Standard Disclaimer: None of this story originally Wild Night by Mari Carr or Glee situations and characters belong to me. Just three more chapters to go. You know what makes me smile...reading your reviews. I just finished reading the reviews from the last chapter and was waiting on my delivery of groceries for my holiday feast. Happy Reading! Oh and in case you didn't know where the last chapter was leading Smut Alert!

Chapter Eight

Sam grasped her waist, pushing her back toward the sink as Mercedes wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her hands in his hair.

He hadn't kissed her since the blackout, but damn if he hadn't spent every single night since Thursday dreaming about doing this again. He pressed her lips open, dipping his tongue inside her mouth for a taste.

Barbecue sauce and ranch dip.

Spicy, the perfect combination. She was delicious, and her plump lips were soft despite the definite urgency of the kiss. She wanted this as much as he did.

Sam reached for the bottom of her jersey, only breaking the kiss for the three seconds it took to pull the thing over her head. He tossed it to the floor.

Mercedes fisted his T-shirt in her hands, pulling him back to her, kissing him again.

Sam slipped his hands behind her back and, with practiced fingers, unfastened her bra with one quick flip.

"I'm going to ignore how unbelievably good you are at doing that," she murmured, her lips still on his.

Sam chuckled, even as they continued to kiss. He drew the bra straps over her shoulders, tugging the lacy material away and dropping it to the floor with her jersey.

He lifted her so that she was sitting on the sink, her thick thighs outstretched. He stepped between them, certain she could feel his erection pressing against her, even through the denim of both their jeans.

Part of him kept waiting for her to come to her senses, to stop him. He would not blame her if she did.

When Mercedes wrapped her legs around his hips and pressed her crotch more firmly against his, it occurred to Sam that she had the same fear.

Afraid he'd call a halt to their sexual shenanigans.

No. Frigging. Way. Not. Today. Not. Ever.

They kissed for several more minutes, their hands exploring, stroking, caressing. He'd thought that Halloween night was hot, the way he'd had to rely on only his sense of touch, blinded by the darkness from the blackout.

Seeing her was a million times better. She was sexy, curvy. Her skin was a beautiful chocolate brown that covered her face, her arms, chest, and belly. He couldn't wait to see her naked, his chocolate pocket size Venus created especially for him to adore and devour every inch of her.

He played with her breasts, squeezing them, pinching her nipples, loving the way she gasped and moaned and arched her back, inviting him to take more.

"I love your big and juicy breasts, Cedes. Lord Almighty. They're perfect."

He felt her smile, rather than saw it, when he immediately resumed the kiss.

Mercedes's hands had drifted beneath his T-shirt, her thumbs toying with his nipples, her nails lightly scratching his chest, playing with the smattering of hair there.

He released one of her breasts, reaching up to take a handful of her hair in his hand. And stopping when she shook her head telling him that was a hard no. Instead he put his mouth on her nipples sucking on them to distract his hands from doing what they really wanted to do.

He'd heard those same sounds from her during the blackout, and now he wondered how he hadn't realized it was her. Her groans, her sighs, her hisses when…

He grinned when she gave him one of those sharp sounds as he pulled her to him harder, sucking her nipple and playing with the other one until she was backing away from him. He stopped and then tilted her head back so he could kiss those luscious lips again.

Mercedes, the gorgeous, impatient woman, took them to the next level, her fingers flipping open the button on his jeans with ease.

"I'm going to ignore how good you are at that," he murmured, repeating her words.

She pulled away from him, laughing softly as she tugged his zipper down. Reaching into his open jeans, she wrapped her hand around his cock.

"Going commando, I see."

He winked, loving her easy smile and the way she rolled her eyes at him.

Mercedes had probably rolled her eyes a million times in his presence, typically in annoyance over something he said that she found offensive or arrogant. He never meant any of the shit he said to her. The devil in him had always enjoyed provoking that response from her, loved tweaking her, teasing her, giving her crap.

