Thank you for your continued support and interest. I appreciate it.
I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own Chasing Christmas eve.
Sam had thought it would've been fun to teach Mercedes how to drive. Turned out, fun wasn't quite the right word.
Terrifying would've been a better one.
Or probably, living nightmare.
Currently, she stomped on the brake and he practically kissed the windshield.
And he was still peeling his face off the glass, when she hit the gas, knocking the back of his head into the seat rest.
"Whoops!" she said and jammed both feet on the brake.
Shaking his head from the whiplash, he put a hand on her arm to stop her.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Your pedals are a little touchy."
"Uh-huh. Try sweet-talking it into doing your bidding," he suggested. "Ease it gently into following your whim. Do that and it'll give you a helluva good ride."
Mercedes slid him a look.
"Are you aware, that sometimes the things you say, sound dirty? You want me to sweet-talk what exactly into giving me a good ride...your truck or your favorite body part?"
Sam grinned.
"Honey, you can sweet-talk my favorite body part anytime you want. Now put one foot on the brake and then put the truck back into drive."
Mercedes put her left foot on the brake pedal.
"Other foot," Sam said.
She switched to her right foot.
"I've always thought that seems dumb," she said. "Why not use a foot for each pedal?"
"Because, it works out better for the engine...and my neck...if you don't try to use both the gas and the brake at the same time."
"Oh," she said. "Good point." She paused. "You do know, that I have no idea what I'm doing, right?"
"I'm getting that," he said. "Didn't you ever ride the bumper cars at the fair? Or Autopia at Disneyland?"
"No. But one time my brother stole an ATV and went for a joyride. Then, he brought it home and I had to drive it back."
"And how did that go?"
She didn't answer.
He glanced over and grinned at the flash of guilt on her face.
"Let me guess. Not good."
"I hit the gas too hard, did a wheelie, and fell off the back," she said and winced. "And got a concussion."
Sam had an arm stretched out along the back of the seats and slid his hand up the nape of her neck, to palm and cradle her head.
"We're not going to do that today," he said.
"I thought you didn't make promises you couldn't keep," she said.
"I don't. Now hold the brake down and put it in drive," he said again. "You're going to be fine."
His voice was purposefully low, authoritative and calm.
Which in turn, appeared to have calmed her.
Mercedes held a foot down on the brake and put the truck into drive.
"Now slowly let up the brake," Sam said, "And ease on the gas. Emphasis on ease."
She didn't exactly ease, but hey, she didn't stomp either, and then they were making their way across the empty lot, weaving, because she was checking out the complicated-looking GPS system on the dash.
"You've got this thing rigged for a Mars excursion," she said.
"Watch the road, not the screen," he warned, eyeing the planter along the parking lot, the one lined with full-grown trees.
"No, but seriously, what are all these gadgets for?"
"I'll tell you later." They were getting closer to the trees. "Watch the road, sweetheart."
"I'm not on the road. We're in a parking lot," Mercedes said.
"Which is a good thing, considering, you're taking up the equivalent of four lanes. You're going to have to lock it down to graduate to the road," Sam stated.
"How's this? Better?"
He paused.
And she risked a look at him.
He grimaced.
"Yes?"
"Wow!" she said, shaking her head. "You're a really bad liar."
"Maybe because, I'm distracted by the planter you're heading for. Trees, Mercedes. Lots of trees."
"Son of a biscuit!" she swore, and swerved wildly, then slammed the brakes, so that they both came up against their seatbelts hard enough to rattle some teeth loose.
"Phew!" she said. "You know, this really isn't as easy as it looks."
"Some people aren't meant for driving," he said. "Some people have other talents."
She laughed.
"Like ordering an Uber?" she asked.
"There's no shame in that."
On her fifth time around the lot, Mercedes had gotten the hang of things...somewhat.
Sure, she'd mistakenly driven up and over a concrete planter and maybe killed a few daisies while she was at it. And yes, she'd also left a good amount of rubber on the asphalt, when she'd accidentally executed a burnout, but she hadn't crashed into anything.
Yet.
She was working on controlling her speed, going too fast into a tight turn, when a whoop of a siren and a flash of blue and red lights came from behind them.
