The Ones You Love Chapter 8 by Yinx

Sam burst into his eldest room for the fifth time that afternoon. "Okay which tie," he panicked holding five or six ties in each hand.

Simon glanced up from his homework. "No tie Dad."

"Okay…okay…okay," Sam rushed out and was back a minute later carrying what looked like his whole shoe collection. "Shoes"?

"Dad, really it's just an art show why are you even putting in the effort you never have before."

Sam dropped the shoes. "Your mom is going to be there." He picked up a pair holding it against his pant leg.

"Oh," Simon turned back to his work. "The black wing tips," he muttered over his shoulder.

Sam slipped his feet into the shoes. "What's up"?

"The ceiling first, then five more apartments, then the sky, and finally the last frontier," Simon pointed up.

"Don't get smart," Sam warned sitting on the bed to tie his shoes. "What's bothering you, Simon"?

"Nothing."

"Simon."

"Nothing really, Dad, I promise I got a lot of homework and finals are coming up." Simon gave him a weak smile as he looked over his shoulder.

"Simon," Sam said again calmly.

"K, fine." He turned back around. "Look I don't want you to get your hopes up if you and mom can't work things out. I don't want you to get depressed again."

"I was never dep…"

"Yes, you were four months before uncle Puck came to snap you out of it."

Sam could barely remember that like his mind had blocked that part out. "I'm sorry I did that, but your mother and I are…"

"In therapy" Simon finished, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, we are going to try to work out our differences. Then maybe after some...a lot of sessions we can be a family again. Don't you want that"?

"No."

"Simon," Sam gasped shocked at his sons bluntness.

"I'm not sorry, Dad, cause frankly both you and mom can do much better than each other."

"Simon your mother and I love each other."

"So just because you love someone doesn't mean you should be together. Face reality Dad all you and mom do is fight... What makes this time so different."

"You mother and I are working on…"

Simon interrupted, "You can't fix what's totaled Dad. You two going back and forth with each other is sick. Open your eyes you and mom are toxic."

Simon lay in bed groaning as it started up again. He shut his twelve year old eyes tightly trying to blot out the screams and yells of his parents. He moved the pillow over his head trying to block the cries.

But it didn't help.

He shot up when the sound of glass breaking and the faint yet noted sound of a door being slammed. Throwing the covers off he ran and threw open the door to find his mother on her hands and knees picking up the broken vase on the upstairs landing. The vase, that only hours before his father had given her for her birthday.

"Simon, what are you doing up baby," his mother forced a smile as he knelt to help her.

"Couldn't sleep," Simon whispered.

Mercedes sat back on her legs studying her son. "Did... did we wake you"? She asked holding back a sob.

"No, Momma," Simon looked up at her seeing tears in her eyes. "I was already up," he lied, "couldn't sleep cause I have a English test tomorrow."

Mercedes nodded going back to picking up the broken glass. "Fuck," she swore quietly snatching her hand back and putting it into her mouth.

Simon saw blood on jagged edge of the glass getting up he rushed to the bathroom coming back with the first aid kit. His light brown eyes looked up sadly as he held out his hand.

Mercedes returned the sad smile with one of her own as she gave her son access to the wound. "Thank you baby," she whispered. She watched him dab the deep cut with the alcohol swab and put antibiotic cream then a band-aid on it.

Mercedes cupped his face with both hands afterward. "This is not your fault, Simon," she breathed softly before placing a kiss on his forehead.

Simon placed his hands which were already twice the size of hers over his mothers. "I know, Momma."

She sniffed staring at him. "Good," she croaked on the verge of tears again. "Now go get me the broom and dustpan, please."

Simon came back in a few minutes with the cleanup items in hand. "Where's dad"?

Mercedes took the broom shuddering at the question. "He had to leave a business trip".

Simon swatted holding the dustpan. He watched his mom not meet his eyes. Knowing his father probably walked out on her again. He could count off the reasons for him leaving with his fingers. Mom didn't cook dinner so they got fast food instead, result a fight. She didn't clean the kitchen after working a ten hour day, result a fight. Or she didn't do laundry so he'd call her lazy then the clothes wouldn't done for another day result an even bigger fight.