Never, not once, had it made him this hard, made him lose his mind with desire, with need.

This time Sam was going to do everything right considering he messed up big time last time.

"Christ, Mercedes." Her impatience rubbed off on him as he took one small step back, drawing her off the sink so he could divest her of her jeans. She helped him, shimmying them and her panties down her hips, before she kicked them off with her shoes.

He opened the drawer next to her, rummaging to the back, finding the stash of condoms he and Spencer kept there "for emergencies." He just hoped Spencer had replenished them with newer ones because he hadn't had need of them for over two years.

Mercedes had shoved his jeans to his knees and resumed her place on the sink, using her legs to draw him back to her.

Their time during the blackout had been hours of foreplay and fondling, but it was clear neither of them was interested in a repeat performance of that. At least not this time.

Sam had spent too many nights alone with just his hand since then.

He opened the condom wrapper and started to pull it on. He'd just covered the tip when Mercedes stopped him.

He looked up, catching her tentative—confused?—gaze.

He shook his head. "That's a lot longer conversation we are going to have to have later, Cedes."

Her hand dropped away as she nodded hastily. "You're right. It is."

"And we're going to have it." Sam finished rolling on the condom, wondering if she'd stop him now. If the magic had somehow been broken.

He should have known better.

Mercedes was indomitable, unshakable. She was simply incredible.

She guided his cock to the opening of her body.

He wiggled his thumb over her clit. She was wet. So unbelievably hot and wet.

Her eyes drifted closed when he pressed the head inside.

"No," he said, more loudly than he'd intended.

Her eyes flew open, met his green orbs in shock.

"Don't close your eyes. I want to make sure you know exactly who you're with this time."

She laughed, just one brief huff of amusement, before he thrust in. Straight to the hilt.

Mercedes threw her head back as they found their rhythm in seconds. She added her own strength to his, using her legs to pull him back inside her every time he retreated.

They came together in a rush as he moved in and out of her in an almost brutal pace as if he was possessed.

Mercedes drove him on, demanding more. Always more.

"Wait!" she cried out when he completely withdrew.

"No. Turn around." He already had her halfway to the position he wanted before he finished speaking, bending her over the sink, pulling her ass toward him.

He shoved back in hard and fast, loving the way she cried out, "Yes. Sam! Yes!"

Sam watched her face in the reflection of the mirror, her gaze locked on his as well.

Over and over, he took her. It was hard and fast and practically primal. When her moans turned into screams, he knew she was close.

Sam slowed his thrusts as he bent over her back, his lips by her ear. "Don't hold back, Mercedes. I want to watch you come."

She started to nod, but he wasn't finished.

"But just know I'm not stopping. I'm gonna keep on taking you all the way through your orgasm. I'm going to make sure it lasts, going to draw it out until it hurts, until you're begging me to stop."

Mercedes shuddered, though the response couldn't be mistaken as anything other than pure hunger. "Please," she whispered.

"Then I'm going to make you do it all over again when I come."

She was gasping for air, and Sam could swear he almost saw her trying to prepare herself, trying to get ready for exactly what he promised.

He couldn't hold back his grin, couldn't keep it from growing when she narrowed her eyes. He was still moving inside her, but it was too slow to push her over.

Teasing her was second nature to him, something he'd always loved, but now, bringing it here, to this…

His eyes had been opened. And he'd never seen anything more perfect.

"All talk, Sam?" she asked breathlessly. "No action?"

He chuckled, making sure to infuse a warning in the sound. "Always poking the bear, Cedes."

"At least someone in this room is getting pok—"

That was as much of the joke as she managed. Sam slammed into her hard; his fingers gripping her hips so tight, he knew she was going to bruise. He didn't want to hurt her. He had to be more careful. She was his and would be only his forever.

Maybe if he pleasured her so good then she would realize who he was going to be to her.

She didn't know now.

But she would soon.

Mercedes's cries grew louder and louder, and he hoped Spencer and Rory stayed down in the pub, ordered a second round—maybe even a third.

