Thanks for all of the reviews! I promise that Sam and Cam's secret will come to light very soon. And all of your questions about the brother's and Mercedes will be answered. So this chapter is mostly Samcedes. You also meet Mercedes father in this chapter and her bad boy ex makes an appearance. Enjoy!
SAM
Something about the look on her face makes me feel like a meal. And if I were, I'd be a happy meal, for sure. Although I'm still impatient, I'm relieved. I figured she'd come around eventually. I knew she wouldn't be able to fight what's between us for too long. It's too strong. And tempting.
"You keep looking at me like that and you're gonna have a big surprise to deal with when you get on this bike," I tell her.
"A big surprise?" she asks, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Nah, don't you mean something more like a Tic Tac?"
I love her sense of humor. It's a little shy, just like her, and it pokes its head out at the most unusual times. I smile and hold out my hand to her.
"Then come here and let me freshen your breath."
She laughs.
And, as always, I want to do something immediately to make her laugh again. She thinks too much, worries too much. I don't know about what, but I can see it nonetheless. It makes me want to brighten her mood and give her as many carefree minutes as I can. Carefree and pleasurable. I stifle a groan. She puts her hand in mine and holds on to it as she straddles the seat behind me. Without turning around, I pass her the helmet. In the sideview mirror, I watch her slip it onto her head. There's something so sexy about seeing her in a helmet. Probably something about the way it makes me picture her in black, skintight leather, leaning forward on my bike with me behind her, my hands on her hips… I grit my teeth. Damn her and that lush body of hers!
I reach back and curl my fingers behind each of her knees and pull her forward. I feel more than hear her gasp as her crotch snugs up against my hips and her chest flattens against my back. I feel satisfied that now she's probably as highly attuned to me as I am to her, but then she ups the ante. She winds her arms around my waist and lets her hands ride dangerously low on my stomach. They're resting right above my buckle. Right above where she'll soon feel my hard -on if she's not careful. I take a deep breath before I put the bike into gear and accelerate away from the curb. I can't get her to school fast enough.
As we get close to campus, she points ahead to which roads and turns to take to get her near where she needs to be. When we arrive, I pull along the curb and stop, dropping my feet to the ground to stabilize the bike while she dismounts. She stands facing me to take off the helmet. When she does, she shakes her dark hair free. It looks like something a girl in a shampoo commercial might do. I have no doubt she doesn't have a clue how sexy she is. But she is. Holy hell, is she ever! She holds out the helmet to me, her eyes on mine. When I don't take it, she glances down at it and back up to me in question. I stand, still straddling the bike, and brush the helmet away, instead running my hands through her long hair and pulling her mouth to mine. Although she's obviously surprised, she doesn't hold back. She kisses me like she means it. Like she wants more. All she'd have to do is say the word and I'd drive her straight back home and we'd spend the day in bed. But when I pull away and look into her wide eyes, I know it's still a little too soon for that. She's close, but she's not quite ready. I can wait. I'll have to.
"When are you gonna say yes?" She says nothing as she watches me with her deep dark eyes. Her lips are red and puffy, and slightly parted as she breathes shallowly. I smile. Oh yeah, it won't be long. "Call me when you're ready for me to come get you," I say, giving her a quick peck on the lips before I put on the helmet. She looks dazed, which makes me want to smile. "Don't worry. You don't have to say yes today. I'll wait. You'll be worth it." Before I lower the shield over my face, I grin and wink at her. "And so will I." I pull off down the street. When I look into the side view mirror, I see that she's still standing exactly where I left her, staring after me.
MERCEDES
It's official. Sam is in my head. I may be present physically for all my classes, but it doesn't do me one bit of good. The only thing I learn is that he kisses like a tornado that's hell-bent on ruining my life. I still don't know who was in my room last night, but I'm starting to genuinely hope it was Sam and not Cam. Yes, Cam is everything I should want in a man, everything my mother tried to drum into my head. Not to mention that he's hotter than seven shades of hell and could probably make me forget my convictions when he kisses me. But beside Sam… he's beginning to pale in comparison. I don't know if it's my inherent love of the sexy bad boy or if it's that Sam is turning out to be more than what I initially thought. Either way, he's in my head. Under my skin. And I doubt I'll be able to resist him much longer. Don't get me wrong. He's still dangerous and will probably break my heart. And I'll try to hold out as long as I can. But in my heart, in my gut, I know there's something between us that won't go away until we sweat it out of each other. The fun way. But the way that will end with me in tears, watching him leave. At least this time, it's a choice, though. It's my choice. I'm going into it knowing full well that might happen. I might not be able to keep from getting hurt, but I'm in control enough to make the choice for myself. And, in the end, I'll choose Sam. Try as I might to fight it, it's inevitable. If only he could be a little, teeny, tiny bit like Cam…
My phone jars me from my thoughts. I forgot to turn the ringer off. I jump, scrambling to dig it out of my bag and answer it before I get crucified by my professor. I reach for the button on the side to mute it and am getting ready to slip it back into my bag when I see April's name on the screen. With a shrug, I pick up my book and my bag and head for the door. I've already disrupted class and I'm not learning a thing, anyway. I might as well just go ahead and leave. When I hit the talk button, I'm greeted by April's raised, irate voice and a long string of profanity.
