle was relieved to think that she had just as little interest in shacking up as he did. She knew why the hell they were here…and it wasn't to pick out fucking curtains and talk about what the hell to name their future kids.

They were here to fuck, plain and simple…it's what she wanted…and he was a man who aimed to please.

"Right through here, darlin'," Merle growled, leading the way to his room.

Merle's room was simple enough. He wasn't one for flash and flair and he sure as shit wasn't one of those people who wasted his time and his energy on things like decorating. He had furniture he'd picked up second hand and it existed to fill functions…that was it.

And honestly, he had nice sheets and pillows…but the only reason he could even boast having that was because Daryl's little girlfriend, a practical living Betty Crocker or something, had come through when she'd started staying there and replaced a lot of the shit that they'd had forever…linens included.

"Nice," Andrea purred, sitting down on Merle's bed. He closed the bedroom door, just in case Daryl were to come in at some point, and leaned against the wall, nursing his whiskey. He wasn't going to bark orders at her or tell her she couldn't sit on the bed…she looked like a woman who had put on a show or two in her life and he was curious to see how the hell she might choreograph things.

"How…" Merle stopped and sucked his teeth. For some women…the doe eyed innocents who didn't know what the fuck was really going on…he might try to sugar coat shit a little…but for Andrea, he didn't feel like the extra spoonful of sugar was needed. "How ya wanna do this shit?"

Andrea hummed and changed her position, crossing her legs and leaning on the one arm that wasn't holding her drink.

"Oh…you've got more than one move in your bag of tricks?" She asked.

Merle chuckled at the challenge.

"Darlin'…I got all the damn moves…what's ya pleasure?" Merle asked.

Andrea echoed his sucking of teeth and tasted the amber liquid that she wasn't drinking with the same fever that she'd employed in the bar.

She tipped her head to the side.

"I don't think you could handle it," she said. She made a face that looked a little like she was disappointed in whatever she was thinking about. "So…we'll just go with whatever you had in mind…"

Merle raised an eyebrow at her new challenge.

He considered himself pretty sexually well-versed…and he didn't like the suggestion that there was anything that this blonde could desire or dish out that his ass couldn't carry.

"Fuck's ya pleasure?" He growled again. "Don't reckon ya know what the hell I can handle an' what the hell I can't…"

She smirked at him and leaned, putting her glass on the nightstand. She got to her feet then, standing in place, and she worked her way out of the clothes she was wearing with enough grace that he couldn't begin to think that this was a woman who had very little practice taking her clothes off for show.

And once she was stripped of them, she stood there in front of him in a black lace bra and matching thongs…and that coupled with the fact that she was clearly meticulously groomed made Merle lick his lips quickly and confirmed for him the fact that she hadn't ended up here by accident…this was no accident at all.

"You like what you see?" She asked, running her fingers in the waist band of the black thongs and tipping her head to the side.

Merle chuckled and put his own glass down before he stepped toward her and wrapped his arms around her, unashamedly cupping her ass and pulling her up and against him.

And when she moved, licking his neck, he thought it was nice…he couldn't imagine what the hell might have led her to think he couldn't take anything she could dish out…and do so gladly. But he wasn't expecting her to latch her teeth onto him and he shoved her off out of the shock, hard enough to send her bouncing to the bed that was behind her to break her fall.

And she pulled her legs up, chuckling quietly as he rubbed at the spot where he was sure she'd at least slightly broken the skin.

"What's ya fuckin' problem?" He spat. "Crazy ass bitch!"

Andrea laughed lightly.

"Take your clothes off," she said. "Unless you're leaving them on for some reason…"

Merle wanted to be pissed that the bitch had up and bit him, but she was there and she was looking pretty damn hot...and she was half naked and wanting what he wanted to give her…so he wasn't going to be too damn pissed.

Merle took off his clothes with less interest in putting on a show than she'd shown in her stripping. He wasn't playing games and he wasn't pretending that he wasn't already turned on…not that he could really hide it since he didn't even bother to try to wow her with his plaid boxer shorts.

He went to the nightstand and yanked the drawer open, fishing out the box of condoms and tossing one onto the bed so that it landed beside her.