Her orgasm struck hard, and Sam clenched his teeth so tightly, he worried about breaking his own jaw.

"Jesus." He'd told her what he was going to do, but there was nothing like the feeling of Mercedes coming on his dick, her orgasm squeezing him so tight, it wasn't just her who was feeling the pleasure-pain.

Mercedes trembled as her orgasm started to wane, her head falling forward, hiding her face.

He reached up and grasped her head gently back up so he could see her eyes reflected in the mirror once more.

Sam was hoping she wouldn't resist him. Not that he needed to worry. Mercedes's back arched into the strong grip and— him—she came again. This one was even harder than the first.

She called out his name, the single syllable broken, beautiful. "Sam!"

This time, he slowed his pace. It was the only way he could regain control, and could hold off his own imminent climax.

Mercedes shuddered and shook as the last vestiges of her orgasm faded. He watched her face through it all and knew he'd never see anything more beautiful.

Releasing her he shocked her by what he did next. Letting her go and then he pulled out.

Mercedes lifted her head, her gaze connecting with his in the mirror.

He wrapped his hand around her elbow, drawing her up and turning her to face him again. Lifting her to her original position, he guided his cock back to her center.

Sam kissed her as he slowly pressed back inside.

Mercedes broke the kiss, seeking air. "I just…" She shivered. "I don't think I can do that—"

"Shhh. Just one more, Cedes. Please baby just one more with me."

This time, he built his pace slowly, giving her time to recover, to let the sensations spark again. When he felt her hips lift to meet him, he knew she was back. She was ready.

He cupped her ass, pulling her closer to the edge of the sink. Then he gave in to his baser desires once more—jackrabbiting into her, claiming her, possessing her. Making love to her.

Mercedes's hands gripped his hips, his incredible, demanding woman, jerking him to her as if she simply couldn't get enough. Never enough.

She flew over the edge, and he followed her, locking his knees, fighting to remain upright as lightning struck.

He came harder than he thought possible, her body milking every single drop of jizz from him.

For several minutes—or maybe hours—they remained there, connected, struggling to breathe, fighting to still their racing hearts.

Finally, he found the strength to push away, to pull out of her. He threw the condom away, then reached for a washcloth as Mercedes sat, motionless, watching him.

He wet the cloth with warm water and ran it along her slit gently before cleaning himself as well.

Sam watched as the fog of lust lifted and the awareness he'd been waiting for arrived.

"That was," she paused, then forged on, "a mistake."

It wasn't. But Sam knew she wouldn't accept that from him. Not yet. So he kept quiet.

She didn't seem to notice his silence as she continued, "We can't do that again."

He let his cocky grin tell her exactly what he thought of that assertion, and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm being serious, Sam."

"I know you are."

"I'm sorry I tried to…stop you from…putting on the condom."

He wasn't used to seeing Mercedes as anything other than one hundred percent confident, so it was obvious he'd drawn her way beyond her comfort zone. "It's okay. I think we should talk about it."

She considered that, then shook her head. "No. There are mistakes, and then there are mistakes."

Sam was going to love every second of that particular mistake, but unlike him, his lovely girl hadn't opened her eyes, hadn't let herself see what was happening here.

"That was…" She blew out a long breath, and he knew she didn't want to admit what she was about to say. However, Mercedes never shied away from the truth. Even if it meant being nice to him. "mind-blowingly incredible."

He laughed. "How much did that hurt to say?"

"A lot, so don't expect me to repeat it."

He gave her a soft kiss on the cheek and then, because he couldn't resist, he enveloped her in a big hug. One she sank into without reservation.

Sam knew her mouth was saying no to them, but the hug that she returned meant one word for his plan to wear her down: progress.

Mercedes glanced down at her hand linked with Sam's as they walked along the quiet city streets. It wasn't too late, only a little past nine, but the Evans' Friendsgiving had ended earlier than usual.

She could only assume everyone was still recovering from Halloween two weeks earlier.