But he could also count off why his mother would drive his father away: nagging him about spending more time with him and his younger brother and sister, result a fight. Or her calling him a deadbeat dad to complaining how he never tells here he loves her result the worst fight he ever experienced. Dad had left for a whole month, living with Uncle Puck.

Simon's mother finished sweeping. "Thank you, Simon, at least I know of one man in this house." She sighed bitterly. "Go to bed, I'll get the rest."

Simon kissed his mother's cheek and went back to his room lying awake thinking for a long time afterwards. Sure his parents fought in fact he could barely remember a time when they did not. But they always made up like now he could hear the faint giggles and groans coming down the hall heading for their master suite. But the fights were getting worse soon the days of peace and bliss in between would become shorter.Simon turned over closing his eyes as sleep took over. Yeah they made up now but it wasn't coming to an end.

"But I…I remember you being the one to tell us you wanted us to work things out…begging actually. Now we are trying to fix it you don't want it." Sam said quietly meeting his son's eyes.

Simon held his gaze. "I also remember you two saying that people change. They do sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worst. But with you and mom it's for the worst instead of being in therapy for bring us back together maybe you should be there to see if you two can live your lives without being in each other's life."

"We can't do that when we have children, Simon, we are always going to be in each other's life. You guys come first. Your mother and I are doing this for you."

"Funny thing cause it looks like you're doing it yourselves."


Sam left the apartment in deep thought. You and mom are toxic, echoed in his mind. Are we toxic? How can we be if both of us are taking steps to better ourselves, to better our family?

Sam sighed as he pulled up and headed into the art gallery. Are we doing this for the right reasons? Yes of course his mind conversation answered. Our family needs to be together to be whole again. He groaned closing his eyes running his hands throw his hair. But at what cost?

"Mr. Sam!" His assistant Sugar Motta came running up to him five inch platform heels. "Mr. Sam, we have a huge problem."

His eyes popped open, "What," Sam mind began to race. Tonight has to be perfect.

"There are two portraits missing from when they delivered everything from your studio." She panicked her large brown eyes made her looked like a nocturnal animal.

Sam cursed loudly, "The studio is less than two blocks away! I could have done it!" He forced himself to calm down. "Okay well we can just get something from the back get me the delivery company on speaker, now." He ordered walking fast through the maze of white walls covered with colorful computer and hand-made designs.

Sugars heels clicked after, "Yes, Mr. Sam." She squeaked as they entered the storage area. Here you go she gave him the blue-tooth.

Sam clipped the head piece into his ear. He didn't have time from this shit. Mercedes was going to be here in a couple of hours and everything single details had to be in order.

He looked through old paintings and photographs he did while they were married. A couple things caught his eye.


Mercedes was shocked to see so many people at the showing. She never knew her ex had this kind of a following. Walking in she was immediately talked to by a tall skinny auburn haired girl.

"Mrs. Evans so glad you came." Sugar Motta greeted her at the door, grabbed her hand shaking it vigorously.

"Uh…it's, Jones," Mercedes corrected with a smile, "But it's nice to meet you Ms..."

"Motta. Sugar Motta I'm Mr. Sam personal assistant," she smiled chirpily.

Mercedes felt the green monster rear its head in the pit of her stomach. She forced a smile as the child reminded her of the slang that ran from her and Sam's master bedroom almost two years ago. She forced the feeling away. Mercedes it's not her, your ex isn't that stupid. Besides you are here to listen not to judge. Save it for the next session.

"Have you seen Sam"? Mercedes asked the forced smile slowly turning into a real one as the monster slowly settled back to slumber.

"Yes" Sugar smiled taking her hand linking it into her arm. "He is just over there making his seventh sale of the night!"

"Seventh"? Mercedes raised both eyebrows in surprise. "But it just started! He actually sel... people actually buy his work"?