"Stay in your lane , you limp-dick, candy-ass, crazy motherfu—"
"April?" I interrupt. She quiets immediately.
"Oh, Merce, hi sweetie. I didn't hear you answer."
"I can't imagine why," I remark dryly. "What's up?"
"Well, actually, I'm on my way to get you."
"Me? Why?" The hair at my nape prickles with unease If April is on her way to get me, something's wrong.
"Because your car is broken again , right?"
"Um, yes, but how did you know?"
"You had to have someone drive you all the way to Salt Springs for your last shift, remember?" Cam.
"Oh, right. But it's been fixed since then."
"Well hell," she says in frustration. "But wait, you just said it's broken."
"I know. It is. It's just a different break."
"Merce, seriously, I fear for your life in that piece of shit. No car should tear up as frequently as yours does. Do you have Munchausen's by proxy?"
"Munchausen's by proxy?"
"Yeah, you know where people, like , poison their family members and stuff for attention."
"I know what it is. I'm just a little surprised you do." I can hear the proud smile in her voice.
"I saw a special on the Discovery Channel."
"You were watching the Discovery Channel?"
"Yes."
"Um, why?"
"I lost the remote."
"You lost the remote?"
"Yes. Are you just gonna repeat everything I say?"
"If you keep saying ridiculously unbelievable things, then yes, probably."
"What have I said that's ridiculous?"
"That I might have Munchausen's by proxy. With my car. That you learned something on the Discovery Channel. That you even know what the Discovery Channel is. And that you sat in your living room watching a show about Munchausen's syndrome because you lost the remote control. How can you lose the remote control in a house as small as yours?"
"It was in the freezer. Apparently when I took out the vodka, I set the remote control down."
"That makes sense," I say sarcastically.
"The batteries in that bitch'll probably never die now," she says with a bark of laughter.
"April, can I ask you a question?" I ask gently.
"Sure, sweetie. What is it?"
"Why are you on your way to get me?" Sometimes April needs a little redirection to stay on point. Sometimes I need the same thing when I'm with April.
"Oh, damn! It's your dad. He fell and broke his leg. He made me promise not to tell you, but… well, you know. I'm gonna. Of course, I'm gonna."
"He broke his leg? When?"
"Two days ago."
"And I'm just now finding out about this?" I have to concentrate on keeping my voice lowered. I'm intensely annoyed that I'm finding out so long after the fact.
"I wasn't going to tell you at all. He made me promise, you know. Like I said. But then when Tad mentioned seeing him at the hospital and that he's expecting some lambs, well, I knew you'd want to know. Someone who knows what the hell they're doing will have to come take care of things for a day or two until you find the babies and whatever else you need to do."
"So if there weren't lambs on the way, no one would've told me?" My anger is rising.
"Uh," April says quietly , knowing she's on dangerous ground. "That fool father of yours made everyone promise. He doesn't want you having to make the trip home or spend your time worrying about him."
I pinch the skin between my eyes , wishing I could stop the dull throb that's building across the front of my head. I bite back the dozen or so sharp comments that are trembling on the tip of my tongue.
"How far out are you?"
"About ten minutes."
"I'm still at school. You'll have to pick me up here."
"That's fine. Just give me directions."
I sigh . Loudly. Trying to give April directions and then expecting her to actually show up at the correct location is a lot like throwing a knife into the air. It's dangerous and stupid, and somebody could end up getting hurt. She has landed us in questionable parts of town more than once, places I would never dream of getting out of the car. Unless, of course, I was accompanied by two ninjas and a sumo wrestler. But in this case, what choice do I have? I wouldn't feel comfortable imposing on either Sam or Cam. It wouldn't be such a big deal if I could use Magic Vagina powers, but those only work on people a girl has slept with. And since I still have no clue which brother dove headfirst into my panties last night, there can be no wielding of the Magic Vagina.
