Thank you for your continued interest and support. I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own Reaper's Legacy.

MERCEDES...

"Let me go," I whispered.

He cocked his head, as if considering the idea, then slowly shook it.

"I can't," he said.

Then his lips covered mine and a fuse blew in my brain...

MERCEDES CONT'D

It wasn't a polite kiss.

It wasn't slow and seductive and deeply meaningful either.

This was an explosion of pent-up lust...

Years' worth, to be honest.

Sam's chest was like a concrete wall, and I wrapped my legs around his hips without a thought.

Reflexively or not, his hand tightened in my hair, tilting my head to the side to give him better access. And his tongue thrusted deep...without mercy.

I felt the little ball in the center...

It teased me, reminding me that sex with him would be completely different than anything I'd ever felt before.

He slid his hand into my tank, pulling his torso back just enough to cup my breast.

And his fingers found my nipple, tweaking it through the thin silk of my bra as I arched my back, desperate for more.

His shaft pushed into my stomach so hard it almost hurt. And he tore his mouth free, but we just stared at each other, panting and wholly mesmerized.

Holy hell! I suddenly wished we weren't wearing so many clothes...

"We decided this was a bad idea," I reminded him rather desperately, wondering how he'd feel if I just leaned forward and sucked on his lip. I couldn't take my eyes off it, all dark red and glistening with a sheen of moisture from our kiss. "I'm not drunk today. No excuses."

"You said you wanted to get laid," he replied, pupils dark and full. "Well, I'm here. And it's already all screwed up between us, so why not make the most of it? The damage is done, we're totally fucked. I can't forget how you tasted the other night, or how you felt on top of me on that couch. I need to be inside you, Mercy."

So tempting...

But could I keep messing around with him and still live here?

I'd lusted after him forever, and there was no question he wanted me...

Then I thought about the woman who'd sat naked in this very kitchen just half an hour ago...

And the purple panties...

And the green bra...

All in his house, which was supposed to be Bray's refuge.

Sleeping with this man was suicide.

I felt like banging my head against something hard, but only his chest was handy and getting closer to that expanse of bare skin was the last thing I needed.

"Bad idea," I said, even as his fingers rolled my nipple and his other hand lowered to brace my hips as he rubbed the rigid length of his shaft against my center.

That slow back-and-forth would only get better once he slid into me...

I felt all wound up inside...

Almost dizzy.

And I don't think I've ever wanted anything more than I wanted Sam in my body.

Except a decent life for my son.

"If we do this, you can just move along afterward," I told him, closing my eyes. My sex clenched tight, desperate and empty. And I tried to ignore it. "Who you sleep with is nothing to you, Sam. But I'm different."

"You're the one who was talking friends with benefits," he murmured. "Why's your story changing now? Are you scared?"

"Hell yes, I'm scared," I replied, opening my eyes again, searching his face. I saw no mercy or understanding there, just harsh, unyielding lust. "I live with you and I don't have anywhere else to go. And I found three pairs of panties in your couch cushions yesterday, and none of them were the same size. I don't think I can sleep with you and then nod and smile, while a parade of women passes through the house. Sounds like a pretty good reason not to do this."

"Why the hell were you looking through my couch cushions?" he asked, and his hips stilled.

I'd caught him off guard with that one.

"I cleaned your house," I replied. "Kind of a surprise-slash-thank-you-present. Your company last night pretty much took care of that, though."

"Jesus!" he whispered, shaking his head slowly, hips starting to rock again.

That felt nice...

His dick felt so good rubbing against my most sensitive spot, I could come from just that, even with the fabric between us.

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't even know they were coming over. But I don't suppose that's much of an excuse..." he trailed off.

I shrugged, unable to meet Sam's gaze. I looked at his tattoos instead.

Most of them were high quality, fanciful designs clearly put together by a true artist.

He took his body art seriously, I realized. Ink wasn't just a whim.

And I'd bet he had a story for each one. And you know what? I wanted to hear those stories far more than was healthy.

He eyed me thoughtfully, rubbing the tip of my nipple with his finger in a slow circle. Then he took my hand and slid it down between us, pressing it against the length of his hard dick, the backs of his own fingers brushing my core.

I gasped and squirmed.

And my grip tightened, shaping him through the stiff fabric of his jeans.

Even through the denim, I could tell he was big and broad. Much bigger than my vibrator.

Was that hard bump near the tip his...?

I didn't even know what to call it. I wanted to see it though...

To see all of him...so badly, I could've died.

Sam's knuckles framed my center and I moaned, even as his eyes darkened.

"You want this as much as I do," he said, voice soft. "It's not goin' away. We're just going to burn up higher and higher until one of us explodes and we get hurt. Let's end it now. I need to be inside you, Mercy."

"You needed to be inside the blonde last night too," I replied quietly. "And look how that ended. Are you going to kick me and Bray out if things get awkward?"