"Oh yes Mr. Sam gallery shows are the towns highlight event. He makes up to a hundred to two hundred thousand in one night. He is very popular. All this will be gone by the night. He always sells out."

"I can see," Mercedes whispered blinking as they traveled the maze of walls and people. Mercedes saw red labels that said sold on most of the paintings descriptions. A smile fixed on her face, Evan after thirty years you still amaze me Samuel Evans.

"Mercedes, you made it," Sam beamed bringing her attention from the art to her ex.

"Yes I just admiring your work Sam color me veryimpressed," she smiled back.

"Great let me show you." He grabbed her hand like an eager school boy on Parent's Night. Sam led her back to the front starting at beginning. He explained his art.

The two wandered from viewing to viewing with Sam telling her in great detail how he came up with the idea and the process of making each piece come to life. Sam heart swelled with pride when Mercedes actually appeared to be taking interest in his work. Asking questions, repeating what he said, and even referring back to earlier work he showed her. Mercedes surprised herself at how much fun she was having.

"I must confess, Sam, I never cared much for modern art. I actually despise it with a passion. Have you seen that video of the woman stomping on butter and then had the nerve to call it art." Mercedes scrunched up her face.

Sam laughed at the face she was making. "Nathan showed me the YouTube video and I think it's call performance art."

"It's called waste of some good butter; Paula Deen would have rolled over in her grave."

Sam snorted, "Paula Deen isn't dead though."

Mercedes joined his laughter, "I know, it's the principle of the matter wasting food like that!"

They made their way to the final wall.

"I'm glad you came, Cede," Sam said quietly.

"This was nice, Sam," Mercedes smiled up at him. "I enjoyed it."

"Good I hoped you would," he watched her turn her attention to the last pieces of art.

He always ended every show this way as a symbol of his true love and passion of life. It was nothing much really so of the patrons that knew his work simply walked by others gave a glance or a few seconds of their time before moving on. Sam watched as Mercedes stepped closer to the piece of art, the ones not for sale.

Mercedes released her breath just realizing that she hand been holding it since she saw the reflection of herself. But it wasn't really her more like her thirty years younger at the sixth grade dance dressed in simple yellow dress her hair done like Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Her prince charming was none other than the man that stood behind her present day. She blinked as she remembered it like, yesterday. A small gasp was let out as the small collogue of pictures showing her from the time they met all the way to the birth of their daughter.

She stared at black and white photo of her breast-feeding Brianna. "Do…do…is it always like this"? Mercedes asked as her eyes took in her younger self caring for her daughter.

"I always end each showing with a picture, pictures even paintings of my family." Sam said behind her.

"I really am sorry I didn't come before, Sam" she whispered, her eyes wandering to a picture of her boys smiling in Halloween costumes looking like jack-o-lanterns.

"To be honest Mercedes, I'm still angry that you didn't." Sam took her elbow turning her to face him. "I wanted to share this part of my life with you, but you never wanted to hear about it. So I stopped tell you about them. Besides you and our children this is my passion and…I couldn't even experience it with you."

"I said I was sorry, Sam. But you knew I was never into this stuff in the first place. And wanting me to coming to these things was out of the question."

"You could have come to support me. I've had over a fifty of these things and still my wife never came a single one."

"I'm here now!" Mercedes cried. She turned away from him when a few patrons cast disturbing glances their way.

Sam shrugged nonchalantly, "You're not my wife, you divorced me remember. It would have been nicer if I had shared this part of my life with my wife, just one time!"

"I'm not going to get in this with you if all you can do is throw my dirty laundry in my face, Samuel Evans, when your stain won't ever come out." Mercedes hissed turning back to him.

"The laundry has to washed and aired out sometime time, Mercedes!"

"Well unless you want me to cause a scene. I suggest you put the fucking cycle on pause." She turned on her heel and started to walk away, only to be grabbed and pulled into a back room. "What are you doing"? Sam had her pressed against a far wall. His plate-size hand on her stomach held her pinned in place.