I give April directions to the student center. At least I can get something to drink while I wait for her. After we hang up, I call Sam to tell him I won't be able to work the weekend shift.
"I'm so sorry, but it's a family emergency."
"I understand. Do you want me to come get you now?"
"No, my friend April is on her way." There's a long pause.
"I would've taken you wherever you needed to go."
"I appreciate that, but she was already on her way when she called."
"Hmmm," is his only response.
"Well, thank you so much for…everything. I promise I'll take care of stuff with my car when I get back. And I'll pick up as many extra shifts as you need me to in order to make this up." I hate the thought of losing my new job and having to go crawling back to my old one, but it's my dad…
"Don't worry about that. We'll figure something out. You're not going to be out of a job when you get back, if that's what you're thinking." I close my eyes in relief. The thought had very much crossed my mind.
"I really appreciate your understanding," I say, injecting into my voice all the sincerity I can muster.
"I'm sure I can think of some way for you to pay me back." The comment is wildly inappropriate, of course, but I can hear the smile in Sam's voice. He's teasing me.
"I'm sure you can. The question is: Can you think of something that does not involve me taking off my clothes?" I'm playing with fire and I know it.
"Of course! Wear a skirt and only one item will need to come off. I'd just hate for you to miss out on… everything else." A little shiver works its way down my spine and lands in the pit of my stomach like a bolt of lightning. I laugh uncomfortably. I can't tease like he can. He must know I'm at a loss. He chuckles.
"Take care of what you need to. Take your time. Call if you need anything."
"I will. And thanks, Sam."
After we hang up, I get a drink from the taco joint inside the student center and then walk back outside to sit on one of the benches and await April. I wonder if I should call Cam. Just to let him know I won't be in town all weekend. He might want to keep an eye on things. Or at least that's what I tell myself. The excuse I use.
"Cam, it's Mercedes," I say when he answers. I hear his soft laugh.
"I know who you are, Mercedes." I feel the blush sting my cheeks. I'm glad he can't see it.
"Oh, right. Sorry." I clear my throat nervously. "So, I'll be out of town for the weekend. I just wanted you to know in case… well, just in case anybody needed anything." Ohmigod, could you sound any more lame?
"Okay. Thanks for letting me know. Need some time away from my overbearing brother already?" I know he's teasing, but I don't like that he puts Sam down.
"He's not overbearing. And no, it's nothing like that. I need to go home for the weekend. That's all." The lightness evaporates from his tone, replaced by concern.
"Is everything all right?"
"Yeah. My father broke his leg. He's fine, it's just that he was expecting some lambs and he can't get out with a broken leg to find and check on them, so…"
"Is that something you can do by yourself? Do you need some help?"
"Nah, I grew up on that farm, helping him until I was old enough to do things by myself. I'll be fine. But thank you for asking." What a great guy! Dammit!
"Well, if you need some help, you know where to find me."
"Thanks, but I could never ask you to do that."
"Mercedes, please ," he begins. The way he says my name makes my stomach squeeze . It sounds so much like it did last night. Was it his lips I kissed? His touch I felt? "Ask. If you need help, I want to know."
"Okay," I say, already feeling a bit breathless. Too breathless to argue, anyway. "I will."
"Good. I'll keep an eye on the place until you get back. Give me a call when you arrive."
"Will do. Thanks, Cam."
"You bet."
The brothers alternate taking up space in my head, like they so often do, as I await April. I just don't know when it will get any easier with them. Or even if it will. I'm still preoccupied when I hear a horn honking and someone shouting my name at the top of her lungs. It's April. "No effin' way," I say under my breath as I make my way to her car. She's standing in the driver's seat, hanging out the sunroof. By the time I get to her, she's smiling like an escaped mental patient.
"Bet you thought I'd get lost, didn't you?" I say nothing. I totally thought she'd get lost. In fact, I'd have guaranteed it. Of course, I'd have been wrong. Maybe that's my new streak— being wrong. Maybe I'm wrong about a lot of things. Things I'd love to be wrong about. If only I could be that lucky… April doesn't wait long to stir up interesting conversation.
"So, did you take the penis challenge?"
"April!"
"Mercedes! You better have news for me. And details. It's been a while for me."
"Yeah, right. What's 'a while'? A week?" She glances at me, clearly horror -stricken.
"Good God, no! It's only been four days. But I've got needs."
"April, I'm pretty sure you're a freak of nature."