"You're wrong about that," he replied.

"About kicking us out? It's not going to work...us sleeping together and you sleeping around. Some random guy I could just ditch, but I'm stuck with you."

"You're wrong about me needing to be inside her last night," he corrected me. "I needed you. You're all I thought about while I was gone. I went to sleep every night with a stiff dick, and woke up harder. It didn't matter how much I jerked off or who I screwed. Riding home from Portland last night, I knew that if I came back into this house and it was all dark and quiet, I'd go downstairs and find you. Then I'd crawl into your bed and fondle your sweet pussy and open you up for me whether you wanted it or not. So I tried something else, because we decided we weren't going to screw around with each other. It didn't work."

My hand had started rubbing his dick through the rough fabric. And it was hard to focus on his words...between that and his knuckles stroking my center.

But they'd found a steady rhythm up and down, and my hips rolled into them ever so slightly, rebelling against all rational thought.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" I asked. "Because when I saw her, I wanted to kill her. And you. And I don't have any right to feel that way."

"I don't have any right to put you off limits, either," Sam replied. "But I'm doin' it anyway. I don't want you fucking around with anyone at the club. Make that no fucking around, period. You're mine!"

I lifted my hand and slid it down into his jeans, my fingers tracing his naked dick...

I found the metal bar piercing his glans...two hard, metal balls capped it, top and bottom.

I touched it softly and he groaned.

"Imagine those deep inside you," he muttered, closing his eyes, even as his hips spasmed. "First I'll rub them against your core, and then they'll hit your G-spot the whole damned time I'm riding you. Un-fucking-believable, babe."

I tightened inside at the thought, nearly undone. I played with them a few seconds longer then moved lower, gripping his shaft firmly.

He moaned and I tightened my fingers, almost angry because I wanted him so bad.

Sam opened his eyes, giving me a lazy smile.

"You trying to hurt me?" he whispered. "Because you'll never be able to, babe. Squeeze me as hard as you like. I get off on it. I'm stronger than you, which means in the end, I'll win. That's the way of the world."

"That's not fair," I replied softly.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against mine, even as his fingers pulled away from the front of my cutoffs to slip inside.

I felt them ease lower, one on either side of my core, fluttering and squeezing.

And his shaft pulsed in my hand, hot, hard and heavy, the ball brushing lightly against the inside of my wrist.

"Life isn't fair, baby," he whispered. "Sometimes you just have to make the most of what you've got."

"Would this be a one-time thing?" I asked, so tempted.

Could I do it? Just give in for once, then go back to pretending it never happened?

"No idea," he replied, voice lowering, growing harsher. "But it'll probably take more than once to get out from under each other's skin. I've wanted you a long time, Mercedes. And I never forgot how you tasted. Not for one single fucking day in the last four years. Jesus, you were sweet."

My breath caught.

"And after it's over?"

"We move along," Sam replied. "I'll show you respect and you do the same for me. I promise I won't bring any women here. I shouldn't have done it anyway, there are beds at the club."

"But you'll move on," I said slowly, feeling something deep inside me tear apart. "And I'll just be another in your lineup, because that's what you do. You screw women, and then you screw them over."

"Better than my hand," he said bluntly. "I've never pretended to be something I'm not, babe. I'm not gonna settle down...I don't want to commit...And I love my life the way it is. Most guys feel the same way...but the difference between them and me...is that I'll never lie to you about it."

"That's why this is such a huge mistake," I told him, wishing it could be different.

But I hurt, and not just from frustrated desire. I'd always known this about him, but hearing him say it so bluntly...that got to me.

"I should go downstairs right now and we'll forget it ever happened," I said.

But my hand kept sliding up and down his shaft, reaching up and catching on the metal as I found his pre-come, using it to ease my way back down.

And his fingers kept moving on my clit, rolling it, even as a shiver tore through me.

My inner muscles clenched and I knew I had to be dripping wet by now.

"We'll stop soon," he said, rubbing his nose along mine oh-so-slowly. "Just one more taste..."

Sam's lips parted mine again, his tongue plunging deep, filling my mouth the way I wanted him to fill my body.

It was hard to focus on all the sensations...

His hungry kiss...

His fingers gliding along my center...

And his hard dick in my hand, pulsing as those two metal balls taunted me...

All of it blended into one big ball of aching, burning need.

Then his fingers moved faster and I gave up everything but my own pleasure.

Tension built in me as Sam pulled his mouth free, tugging up my shirt. In a flash, the cup of my bra came down and his mouth took my breast, sucking it in deep and hard, flicking the peak with his tongue.

The hard metal tormented my nipple...the contrast between solid steel and hot flesh destroying my ability to think.

The only thing I knew, was that Sam's powerful body surrounded me.

He smelled wonderful...a mixture of soap and some sort of cologne...or whatever.

It was fresh, which meant he had probably taken a shower to wash off last night's sexcapade with TBS...