"Taking Kincaid's advice, we are going to talk this out, Mercedes. I'm going to go…" Sam lowered his face to hers.

"Now"?

"Yes now. Remember Kincaid told you to shut up and let me finish what I have to…"

"She didn't not tell me to shut up, Sam. You are twisting words to get your way!" She gapped at him

"Maybe not but she told you not to interrupt and seeing you have a problem keeping that tongue of yours still…" Sam moving with his other hand took his index and thumb reached into her open mouth and held her tongue still.

Mercedes started flailing against him. Sam removed his hand at her stomach and pinned her with his body. "Shocking the first time I've heard to silence from you and you weren't sleeping," he chuckled, gazing down at her. The statement cost him a knee to his middle section. But knowing her almost his whole life he anticipated the moved and dogged it in time.

"Who knew this was all I had to do to get a word in with you." Sam laughed, he stopped as her eyes narrowed and a low growl came from her throat. "Look Mercedes, I know you don't like what I do but it doesn't mean you can support me." He watched her fix her eyes on something behind him. "You can't even take what I have to say as important even now!" Sam let her go, taking a few steps back. "Well, what do you have to say"?

Mercedes straighten out her dress and hair but did not say a word.

"Seriously Mercedes the silent treatment, are you fucking five now"?

Mercedes sucked in her cheeks to keep her remarks to herself. She moved to sit on a discarded stool.

"Fine! Two can play this game," Sam glared at her before walking out back into gallery.

Sam watched the back door wait for her to come out. Thirty minutes past then an hour and finally people were starting to leave. He had sold most of his work making his biggest profit ever. He frowned Mercedes still hadn't come out. He escorted the rest of the patrons out then closed up the shop. The room has no back door so she still had to be inside there he thought as he opened the door. He found her looking through his unsold work from galleries past. "Mercedes"?

"I'm…I'm trying to understand, Sam, okay…just…just give me a chance," she whispered.

Sam shoved his hand into his pockets. "I gave you plenty of chances, Mercedes." He immediately regretted saying it as her defense went up.

"Well it's late," Mercedes turned to leave.

"So I did this one right after Simon was born. I used ink and watercolor as my mediums," Sam started walking up taking the painting in his hands. Glancing over he watched her stop and turn back around to view what he was talking about. "If you look closely you can see the ultra-sound picture of him."

"I saw that…it quite creative."

"I also did this with Nate and Bree Bree but they are back at the studio. Would you like to see them"? Sam watched her nod. Taking the Simon painting, the two headed out.

The drive over was short and quiet. Sam raised the gate of the loft's elevator and led the way in. The open floor plan made the space feel bigger than it was. Mercedes spotted and made her way over to Nate and Brianna sonogram portraits. Sam followed her setting the Simon one down next to the rest.

"Are you hungry"? He asked heading for the make-shift kitchen.

"I'll just stop and get something on the way home, thanks though." She couldn't help but smile at the paintings of their children before they were born. Psychically done in each of the now children's favorite color.

"Come on, Mercedes I can make a mean bowl of Trix," he called over his shoulder at her as he reached for bowls in the cabinet.

Mercedes chuckled. "Okay just don't put extra sugar in mine. So how long have you been working with Sugar Motta"?

"Are you jealous, Cede"? Sam asked setting the bowls on the table. "I put ice in your milk, four cubes right"?

"Yup thank you. And no I'm not jealous just curious." Mercedes said sitting down. "She is very pretty." Sam shrugged. "Come on Sam, I'm not going to judge you if say you're attracted to her," Mercedes took a bite of cereal.

Sam pushed the extra sugar coated cereal around in his bowl. "Why do you do this, Mercedes"?

"What"? Mercedes asked with a half full mouth of the colorful breakfast delight.

"Acting like this making something out of nothing…" He fixed his eyes on her.

Mercedes chewed and swallowed. "I am not; I just asked a question. It's you taking what I say and twisting…"

Sam's spoon clattered into the bowl. "Don't make me take your tongue again, Mercedes." He did pinching motions with his index and thumb. "I was still talking."

