Thank you for your continued support in 2021. I appreciate it.

I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own It Had To Be You.

Shit!" Sam said, rising to his feet, as Mercedes surfaced, sputtered, and went back under.

"Shit!" he said again, and dove into the water after her.

The shock of the cold water sucked the air from his lungs, as he hauled her into his arms, treading water for the both of them.

She was shivering, but not hurt or scared...or so he assumed...by the way she laughed with abandon and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You didn't have to come in," she said. "I can swim."

Except she didn't and wasn't swimming.

Still laughing, she was holding onto him, making no attempt to keep herself afloat.

Her sundress clung to her skin, and her hair lay in dark tendrils on her shoulders.

And his.

"You weren't kidding about the water," she said.

Clueless to the fact that he was the only thing holding her up, she wrapped herself around him like Saran Wrap.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'll let you know when my balls defrost."

This set her off laughing again, and she dropped her head to his chest.

Shaking his head and smiling in spite of himself, he gathered her in close and got them both to the shore.

When Sam dragged Mercedes out of the water, she dropped to her knees.

"That was fun," she said. "Let's do it again."

He took in her grinning face...her eyes shining as bright as the stars...and just looking at her, was a kick in the gut.

He was leaving.

How was he going to leave her?

And why did it matter so much?

They've known each other for a blink in time. But already she was a tie, binding him here, to this place he loved so much.

He felt his mouth curve in genuine amusement, when she stared at him.

"Whoa!" she said, "You're making my world spin."

"Nope. I'm pretty sure that's the Scotch," he said, but he dropped to his knees next to her.

She leaned into him, letting out a soft, dreamy sigh.

"I'm pretty sure it's you," she said softly.

Then, she cupped his face, pulled it to hers, and kissed him, long and hot and wet.

Sam allowed himself get lost in Mercedes for a deliciously long moment, then pulled free.

"You're toasted," he said.

"Mmm...toast," she purred. "I really like peanut butter toast. When I first moved out on my own, I used to eat peanut butter for dinner, 'cuz it was cheap. I'd stick a spoon in the jar and lick it slowly...like a lollipop...to make it last."

Sam felt his heart clench again, hard. And utterly unable to help himself, he tugged her back in and kissed her again.

She tasted of Scotch and warm, sweet Mercedes.

And something else.

She tasted like...his.

"You know," Mercedes said very seriously, "You're all wet."

Sam laughed.

She grinned up at him, clearly pleased at the sound. Then, she spread her arms and lay back, eyeing the sky.

"You don't see this many stars in White Center, you know. Too many lights. Plus, going outside at night, was a huge...big, no-no. My cousin Lana went outside at night once, to get her schoolbooks out of her mom's car, and never came back."

"Jesus!" Sam said, all amusement fading. "What happened?"

With a sigh, Mercedes closed her eyes.

"They found her body two days later in the river."

He leaned over her, stroking the wet hair from her face.

He wanted to erase all the bad in her world and leave only the good, but as he was a part of the bad, he had no idea how to do that.

"Tell me they caught the guy," he said.

"It was her boyfriend. Turned out, he'd won a big pile of cash at the slots that day, and she'd stolen it from him."

She sighed again, probably thinking about the money she was accused of stealing.

"Can I have another shot?"

"It's gone," Sam said, as he stroked the wet hair from her face. "And besides, that's not what you need."

"No?"

"No," he said, and picked her up into his arms.

"Oh," she said, clutching at him. "Are you taking me in, Officer?"

"Yes."

"Are you gonna interrogate me?"

"No, you're going to exercise your right to be silent."

Sam carried Mercedes into the house, set her down by her bed and stared at her sundress, which was clinging to her like a second skin.

A sheer skin, and there were no buttons or zipper on the front.

"I don't do silent so well," she said.

'No shit!' he thought.

"Maybe you should get out your cuffs," she said, a little hopefully.

And Sam's body went from zero to sixty, at the image of her cuffed to his bed, begging him to take her however he wanted.

And he wanted.

He wanted her in every possible way.

With a hand to her hips, Sam turned Mercedes away from him and finally located a zipper.

He slid it down and gulped.

No bra...and thong panties...on that ass.

'Good Lord!' he thought. And then,

'Close your eyes, asshole!' as he peeled the drenched and clinging dress down her curvy body.

But he didn't close his eyes.

Biting back a groan at the perfection in front of him, he reached passed her, pulled the blankets down, and poured her into the bed.

"Can't go to bed with wet hair," she said, rolling to her back, exposing her breasts. "It'll get crazy."

Sam wasn't sure how she could tell the difference, but he loved her crazy hair.

"It's good," he said, stroking it from her face.

"Really?"

"Really."

Her nipples were hard, he noted...two perfect gumdrops...and his mouth watered.

He yanked the covers up to her chin, and realized he was sweating, and feeling like he should be awarded a medal for being a saint...for exercising such restraint.

Meanwhile, Mercedes made a soft, disagreeable sound and kicked the blankets off, revealing her glorious body again.