"Heavy on the freak, sweetie," she adds cheekily. I laugh.
That's one thing about April . She doesn't try to hide who she is or what she likes. She owns her every wart and pimple with pride. And she wears them each flawlessly.
"You would die of boredom in my body."
"No, I'd take that young thing out for a spin and liven things up a little." I roll my eyes.
"I'm sure you would . You'd have me screwing my way through greater Atlanta."
"Breakin' hearts and blowin' minds! Or blowin' something," she says with a devilish wink.
"Oh, Lord!" I shake my head. She's incorrigible. She's also practically impossible to insult. Obviously.
"Now, stop changing the subject. Did you do it?" I can't hide the smile that tugs at my lips. She's too observant. She points animatedly at me. "You did! You did! How was it? Which one was better? And when will the other one be coming to visit me?"
"Well, that's the thing. I'm not exactly sure which one I slept with." I cringe when I see her turn wide, shocked eyes on me. April also happens to be nearly unshockable. The fact that I've managed it can't possibly be a good sign.
"How does that even happen?" I go through the story. The short, less detailed version, of course. When I'm finished, she starts laughing. Hard.
"Well, you know what you have to do now, right?"
"I'm not asking them, if that's what you're about to suggest."
"Oh, hell no. I was just gonna say you have to sleep with them both now. It's the only way you'll be able to tell who owns the enchanted tongue." April turns a wicked smile on me. "Oh, poor you. Forced to have vagina-exploding sex with hot twins. Oh, please no! Anything but that!"
"If it were just that, it'd be fine, but you know I can't… I don't…" I'm picking at my fingernails, but still, from the corner of my eye, I see April look at me.
"This isn't about that jackhole Gabe, is it?"
"You know Gabe has nothing to do with—"
"Bullshit! Merce, you've got to get over that. Just because a guy looks or dresses or acts a certain way doesn't mean he's just like Gabe. And, by the same token, just because a guy doesn't look, dress, or act like him doesn't mean he's not. You can't judge all books by that emotionally stunted, dimwitted, tiny-dicked prick's cover. You can't stop taking chances in life just because you got burned."
I think of my earlier decision to take the risk with Sam. But I also think of how amazingly supportive and considerate Cam was when I called. If April's right, despite their outward appearances, either one could be Gabe all over again. But how will I ever know which one is and which one isn't? Or maybe they both are. Go with your gut. Go with what you know. Cam is the good guy. Sam is the bad boy. Bad boys don't change their spots. But Cam is taken. Sam is not. Cam is offering me nothing. Sam wants to be honest and give me what he's capable of. Is it worth it to have either of them in my life? Or would I be better off to turn my back on both of them? And run. Sensing my mood, April changes the subject to a much less upsetting one —sex toys. Oh, April!
I'm pretty shocked when I walk through the front door and see a hospital bed in the living room. My heart drops onto the hardwood with a thud only I can hear. When I see my father sitting in his favorite old green recliner with his white -casted leg resting on a pillow, I feel minimally relieved, albeit still confused. The cast is not on the lower half of his leg, like I expected. It goes all the way up to his hip. My father broke his femur. And no one told me. I drop my bags on the floor and go straight to him, hands on hips, fully armed with righteous indignation.
"And you couldn't have called to tell me? You let me find out days later from April, of all people?"
I can see by the look in his hazel eyes that he's slipping into feather-smoothing mode. It's that desire to avoid confrontation that eventually drove my mother to leave and find greener , stronger pastures. And richer pastures. And more successful pastures. Basically any other pasture than the one she was grazing in. The cow! Sometimes it's all I can do not to hate her.
"Now, punk," he begins, using my childhood pet name, the one that always turns me to putty in his hands. "You know I'd never keep something from you unless I knew it was best for you. You've got so much on your plate with this new job and with your last year of school and living with your cousin, I would never want to add to your load. Try to see it from my perspective," he finishes sweetly. It's impossible to be mad when he does this. I must admit it can be very frustrating, though. I drop to my knees at his feet.
"Dad, you should've called."
"Merce, there's nothing you could've done . Except worry. And now you're missing work. Because of me."
"It's not a big deal. April mentioned the lambs. I'll get them squared away and be back to work in no time."
He closes his eyes and leans his head back, rolling it back and forth over the headrest in exasperation. He says nothing for a few seconds, effectively ending this portion of the conversation. It's another frustrating habit of his. He just stops. Stops talking, stops discussing. Just… stops. I notice a few more gray hairs at his temples than I'd seen last time. And it seems the brackets that frame his mouth are deeper. Today, he looks so much older than his forty-six years. His hard, disappointing life has always taken a toll. And now it's showing.