Mercedes sucked in her cheeks pushing the bowl of cereal away. She sat back and silently gestured to him to continue before crossing her arms over her chest.

Sam pushed the bowl back to her. "Eat please," he sighed at her stubbornness. "If having Sugar as my assistant bothers you, I'll fire her."

"No don't," Mercedes sighed. "She…she looks like she is very good at her job, whatever that is, plus you already trained her."

"Her job is to run my gallery when I'm at my job. The art shows and things are just a hobby."

"Well, you make a lot of money for just a hobby," Mercedes mumbled before diving back into the bowl of cereal.

Sam chuckled. "I make enough. Sugar told you, huh"? Mercedes nodded her head. "Well I just like the feeling of knowing if I wanted to quit my job I would be financially stable to take care of my children."

"Do you hate your job Sam"?

"It's not what I thought it would be, but I get to use my design skills. Like the video I'm working on is a revamp of Pepsi add with Michael Jackson."

"Did you do your impression of him to get the gig"?

"Well I would say doing MJ voice did get my foot in the door plus some sweet moves helped too," Sam grinned mimicking Michael Jackson's voice.

Mercedes laughed. "I have to admit I do miss you waking me up with Stewie Griffin's 'You vile Woman, whip them out so I can have breakfast.'" She tried her best at the impression of her ex but wasn't quite there.

Sam joined her laughter. "You never let me suck on your breasts in the morning."

"That's because they were usually sore from you grabbing a squeezing them during the night when you were asleep, Sam. That shit hurt you know." She giggled teasing him.

Sam placed a hand over hers. "I miss this laughing with you."

"Yeah," she smiled shyly looking down at their hands. "I miss it too." She turned her hand over and laced her fingers through his.

Sam leaned over placing his forehead against hers. "Why can't we be like this all the time"?

"It could be," she whispered, "but we fight more than the average couple."

"But why though, even before I cheated we were always at each other's throats," he sighed gazing into her soft brown eyes.

"Maybe it's our way of showing our love for each other, Sam." She chuckled.

Sam gave her a small grin, "I'd rather make love to you than fight, Mercedes."

Mercedes rolled her eyes as her mind went back, "We did Sam, remember after we fought we always had sex."

"Great sex." He gave her a smug look.

"Yeah, but we never talked it out. We just swept it under the 'rug of great sex'. It 'cause us to build up resentment for each other."

"Causing me to bury my feelings…"

"…And act out in the worst way possible against me," she finished softly.

Sam's jaw clenched mournfully, "I should have never done it in our bed. I truly am sorry, Mercedes."

"I know," she gave him a weak smile, "I probably deserved it the way I treated you."

"No one, not even the way you treated me would you," he cupped her cheek, "deserved that Mercedes."

Mercedes kissed his cheek. "Thank you Sam. I…I should head home." She whispered pulling away.

"Yeah me too," he sighed, reluctantly untangling their fingers.

Mercedes took the half eaten bowls to the sink.

"Do you think if we had talked out our problems the make-up sex would have been even more amazing"? Sam asked hoisting himself on the counter watching her.

Mercedes snorted. "Sam really," she rolled her eyes at him as she scrapped the bowls into the garbage disposal.

Sam smiled taking the stray curl from behind her ear, twirling it around his finger, "I'm serious. It wouldn't have been angry sex which was all we seemed to do."

Mercedes squirted soap into a dish rag and began to wash the bowls, "Yeah getting fucked in the ass was such a picnic for me," she sucked in her cheeks eyeing him through her lashes.

His face dropped as did his hand, "If you didn't like it, why didn't you tell me so I could stop." The sudden realization of something he always did to her hurt her. And the fact she put up with it because of wifely duties scared him. What other things do I do hurts her this way.

Mercedes sighed tucking her curls back behind her ear, "You don't like condoms, Sam, and it was the only way for me not to get pregnant since you always had to cum inside."

"Where the fuck else am I supposed to cum Woman!" His eyes widened as he exclaimed.