"I was surprised to see Matt there," Sam observed.

"Yeah. Me too. I know Stacey and Marissa invite him to pretty much everything; he is Mike's best friend, but the guy is a serious workaholic, so…"

"Guess that made Stacey happy. She's got a hell of a crush on the man."

Mercedes grinned. "She wouldn't be happy to hear you refer to it as a crush."

"The guy is ten years older than her, and her boss. She's his babysitter, too, for Christ's sake. That makes it a crush."

Mercedes shook her head. "I don't believe that any of that matters to Stace. She's got it bad for him."

"Which is a shame, because I don't think Matt can see beyond the end of the cell phone that's constantly in his hand long enough to realize it."

She stopped walking. "You're joking, right? Were you not paying attention tonight?"

Sam gave her a confused look. "Paying attention to what?"

"Matt was looking at Stacey like she was a slice of his favorite cake. And he wasn't sharing it with anybody."

She instantly regretted her comment when Sam scowled. She dropped his hand and raised her own quickly. "Oh no you don't."

"Don't what?" he asked, his tone a bit darker than it had been before.

"You and Stevie and those Neanderthal cousins of yours don't need to start circling the wagons around sweet, innocent Stacey. She's fine."

And with that statement, she'd gone from sticking her foot in her mouth to swallowing all the way up to her knee.

"Innocent?" Sam sounded more curious.

She waved him off and started walking again. "Forget it."

"She's still a virgin, isn't she? I have to admit, I always wondered. She's never had a sleepover with a guy at the apartment, and she's lived there nearly three years."

"We're not talking about that. I'm sure there's a girlfriend code, and I'd rattle off the legal number to you if I knew it."

Sam chuckled, then mercifully let the subject drop.

"Spence and Rory weren't their usual loud, boisterous, frat-boy selves," she observed, determined to make sure Sam dropped the Stacey conversation for good.

"Yeah. I noticed. They've been quiet the last couple of days. Rory met a girl, and I think he really likes her. I get the impression Spence is jealous."

"He likes her too?"

Sam had reclaimed her hand, but this time, it was he who pulled them to a stop. "I think Spence is jealous of the girl."

Mercedes let that sink in. "Spence and Rory? No. They're just friends, foster brothers even."

"You don't live in the Evans Dorm full-time like I do. I've seen some things that make me think the 'just friends' line has been crossed a few times. I mean, it's not like they're a couple, but…I don't know. There's something there."

"Wow. I had no idea. They both go out on dates with girls all the time."

"Yeah, but look at how they were raised. Rory was fostered when he was sixteen years old by Aunt Lauren who is not married, and has been known to be in an open partnership not marriage with Spence's dad because Spence's dad is bisexual, and she doesn't want him to leave her for a man when he wants a man's loving. If Spence's said it once, he's said it a million times. He wants an arrangement just like his parents have."

"And he's picked Rory as his male booty call when he wants a dick instead of a chick?"

"Rory's been a part of that family since he was sixteen years old. Maybe he wants the same thing."

"Maybe, but…" Mercedes wasn't as convinced.

"But what?" Sam prompted.

"I've had a few conversations with just Rory, and I don't get the impression he wants that at all."

She and Sam started walking again, both of them quiet. She suspected Sam was searching his memory to see if this was the case between his cousins. Unlike Stevie who could read people instantly and knew exactly what to say which made him great at his job bartending at the pub, Sam was not skilled at saying the right things at the right time. He was more abrupt and sometimes could be considered insensitive. Stevie was the opposite. Stevie...

The second she thought his name, she said it aloud—proving she hadn't changed much from when she was younger.

"Stevie."

Sam sighed. "Yeah."

Those two words proved just how in synch Sam and Mercedes were when it came to Steven Dwight Evans.

"We knew this was coming, Cedes."