She picked it up nonchalantly and opened it, offering him the condom to put on…so he stroked himself and did exactly what she'd insinuated he should.

And it didn't take them long to find each other and to tangle up in the first of kisses and gropes. And it didn't take Merle long to get rid of the bra that was keeping him away from the tits that he wanted to spend a little quality time with and that she allowed him, tossing her head back and digging her fingers into his head like she was demanding that he stay there…worshipping the breasts that his tongue and teeth were finding much to their liking.

"None of this love making, flowers and candy bullshit," Andrea said in a throatier voice than before as she shifted around on the bed, ridding herself of the underwear that she was wearing so that it dropped to the floor with everything else that had been cast off. "I'm here for you to fuck me…"

Merle chuckled, slipping his hand down to tease her and caress her, growing harder at finding her as wet and ready as she was. She wasn't playing around…and she wasn't going to be one of those that he had to spend half the night trying to work up to the whole reason that he'd brought her there.

"However ya want it, sugah," Merle said, pushing two of his fingers inside of her quickly and without warning…smiling at the way that she looked surprised at first and then she purred at him, moving up to lick at the spot on his neck that earlier she'd bit while he worked her.

He had a feeling…though he wasn't sure how much of it he dared to explore at the moment…that there might be more to this woman than he'd even suspected when she raked her nails down his back, biting at his chest. It wasn't something he was used to, but at the moment it wasn't something he disliked either…and he liked the jolt it sent through him.

And Merle sometimes felt sorry when he got, as he thought, a little out of hand and maybe fucked a woman a little harder or rougher than he'd intended.

He was an asshole, after all, but he still held something of pride in the fact that he treated the women he was with, while he was with them, with as much physical respect as he felt he should. And even though he didn't really want to see their asses anymore after they left…he didn't want them leaving feeling like it had been a total fuck up on their part to have ever gone with him in the first place.

And he was sure that was why there were always those that tried to come back for more…there were always those who thought that once should turn into twice…and twice should turn into picking out the damn curtains and naming the future kids.

But he knew by the time they both collapsed, sweaty and both a little bloody in places from the sex that had almost dissolved into a battle of sorts between them, that he'd been anything but gentle and anything but respectful with the woman.

But this time, he didn't feel sorry for it…because he had done, each step of the way, what the fuck she'd asked him to do…no matter how much it had thrown him for a moment and made him have to remind himself that she was far more sober than he'd originally thought…and that she was sober enough to know what the hell she was getting off from and what she wasn't.

And they'd both gotten off…and Merle felt tired and invigorated at the same damn time…so he figured it was mission accomplished.

Andrea got out of the bed, and Merle's first thought was that she was leaving…already knowing the drill and recognizing this for exactly what it was, but then he remembered that she didn't have a car.

"Fuck you goin'?" He asked.

She smiled at him.

"Refresh my drink…rinse off a little in the bathroom…that fine with you?" She asked.

He grunted and got up himself. Rinsing off might not be a bad idea because he had plenty on him he could stand to sleep without.

"Listen…I'ma take ya ass home…first damn thing in the mornin'…" he said.

Andrea nodded her head.

"Wouldn't expect any different," she said before she walked out the bedroom door…naked and apparently not even giving a fuck to check and see if Daryl might have come in during their little rendez-vous.

Merle stood there for a moment, shaking his head to himself.

He'd picked up a lot of damn women in his life…but he had a feeling that this one, well, she was a breed all her own.

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AN: So it should be said that the way in which I write Merle and Andrea usually has them both (at least eventually) sharing a certain "kink" with each other.

And they enjoy rough (and sometimes violent) flings with one another. But I know that for some people this is problematic or you want to assume the worst.

So I'm asking you to remember that they are two (fictional…but that's always beside the point) consenting adults who have a certain kink that they share with each other. Their games are just that…games…that they play with each other. They may insult/berate/etc. each other and things like that, but both of them do it as part of the game.

Nothing between them is a genuine act of violence or abuse. I don't condone that in any way. It is simply a way that they choose to perform with one another from time to time for their mutual pleasure. I just felt I should explain this before anything happens that gets anyone up in arms.