She scoffed rinsing the suds off the dishes, "In a tissue or just pull out or something. I don't know Sam."

"Ain't gonna happen, it ain't cum in tissue, or on you, it's comeinside." He grinned, waggling his eyebrows, at his word play.

"Dear god, let me get away from you 'cause I actually found that funny," Mercedes chuckled putting the dishes in the drainer making her way to the door.

"Let me go too unless you want to try out our theory," Sam smirked jumping down from the counter and following her.

"What theory," Mercedes raised an eyebrow as she glancing back at him.

"That make-up sex would be better if we talked out our problem first before doing it." He smiled, "We already talked it out."

Mercedes bit her bottom lip as her eyes went to his. Shaking her head the thoughts of being with him again went out with it. "We need a fresh start, Sam," she said not meeting his eyes. "We can't hop in bed assuming sex is going to fix it."

"I know we tried that. But that's not what I'm asking. I'm asking for a no strings we can forget about it like nothing happened cause believe it or not Mercedes my body aches for you."

"Meaning you're horny," she scoffed rolling her eyes, "I can't believe you almost talked me into having sex."

"I'm not horny Mercedes. Horny means you'll fuck anything or anyone to get you off. I only want you." He stepped forward reaching for her. If he could just touch her he knew she would be willing. "I'll wear a condom of you want."

Mercedes backed away feeling the tips of his fingers brush her arm. "I'm sorry Sam." She whispered as she slowly shook her head again.

Sam let out a heavy sigh. "It's okay Mercedes it was a long shot any way right he forced a smile. Let me drive you back to your car."


Mercedes watched the time of 12:30 change to 12:31 as she lay in bed that night. She couldn't shake the feeling of just his fingertips brushing against her. Goosepimps had appeared when he touched her and they were still there five hours later. God only knew how much she wanted to say yes to test out his ridiculous theory. Chewing on her bottom lip she got up and put on her robe and slippers.

Mercedes enter his room, locking the door quietly behind her. The soft glow of the clock radio outlined his still muscular form and led her over. She sat on the bed.

Sam stirred, "Tinu, go sleep in your own bed," he groaned wearily.

"But what about our theory, Sam," Mercedes whispered slyly.

Sam shot bone straight up fumbling with the lamp on the night stand. "Mercedes! What...!"

"Hush Sam," Mercedes smiled moving to straddle his lap, "Do you want to try out your theory or not"?

Sam wrapped one arm around her waist bringing her closer as he cupped her chin. "Yes, but only if you're sure, Mercedes no pressure," whispering as he thumbed her lips making them part.

"I'm sure, Sam," she whispered back lowering her head as he moved his upward. She felt him moved his hands up and down her back as she cupped his face drawing him deeper into the kiss. She nibbled his top lip hearing a low groan escape from his throat.

Sam backed out of the touch, his lips wandered across her chin and jawline making their way to his spot. "God I miss holding you, Mercedes." He nipped her sensitive skin behind her ear making his mark visible again. Hearing her whimper he traced it loving until her whimpers turned into soft moans as she leaned into his kisses. Sam repeated himself behind the other ear, before Mercedes placed a hand to his chest backing away. "Cede"? Sam whispered his hands dropping to his side. I knew this was too good to be true.

Mercedes took a breath and started to untie her robe. Shrugging it off as Sam hands began caressing her thighs. Their eyes met before Sam took off his tank. Mercedes gave him a small smile; her fingers tracing the outline of his collarbone before diving into the cavern between his pecs. Mercedes scooted back lowering her head as her lips followed the trail her fingers left.

Sam hissed as she flicked her tongue over his nipple. "I like your nightshirt. Ro…Roger is always superior to Stewie." He sighed feeling her soft touch make its way down his happy trail.

Mercedes' lips wandered to the other nipple. "You'd probably like it better if it was off, huh."

"There's no rush."

Mercedes chuckled sitting up to look at him. "Sam, don't play like you don't wanna rip…"

In three seconds, Sam took off her nightshirt and had flipped her onto her back, his weight pressing her deep into the firm mattress. "I love you, Mercedes." He breathed before ramming his mouth to hers as he maneuvered himself between her legs.