She nodded. She had. Stevie had been very quiet at Friendsgiving, withdrawn. Too many times, she'd caught sight of that vacant, faraway look in his eyes. The one he always managed to shutter away and hide when he realized she was looking at him. Then he'd paste on a fake smile that didn't fool her one bit and give her a wink she was certain he thought set her mind at ease.

It didn't.

"I miss De'Wanda, too," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. She hadn't said those words—hadn't even allowed herself to think them—in a long time, because the second she did, a heavy weight settled on her chest and she usually wound up crying herself to sleep.

"So do I. I miss my brother too," Sam confessed.

Mercedes turned her face away, trying to wipe away a tear without him seeing. He didn't let her get away with it. Using the grip on her hand, he tugged her toward him, wrapping her up in a big, strong hug, giving her a second to get herself under control.

They didn't say anything more. The past two years, they'd said it all…a thousand times. Talked until they were hoarse, trying to figure out how to heal Stevie's shattered heart. It was the only time the two of them waved the white flag and called a truce, speaking about something that genuinely worried them both, though Mercedes hadn't realized that was what they were doing until just now. The moments when they talked about Stevie were the only times she'd felt some level of solidarity with Sam prior to last month.

And this was the first time Sam had ever hugged her after one of these talks, ever offered comfort through touch rather than words.

His silent strength soaked in deeper than anything he could ever say. She sucked in several deep breaths, squeezing him tighter for a second before releasing him. She looked up, giving him a weak attempt at a smile. "Thanks. I needed that."

He cupped her cheek affectionately, giving her the same sad smile. "So did I."

Then he bent lower and kissed her. It was a soft, sweet, gentle touch of his lips against hers, but it packed a punch. It didn't last more than a few seconds, then he pressed his forehead to hers and gave her his signature cocky-ass grin. "We're here."

Mercedes straightened and looked over her shoulder at her apartment building. "You know, you didn't have to walk me home. I could have grabbed an Uber."

"I needed to walk off that dinner. We haven't even hit Thanksgiving dinner, and I've already packed on a couple extra pounds."

Sam was built like most of the men in his family, tall with broad shoulders. Sam's mom, Mary, referred to their dad, Dwight, as Everest, and his sons had definitely acquired that same mountainous physique. Not that any of it was fat. Sam and Stevie both belonged to a gym, and it ensured they were made of pure muscle.

Mercedes released his hand. "Well, I guess I should—"

"Invite me up." There wasn't a hint of request in his words, so of course, it tweaked Mercedes just enough that she'd deny herself what she wanted—him in her bed tonight—just to put the man in his place.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Though the two of them had gone out for dinner a couple of nights this week, they'd met at the restaurants and managed to not talk about their blackout romp…or that scorching hot-as-hell interlude in the bathroom last Sunday.

"Cedes," he said, his gaze heated…hungry. "Invite me up. Now."

"You know," she said, turning away from him, not surprised when he followed, "it would serve you right if I sent you packing, you cocky bastard."

"But then you'd suffer too."

She glanced over her shoulder to make sure he could see her rolling her eyes. "I'd hardly suffer. You're not all that—"

Sam cut her words off with a firm smack on the ass. "You will go to hell for lying, Cedes." And then, to make amends for the smack that he delivered, he massaged away the sting.

"Oooh," she said through clenched teeth, trying not to recall how he'd done the same thing the night of the blackout—and how much she'd loved it. She punched in the code to her apartment building and led him inside.

"That was just a warm-up," he warned.

He'd certainly warmed up her ass, but she wasn't about to admit that. Or how much she wanted him to make her wetter and even hotter for him.

Somehow the asshole knew because he gave her an amused chuckle, wrapping his arm around her waist to tug her closer as they walked up the first flight of stairs. She lived on the third floor of the apartment building, and the elevator only worked about a quarter of the time. As such, Mercedes never used it, calling the two flights of stairs her workout routine. Well, that and seven daily hours of chasing a bunch of Kindergarten students.

Yeah. Her exercise regime was solid, she thought sarcastically. Unlike Sam, who was rock-hard all over, she was a lot more plush…or as one of her students, Becky, liked to say, fluffy.