"Uh-oh!" she said, looking wild and wide-eyed.
The security guard came to the driver's side window and bent down, to look first Mercedes and then Sam.
"What's with the Indy 500 act?" the man asked.
"I'm learning how to drive," Mercedes told him.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Yes!" She sighed. "I'm just not that good at it yet."
"You broke about ten driving laws just now."
"She's not on the street," Sam said. "We're on private property."
"True enough," the security guard said. "But someone called it in from the building. Said there were two stupid teenagers in the lot acting crazy and probably smoking pot."
He lifted a brow and eyed Sam.
"You in charge here?" he asked.
"Yes," Sam replied.
"Actually," Mercedes said, "I'm in charge of myself."
Sam produced a badge and the officer took it, studied it, and then returned it.
"I'm sorry, sir," the guy said. "I didn't recognize you. Have a good one."
And then he left.
Mercedes looked at Sam in disbelief.
"What was that?" she asked.
"What was what?" he asked.
"He acted like you own this place."
"That's because I do."
She stared at him.
"You're like one of those really great cinnamon twists, we had the other day in Union Square. With lots of surprising layers, I didn't see coming."
"Right back at you," Sam said. "And I bet, like the rolls, you're also sweet and good to eat."
She squirmed in her seat and felt lady parts hum.
"You don't know that," she said.
He smiled.
"I have a good imagination."
At Sam's words, Mercedes' face felt like it was having a hot flash.
Then smiling, because he seemed to know exactly what he did to her... he leaned in excruciatingly slowly, until his lips just brushed hers.
And just like that, she felt her hot flash spread to every single inch of her body.
The anticipation of his touch, was enough to galvanize her into reaching up and tearing off his glasses.
His smile widened and he finally kissed her, making her moan in pleasure. And he kept kissing her, until they'd steamed up the windows and had gotten their hands on each other, in ways that made it hard to breathe.
After a while, Sam broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers, allowing the both of them to catch a well needed breath.
"Not here," he said, his voice so low, it was barely audible.
Mercedes heard herself give a little mewl of protest and then another in pure pleasure, when his hands, one inside her shirt and the other up her skirt, caressed bare, heated skin.
"I'm not taking you in a parking lot," he said and nipped her lower lip. "Not for our first time."
Mercedes trembled, because there were so many things to quiver over.
One...that he clearly assumed there'd be more than one time.
Two...that she was so bad off, she started to argue the point.
"But..."
With a husky laugh, Sam put his finger to her lips.
"There's security on the property, including cameras. And the last thing either of us needs, is a sex tape on YouTube."
With that, he lifted her out of the driver seat, put his glasses back on, and took over.
Mercedes barely remembered getting back, because Sam had his hand on her thigh and that was all she could think about.
Also, the way the soft pads of his fingers felt on her skin, as he stroked it while driving.
Minutes later, he parked at the Pacific Pier Building, got out and came around for her.
As he helped her from the vehicle, sparks flew and both leaned towards the other, their lips colliding in a deeply passionate kiss.
In seconds, Sam had her pressed up against the truck, kissing her, until his phone buzzed.
Reluctantly, he straightened his glasses and ripped the phone from his pocket.
"What?" he all but barked.
His gaze slid to Mercedes', his mouth slightly curved, as he listened and then disconnected.
"What?" she asked.
"I have tight security on this building too. Noah's on the monitors and got worried that I might actually swallow your tonsils."
Mercedes smiled.
"I don't have any tonsils."
With a laugh, he took her hand and they moved through the courtyard, heading for the elevator.
Inside the elevator, Mercedes stood next to Sam and tilted her face to his, looking at his mouth.
He groaned.
"Stop," he said.
"Cameras in here too?" she asked.
"Yeah. Remind me to rethink that," he said, cupping her face, running the pad of his thumb over her lower lip, his eyes heavy lidded.
Somehow, they got to his floor, where he tugged her off the elevator, his stride so fast, that she nearly had to run to keep up with him.
They tumbled inside his place, where he pressed her up against the foyer table and kissed her.
The kiss grew hungrier, and Mercedes got his jacket off his shoulders, but it caught on his forearms, because he was simultaneously divesting her of her coat and scarf.