And then, before Sam could stop her, she grabbed his hand and tugged, until he fell on top of her.

Well, okay, so he could have stopped her, but he didn't, and he didn't really want to think about that, because then, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him there.

"Mmm," she said dreamily.

And he let out a low laugh against her temple, as he tried to extricate himself from her vise-like grip.

But every time he freed a limb, she tightened another, all the while silent, with her eyes closed.

Then suddenly, she opened them and looked right into his.

"You haven't left yet."

Sam was sucker punched right in the gut, because he knew she didn't mean right this moment.

She meant that the men in her life left her. All of them.

"It's my house," he teased, not in any shape to have this conversation.

But she didn't laugh, and that took him aback, so he stopped trying to free himself.

"Mercedes," he said, low and desperate. "I'm trying to do the right thing here."

"Well, don't."

She rocked up into him and moaned and the sound gave him a rush.

"You're going to sleep," he said firmly.

"Who will keep my feet warm?" she asked.

"I'll get you an extra blanket."

"A stick in the mud," she muttered. "Who'd have thought, that the hot, sexy Sam Evans is nothing but a stick in the mud?"

"You'll thank me in the morning."

Again, Sam pulled the blanket up to Mercedes' chin, firmly tucking her in, so that he wasn't tempted to do anything stupid.

"My panties are wet..." she whined.

And he dropped his forehead to hers.

"...and my shoes are still on."

Sam sat back on his heels, as once again, she kicked the covers off and lifted her foot for him to remove her sandal.

He pressed her foot to his chest and went to work on the buckle over her ankle, doing his damnedest not to notice, that her panties were as sheer as her dress had been.

"Oh God!" he groaned, glancing at the white lace thong, that barely covered her mound.

Mercedes smiled up at him, her eyes soft and dreamy and glazed over. And he felt a helpless smile curve his mouth in return.

"You're trouble," he said. "You know that?"

"So I've been told."

It was an innocent response, but it reminded him, of exactly how often she'd been disappointed and hurt.

He was not going to be one of those men.

Ever.

"I also tend to drive people crazy," she said. "Especially men. I drove all my mom's men right off. I'm pretty good at doing it to my own men too...driving them off."

She sat up and tried to pile her hair on top of her head, using the hair band she had around her wrist, but she was having some coordination issues.

And then, the thing got stuck in her hair, so there she sat, in her barely there panties, arms up over her head, hands entangled in her hair, looking like a walking, talking wet dream.

"Sam?"

Deciding it was safest to leave her hands restrained, he ignored her, the same way he was trying to ignore the unintentionally gut-wrenching tales of her life, as he fought her sandal off.

"Hey," she said, tugging on her hair.

"Hey, yourself."

When he finally got her sandals off, he leaned in carefully to take over the hair fiasco, and after a few minutes, he managed some sort of bun, though it was lopsided.

Mercedes smiled at him in gratitude, all flushed, a little damp, and looking hotter than anything he could possibly imagine.

"Kiss me, Sam."

'A demanding drunk,' he thought, amused, and gave her a short, sweet kiss.

But he'd greatly underestimated her determination.

"Mmm," she said, wrapping him up tight in her arms, deepening the kiss, and drawing him into her nefarious plans, like a moth to the flame.

He let her have her way...hell, who was he kidding, he probably wanted it even more than she did.

But when she slid her hands beneath his shirt and then paused, he sucked in a breath.

A few moments ago, he'd been trying to extract himself, but now, all he could think was,

'Up or down, Mercedes?'

Mercedes chose up first, brushing his nipples, and tugging a low groan from him.

Then down, over his abs and farther, her fingers playing with the tie on his board shorts.

When she tugged, he caught her hands and pinned them above her head. He had no idea where the hell he found the strength, but he couldn't let her do this.

He kept trying not to get sucked in by her.

And kept failing.

But she had the singular ability to both break his heart and make him yearn and burn.

He'd told his sister Stacie she was work, but she wasn't work at all.

Nor was she a vacation diversion.

She was…real. The first real thing in his life, in far too long.

Mercedes fought a hand free and touched Sam's face.

"You're a good man, Sam, you know that?"

With a groan, he tried to concentrate on anything, besides the sexy, warm woman beneath him.

Her curves were pressed up against him, chest to chest, hips to hips, and thighs to thighs.

But that's not what was grabbing him by the throat and holding on.

As always, it was her eyes. And all the things he could see there, which was everything, every single thing, including the fact that she cared about him.

Far more than he deserved.

He dropped his head to the pillow beside hers, thinking here she was, all sweet and sleepy, snuggling up to him. And here he was, wanting to fuck her until she screamed his name.

'Some good guy you are,' he thought, internally chastising himself.

"Mercedes."

She didn't answer.

Sam lifted his head to kiss her goodnight, because he was leaving.

Right now.

But caressing her hair from her face, he had to chuckle softly. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open, her limbs loose and relaxed.

She was fast asleep.

And he hurt just looking at her.

Pressing his lips to her temple, he breathed her in.

"You're perfect," he whispered, "Just the way you are."

Stay safe!