Mercedes broke the kiss gasping for air. She felt Sam's lips roam south as his hands cupped her breasts. She let out a sigh of pleasure as his mouth captured her right nipple. Her legs opened wider at the force of him grinding himself against her. She felt herself start to leak and realized Sam must have felt it too as he went to the twin nipple and a hand slipped into her underwear.

He released a loud groan as he slipped a finger inside of her plumping her a few times before slipping out to taste her. Sam sucked her essence off his finger; backed away sitting back on his legs. He hooked his fingers on the band of her panties, their eyes met again; Sam slowly pulled butterfly print garments off, neither of them breaking their gaze. He moved off the bed and into the bathroom without a word.

Mercedes sat up on her forearms confused. "Uh, Sam…"

"Be right there, you can get started if you want!"

Mercedes chuckled rolling her eyes as her hand moved in between her legs.

Sam rummaged through the vanity drawers. "Damnit is has to be here!" he cursed softly as he sucked on the Fisherman's Friend he popped in his mouth. Running the candy over the back of his teeth he opened the last fated drawer. On top was a square golden wrap.

Mercedes opened her eyes to find Sam's lopsided grin smiling down at her. "Don't mind me, I like to watch," he smirked.

Mercedes burst out laughing, "You took you long enough." She offered him her finger which he licked greedily. "I still need help though," she smiled slyly.

Sam moved back between her legs. Laying down he spread her lips wide he dove in.

Mercedes bit her lip as her eyelids fluttered. God I missed his mouth. She gasped loudly as the tip of her clit was nipped then sucked hard. A slow creeping heat made her juices flow freer. "Sam…what…what is that," she cries out when he stuck two fingers inside her.

"My fingers," Sam mumbled as they picked up speed.

"Not that," she flicked his forehead which made him let go of her clit that felt like it was on fire. "What are you doing with your mouth"?

Sam stuck the cough drop between his teeth showing it to her before returning it to his mouth. "Fisherman's Friend, Mercedes. You like"? he lowered his head, replacing his fingers with his mouth.

Mercedes gripped the sheets, "Yes," she croaked. She ran her fingers threw his locks before pressing his head closer to her. She heard him groan as his tongue flicked in and out of her. His fingers of one hand giving her a thrust when his tongue came out the other rubbing her clit with such friction Mercedes was sure between that and the Fisherman's Friend he pussy was on fire. Squeezing his head between her thighs she came a few minutes later.

He pinched her butt twice for her to let him go. "You wanna taste," Sam smirked as he rose up over her. Mercedes nodded panting, tiny beads of sweat appeared at her temples. Sam cupped her face with his hand while wrapping his arm around her waist, gathering her to him. "You make me so happy, Mercedes," he whispered softly stroking the apple of her cheeks. "You know that right"? Sam eyes blinked back tears as he searched hers.

"I know, Sam." Mercedes said simply.

He leaned in for a kiss, feeling her hand guide his sheaved member inside her. Sam's hand slipped from her face fisting the pillow she laid her head on. He groaned trying to keep still as Mercedes thrusts against him. If he moved he was going to come and her menthol heated pussy was taking him over sooner than he ever expected.

"Sam, are you going to make me do all the work," Mercedes asked looking up at him.

"No," he snapped groaning gripping the sheets. Sweat ran down the sides of his face as he struggled to keep from loosing his load too soon. "I just want to take my time." He lied. He thrust back meeting hers. Sam wrapped her legs around his waist. His strokes finally taking over and her cries began.

Low at first then louder and louder with each spot hitting thrust, Mercedes gasped closing her eyes as she clung to him. She felt his gentle kisses being placed all over her body as his hands went to her hips grinding her hard against him. Her hips met him at every stroke making his groan answer her moan. Mercedes mouth searched for his, her small hand gripping his face as they shared a passionate kiss. Sam was on the edge, he fisted some of her hair as his teeth scraped her bottom lip when she dared to close her mouth to him.