Giving up on his jacket, she started pushing his T-shirt up, laughing breathlessly, when they both went to kick off their shoes and tripped over each other, crashing into the wall.
"No cameras in here, right?" she asked against his mouth.
"Not a one."
Sam was down to just his pants now, and since he'd left Mercedes' dress puddled on the floor, she was only in her bra and panties.
For a moment he stilled, his eyes glazing over, as he took in the midnight blue, see-through lace.
"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said roughly, catching her hands and holding them out at her sides. "I could look at you all night."
The fire in his eyes did things to her.
As did the telling bulge behind his zipper.
"Me too. I mean..." She grimaced at herself. "...I could look at you all night too."
He flashed her a grin.
"You're nervous."
"What? Of course not," she denied and then closed her eyes. "Okay, yes. I'm incredibly nervous. It's...been a while."
"Don't be. Maybe I'm really bad at this."
She laughed helplessly.
"I seriously doubt that."
"You don't know," he said. "Maybe I'm the one who's nervous. Go easy on me, okay?"
"Okay," she whispered, not buying this for one second, but finding it incredibly sweet that he wanted her to be at ease.
'Sweet and incredibly sexy,' she thought.
Needing a moment, Mercedes turned away, grasping the foyer desk, dropping her head, and struggling to control herself.
Sam came up behind her, his hands skimming up her arms.
She was so turned on by the feel of him surrounding her, that she pressed her bottom into him, and this time, it was his groan to echo in the apartment, as he slowly circled her waist with his hands.
Using his jaw to sweep her hair aside, he brushed a kiss to her ear and then to the sensitive spot just beneath it, as he pressed a hand flat to her belly to keep their bodies lined up.
Mercedes wanted him so bad, that she had a death grip on the desk, as she ground into him.
When his hands slid north, her head fell back against his shoulder, her body trembling for his touch.
Seconds later, her bra hit the floor and Sam's hands came up to cup her freed breasts, his thumbs sliding slowly over her nipples, making her shudder.
Suddenly, she was panting, unable to get control, and was torn between embarrassment at her reaction to him and sheer lust.
Sheer lust won, when she felt his mouth on the nape of her neck, before he turned her in his arms and captured her mouth with his.
She kissed him back, slow and deep, feeling more turned on than she'd ever felt in her life, as he lifted her up against him and started walking.
The next thing she knew, she was flat on her back on his bed.
"Um..." she said, and he stilled, a question in his eyes. "I'm so nervous I might forget my moves," she said. "I feel like this is my first time."
Sam's lips curved in a dark, sexy smile.
"This is going to be better than your first time," he promised.
"How do you know?" she asked, but he didn't reply. He just finished stripping and she stopped breathing as she watched.
Sam grabbed something from a drawer and Mercedes' anticipation heightened.
'A condom. Good. At least one of us is thinking,' she thought.
She reached for him, pulling him down on top of her, immediately wrapping her legs around his hips.
"Not yet," he said. "You're not ready..."
But she reached down, grabbed him and guided him home.
Her name fell from his lips in protest, in pleasure and in surprise.
She understood that last one, because she was definitely surprised at the feel of him taking over, filling her to the hilt, and moving inside her so exquisitely, that she almost came instantly.
"Not any good at this, huh?" Mercedes managed, when she found her tongue.
Sam buried his face in her throat, both chuckling and groaning.
"Christ, Mercedes..." His voice was guttural and strained. "You feel so good. So fucking good, that I don't ever want to stop."
"Then don't," she said.
And he didn't.
He threw his hips into action and drove deeply into her willing body.
She matched him thrust for thrust, as they moved together, and she knew the truth, that it was him that felt so good, because she didn't want to ever stop either.
"Mercedes..."
She managed to look at him, as he took her hands in his, entwining their fingers on either side of her head, pressing her into the mattress as he moved inside her, taking her places she'd never been.
His green eyes held hers prisoner, watching, coaxing, his voice a low sexy murmur, as she came, and came.
Their gazes were still locked, as her third...or was it fourth...orgasm triggered his, so that he came with her, her name on his lips, as he finally let himself go.
But for Mercedes, it was the most erotic experience of her life. And she couldn't wait to do it again.
Stay safe friends!