"What can I do to help, Dad? I'm here, so you might as well put me to work. How are the books?" He doesn't look at me, but he answers.
"The books are fine. I've been having Jolene help me with them in between your visits." I grit my teeth. Jolene thinks she's an accountant. Only she's not. Not by a long shot. I'm sure there's a mess to clean up. I feel a sigh coming on, so I change the subject.
"What about the house? Is there anything that needs doing around here?" Finally, he raises his head and looks at me. There's humor in his eyes.
"I'm a grown man, Merce. I know how to make do without my daughter here to take care of me." I roll my eyes.
"I know that, Dad. That's not what I'm saying and you know it." He reaches forward and grabs a chunk of hair near my ear. He tugs on it, just like he used to tug on my pigtails when I was little.
"I knew what you meant. But I also know you think you have to take care of me, especially since your mother left. But you don't, hon. It would kill me to see you put your life on hold to come back here. Go find a better life somewhere else. That's what would make me happy."
"But, Dad, I don't—"
"I know you, Mercedes Renee. I raised you. I know what you're planning and how you think. And I'm asking you not to do this. Just leave me be in this life. There's something different out there for you. Something better."
"Dad, I love these sheep and this farm. You know that."
"I'm not saying you don't. And we'll always be here for you to come visit. And one day, when I'm gone, this will all be yours, to do with as you like. But for now, it's mine. My problem, my life, my worry. Not yours. Your worry is to graduate and get a good job so you can buy your old man out ten times over. Then maybe I'll think about letting you come back home. How's that sound?"
I know what he's doing, what he's getting at. And I understand it. I understand guilt. But when I nod my head and smile in agreement, it's only for his benefit. What he doesn't know is that I will never leave him like she did. Never. I'll never choose a cushy life of means over the people I love. Never.
"Now, since you're already here, I have a favor. Well, two, actually."
"Name it."
"I've got all the fixin's for chuckwagon beans. Will you put some on for supper?"
"They're your favorite. Of course I will."
"Good girl." He smiles at me for a few seconds, then turns his attention back to the show he was watching on television.
"Dad?"
"Huh?" he asks, looking back at me, eyebrows raised.
"What was the second favor?" He frowns for a second, and then his face lights up.
"Oh! Oh, right. April and Tad are wanting you to come by tonight for your belated farewell party." I start shaking my head.
"I'm not leaving you to go to a—"
"Yes, you are. The game comes on tonight. I'd like to watch it in peace while you have some laughs with your friends. Is that too much for a wounded old man to ask of his daughter?" I snort.
"Like I'm gonna say no after you put it that way."
Again, I know what he's doing. And why. But I'll go along with this one, only because I know how much he loves football and he genuinely probably wants to watch it by himself, without me fussing about his blood pressure when he gets all worked up and yells at the screen. His smile is satisfied when he turns back to the television a second time. This time, I leave him to go start supper.
A series of whistles greet me as I walk through the door at Tad's, making me tug self-consciously at my skirt. That's the bad thing about not having time to pack a bag. It leaves me stuck with the clothes in my closet at home, clothes I outgrew a couple of years ago. My black skirt is shorter than I'd like, and the T-shirt I'm wearing with it is a bit more… formfitting than it needs to be, not to mention I don't ever remember it showing so much belly. If I weren't an adult, Dad probably wouldn't have let me leave the house until I changed. Unfortunately, yoga pants or cut-off jean shorts with paint on them were my only other options, so short skirt and tight shirt it is. It doesn't take me long to settle into the comfort of the familiar. Drinks flow freely and there's more of a party atmosphere than usual. It's not long before my head is spinning happily, warning me I need to slow down on the drinks. I'm laughing with April, who took the shift off to sit on the other side of the bar with me tonight, when I see the door open behind her. My heart squeezes painfully when I see my ex, Gabe, walk in with his girlfriend, Lisa, on his arm. He looks the same as always—dangerously handsome with his jet-black hair, pale blue eyes, and cocky, to-die -for smile. He even has the same issues as before—a girl on his arm and a wandering eye. He doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's checking out other girls. And Lisa, God love her, she just pretends not to notice. Talk about dysfunction! April, having noticed my silent, openmouthed stare, turns to look.
"Oh sweet heaven, who let that bastard in?" She turns and starts to slide off her stool as if to rectify the situation. Reaching out, I put my hand on her arm, stopping her from getting up.