Mercedes felt her release coming and her back began to arch automatically. Sam growled as Mercedes' walls squeezed his jerking member of every last seed. Placing his face in the crook of her neck he collapsed on top of her where she held him. Minutes past before he rolled off her and sat up. Sam looked at the seed filled condom; some had seeped out the top. He took is off, tossing it into the bin and wiped his member clean before rejoining Mercedes on the bed.

"The verdict, Judge," he smiled pulling her close.

"It was really good," Mercedes laughed, "especially that friend of yours."

Sam pecked her bruised and swollen lips. "Yeah I saw it on some British show, decided to check it out," his hands doing a circular motion over her backside gathering her, if even possible, closer to his chest, not wanting to let her go.

Reading his mind, Mercedes cupped his cheek, stroking it lovingly. "I won't leave until you're asleep, Sam." She smiled sadly.

"Then I'm not going to sleep," he placed his head against her forehead. "And you can't leave this bed." He watched her chuckle softly, closing her eyes. "I know we can't go back to the beginning, but can we start from now, can't we…" he let out a soft whimper when she shook her head.

"We still need a lot of work, Sam…" Mercedes whispered keeping her eyes closed.

Sam pulled her closer, "I know but…but we love each other that's all that matters right…so move in with me and the kids and we can still go to therapy…" He stopped when Mercedes place a small finger over his lips.

Mercedes opened her eyes gazing deeply into his, "Please don't ruin this moment, Sam. Just let it be, what it is, okay." She closed her eyes again and wrapped her arms around his waist and placed her head underneath his chin.

Sam chewed on his bottom lip thinking for a few moments, "What is it then…this"? He asked backing out of her embrace. "Was this…" he voice cracked. "Was I just a fuck"?

Mercedes glanced away before answering, "Sam, we were having fun testing out your theory. Don't make this about love…"

"It is about love, it's always about love, Mercedes 'cause I just made love to you. I love you and…" Sam sat up, "you used me."

Mercedes sat up next to him, "No, Sam just please," she begged him pulling at his arm to lay with her again. "don't make this a big deal. We both got caught up in the moment. We missed each other, yes, I'll give you that." She cupped his cheek as if pleading for him to understand. "But this can't mean what you want it to mean, Sam. We are not at that point yet."

Sam shuddered closing his eyes on the verge of tears. "It going to be a long time before we get to that point, huh." He didn't need to open his eyes to know his ex was nodding. "Can…can…can I just hold you and pretend we are there."

Mercedes sucked in her breath as a single tear fell over the bridge of his nose. "Of course, Sam," she whispered moving back against him and wrapping her arms around his waist; rubbing his back as he trembled slightly. She felt him gather her closer to his body burying his face in her hair; she too wishing that they were at that point as well.

Thirty minutes later Sam was sound asleep. Mercedes slipped her house shoes on before kissing Sam's brow. She left the room tying the robe around her, Mercedes made her way through the darken apartment. The foyer/hall light was on as she turned the corner and came face to face with Simon.

"Simon, baby what are you doing up"? Mercedes gasped as her son's presence startled her.

"Better question, Mom, why are you here," the teen replied.

Mercedes cocked her head to the side. "You want to try that tone again." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Dad just got out of a four month depression, Mom, because you couldn't accept his flowers. Now this," he pointed to her dress. "I heard you guys; it's not fair to do this to him."

"Simon, what we do is none of your…"

"Yes, it is when you are the one taking care of your siblings, washing clothes, cooking and cleaning, helping with homework, because your dad can't get out of the funk your mother caused." Simon whispered harshly; his light brown eyes full of tears.

Mercedes stepped forward to embrace her eldest, Simon hastily backed away. "Simon, why didn't you call me or tell me when you came for your visits," she asked lowering her arms defeated.

Simon shook his head, "Someone has to be the man of the house, Mom; you taught me that." He headed back to his room leaving Mercedes alone with her thoughts on why she came in the first place.