Unlocking her door, they hadn't made it more than two steps over the threshold before Sam was kicking it shut with his foot. He quickly threw the dead bolt, then reached for her.

She met him halfway, the two of them kissing like he'd been off to war for years. All freaking day, she'd felt this indescribable pull, fighting like the devil not to push him into some empty bedroom and rip off his clothes.

His brother and cousins would have loved that. Though Marissa, Elektra, and Stacey wouldn't have been too surprised.

Marissa had pulled her aside at one point and threatened to turn the hose on her and Sam if they gave off any more sparks from all of their eye sex and implausible sexual chemistry.

Mercedes had brushed it off, but there was no denying the truth of her words. Mercedes had been on a slow simmer all day, and now…

Now it was a full-blown boil.

A barking caught her attention, and she looked down to find Molly yipping against Sam's legs.

"Hey, Molly," he said, acknowledging her dog in a way that was pretty adorable, before he pulled off his jacket, leaving it on the couch. Then did the same with hers.

Sam slowly started guiding her backwards, down the hallway to her bedroom, all the time kissing her like his life depended on it. She worked the buttons of his shirt free, moving so fast that at one point, she heard the slight tearing of fabric.

Sam's hands had pulled her top from her jeans and slipped beneath, using his large grip to stroke the sensitive skin of her midsection, even as he steadied her on her backwards trek toward the bedroom.

Once his shirt hung open, she ran her fingers down his chest, stealing a quick touch before she started tackling his belt. She unthreaded it from the loops with a sharp swish, just as they reached her bedroom door.

Sam's hands had found their way to her bra, beneath her shirt, and he was cupping her breasts firmly, squeezing them, pinching her nipples through the lace. Through it all, he'd never once broken the kiss.

"Good Lord," she breathed when the back of her knees hit the edge of her mattress. Sam pulled her shirt over her head in one quick motion, drawing her bra straps over her shoulders to place kisses there. He was just about to push her down when Mercedes caught sight of her messy bed, and she remembered…

"Oh hell," she whispered, pushing against Sam, trying to back him up. She'd have been more successful shoving a skyscraper.

"What's wrong?" he murmured, his lips traveling over her cheek and down the side of her neck. Her eyes drifted closed for just a second before they flew open again.

"I need to make the bed," she blurted out.

Sam lifted his head away from the shoulder he'd started to lick and gave her a funny look. "That is the definition of pointless."

"Yeah, but…um…I'd still like to straighten things up in here a little. I wasn't expecting you to come back with me."

He glanced around her far-too-tidy room. Good Lord, why was she such a neat freak?

Then his gaze drifted to her bed—and he grinned.

The sheets were twisted to hell. She'd spent every single night this week trying to work off some arousal.

"What's in the bed?" he asked.

She scowled, hoping to wipe the know-it-all look off his face. Of course the son of a bitch would know exactly why she was suddenly panicking. "Nothing," she lied, though her denial was the true definition of pointless.

"Tell me," he urged her.

Mercedes sighed…trying to guess herself. Typically, she washed and packed her toys away afterwards, but she'd been so hot and bothered last night, knowing she was going to see Sam today, that she'd really expanded her usual workout routine, then passed out in exhaustion afterwards. Sadly, none of it had held a candle to what she knew he could do to her.

She turned toward the bed.

"Come on, Cedes. What's hiding in those sheets?"

Oh, it. He wasn't going anywhere until she told him. "An oral sex simulator, one—possibly two—vibrators, and a dildo."

Sam burst out laughing. "Jesus. I'm really getting to you, aren't I?"

"Hate to burst your bubble, but Winston Duke is my go-to."

Sam wrapped his arms around her from behind, placing one of those right-on-the-erogenous-zone kisses to the nape of her neck, and she melted. "You can call me M'Baku later."

"Go home." There was no heat behind her words, and God help her if he called her bluff.

"Nope. You and I are going on a treasure hunt."