Which reminded me...

I needed to get away from him...

But his fingers played me and I couldn't do anything but fall back into the incredible intensity of his touch on my most sensitive spot.

I was close now, panting harshly.

But Sam's mouth still held my nipple trapped.

Then he caught the other in his fingers, tugging and jerking everything all together. And I whimpered, so close I could taste it, but needing just a little more to go over the edge.

Then he stopped teasing and pushed down against my center, rough and demanding. And I lost it...

My hips convulsed as I came, twisting on the counter shamelessly, even As Sam covered my mouth with his once more, kissing me softly as the tremors ran through me, leaving me limp in his arms.

Then he lifted his head, meeting my eyes.

The hunger in his face was intense, more than I'd ever seen on a man.

I'd stopped stroking him in the thick of things, but I still held his shaft. And I know it seems impossible, but he'd gotten thicker, even now as I pumped his length hard, squeezing as I did so.

Sam's fluid coated everything and my fingers slipped across his pierced head as he arched in my hand.

We stayed like that, locking gazes, as I worked him faster and faster. And after a minute his face darkened and his breath quickened.

Then he reached between us, pushing down his jeans and pulling his dick fully free, his hand covering mine.

He started jerking our joined hands up and down together, much rougher than I'd do on my own. And the heel of my hand caught his pierced head each time, making him growl, primal and hungry.

"Let me fuck you, Merce," he begged, his voice full of pain. But I shook my head, closing my eyes, because I didn't want him to see how close I was to giving in.

"No," I said, almost crying because it hurt so bad to say it. "I'm not going to have sex with you and then watch you with other women. I can't do it. I know myself, Sam. Unless you can tell me right here, right now that you want to seriously try to make something together, I can't sleep with you. Let me finish this and then it's over."

He caught my hand, squeezing it tight around his length even as he closed his eyes, shuddering.

Then he pulled my hand away with visible pain and twisted it behind my back, jerking my body forward into his, transforming me from lover to prisoner so casually, it terrified me.

"There's no lie here," he said, his voice grating. His face was flushed dark red and his chest heaved, his eyes burning.

Every part of him was rock hard, from his chest crushing my breasts to his naked penis pressed into my belly.

"There is no manipulation between us. It is what it is. But I'll give you the ride of your life, Mercy. That I guarantee."

"The ride of my life?" I asked, the words hitting me like cold water, breaking through my fog of stupidity.

Holy hell! What was I doing?

I'd lost my fucking mind.

Sam might be a great uncle, but I couldn't trust him for shit with my body, let alone my heart.

"Shaun already gave me the ride of my life, Sam," I said, making every word count. "But I learned my lesson from him. Sex is short and it changes everything. That's something men like you can't begin to understand."

He jerked away from me, his mouth tight and his eyes hard, glaring at me.

"Jesus Christ, you're a bitch!"

"I'm not a bitch," I replied, and it took everything I had to keep my voice steady. "I'm a mother. And I can't afford to play games with you, Sam. You'll break me, and that will break Bray."

"Un-fucking-believable!" he muttered, slamming his hand next to me on the counter.

I jumped, almost scared as he reached down to tuck himself back into his pants, visibly pained.

He refused to step away or allow me any kind of escape, taking my shoulders in his big hands with a jerk.

"Nothin' is changed," he said, eyes burning with anger and frustrated need.

My breath caught...

Sam has always been scary...

But because there's something wrong with me, seeing him this angry turned me on, too.

This man has leached the very common sense right out of my body.

"If you go to that party, keep your hands off. That's a fuckin' order. No flirtin', no makin' out, no touchin', nothin'. These aren't Boy Scouts, and they won't be happy if you start something you don't plan to finish. You're off bounds. We clear?" Sam ordered.

"Crystal," I whispered. "I understand you completely."

"Thank heavens for that," he muttered, letting me go and stepping back.

Finally.

I took a deep breath, dizzy with relief, while he ran a hand through his hair, glaring a hole through me.

"Now get your ass out of my house. Go for a car ride, go shopping, whatever the hell you want, but don't come back until you've picked Bray up from school. I'll be gone by then."

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"You seriously think that's any of your business?" he asked, raising his brows. "Because we aren't fuck buddies, you aren't my old lady, and I sure as hell don't remember puttin' you in charge of my life."

"You're right. You don't owe me anything," I said.

'But you don't get to control me, either,' I thought, way too chicken to say it out loud.

"And I'm sorry. You aren't anything like Shaun. I know that. But this isn't just about us, it's about my son. He's not losing another home because we can't keep our pants on, Sam."

"Have I ever done anything...anything...to hurt that child?" he asked.

"I don't think you'd do it on purpose."

"Get the hell out before I change my mind, Mercedes. Jesus!"

No sense in arguing the point...

I got the hell out.

I might post the other half of this chapter later. Not sure yet. I have to make a supermarket run first.

Stay safe!