"Don't. It's not worth it."
Actually, I'd love to see her kick his ass out, but it would only make me look more pathetic, so I'd rather just drink enough to drown him out of my consciousness. I signal Tad, who is working a rare shift behind the bar tonight to cover for April's absence, and ask him to bring us another round of shots. That's the fastest way to oblivion as far as I'm concerned. And oblivion is looking very appealing at the moment. April and I toast one another and down the shots. I feel the burn of eighty proof all the way to my stomach, where it kindles a warm fire. She whoops excitedly and I laugh at her, but my eyes can't help but stray back out to the crowd in search of Gabe. When they find him, he's sitting down at a tall table. Despite the girl at his side, his eyes find me. In them, there's recognition. And hunger, just like there always was. And I react instantly, just like I always did. Only now, the reaction dies almost immediately, the flames doused by the cold waters of reality and how he's here tonight with Lisa rather than with me. I'd listened to his lies for months, falling more deeply in love with him by the day, when all the while, he'd had a girlfriend he'd never had any intention of leaving. The worst part was, they have a son together. They were basically a family. And even though they'd never actually split, he'd made me feel like a homewrecker. He'd made me feel like my mother. And for that, he doesn't deserve my forgiveness.
I try to enjoy the rest of the night, enjoy a farewell gathering with my old friends and coworkers, but my mood continues to darken. Every drink and every laugh seems tainted, tainted by the presence of the umpteenth bad boy I'd fallen for. April orders us another round of shots, which I gladly accept even though I know I'm pushing my limit, and we toss them back amid the cheers of our friends. The alcohol is just starting to burn off my bitterness when someone at the door catches my attention again. This time, Sam strolls in.
SAM
I'm not surprised by anything I see when I walk into the sports bar. It's typical, with its dozen or so televisions lining the walls and a collection of tables in the center of the room facing them. The bar is to my right followed by four pool tables, crouching under long Budweiser lights. Beyond those is a small dance floor. Within seconds, my eyes find Mercedes. It's like they're drawn to her. When I see her sitting at the bar with her friends, I know two things are true. One, she'll be drunk if she doesn't stop drinking soon. And two, I'll have that skirt pushed up around her waist before the night's out.
When her eyes meet mine, I see resistance in them. I've seen it before, but I thought we'd pretty much moved past that. I can't help but wonder what has happened since this morning to set her back. There's an expletive resting on my tongue, but I bite it back and keep my face neutral as I walk toward her. When I stop beside her, I watch her straighten her spine and tip her chin up. Yep, resistance. And she's determined. Even though it frustrates me, I find it pretty freakin' hot. It makes me want to make her want me despite all the reasons she thinks she shouldn't. So I will. Again.
"I would ask if I could buy you a drink, but it looks like you've already had a few too many."
"I already have one father. He's at home nursing a broken leg, thank you very much," she says with a bit of a slur.
"No offense intended. Just an observation." I signal the bartender, who is watching me with nothing less than hostility. "Jack. Neat."
I'm in her territory now. She's among her friends and they're obviously very protective. The strange thing is that they'd feel the need to protect her from me, even though they've never met me. Damn, I guess she really does have a weakness for a certain type. And all her friends must know about it. It irritates the shit out of me that she's pigeonholed me, as have all her friends. There's nothing I hate worse than to be judged unfairly. Not one of these people knows the first thing about me, Mercedes included. It would be interesting to see how she'd react if she knew everything, knew the truth. In just a few short sentences, I could give her every reason in the world to run away from me as far and as fast as she can. But I won't. Because I'm feeling selfish. I don't want her to run away yet. I need more from her first. A lot more.
When the bartender sets a glass in front of me, I toss him a ten and down my drink in one gulp. I nod for another and slide my empty glass back. I make a point to ignore Mercedes as I stand awaiting my next drink. Finally, she speaks. I almost smile. I wanted her to make the first move. And she did.
"What are you doing here?" she asks, scooting off her stool to stand beside me. I wonder if it makes her feel more in control, more in charge to be standing. Or maybe it makes her feel safer, like she can get away quickly. Run.
"I thought you might need some help. So I came to help." I see her eyes flicker to her right for a split second before returning to me.
"How did you find me?"
"My brother."
"No, I mean how did you know I was here?"
"Your father."
"You went to my house?" She's obviously perturbed about that.
"Yes. Is that a problem? Are visitors not welcome at your secret lair?" I watch, fascinated, as anger stiffens her muscles. She props her fists on her hips. Damn, she's fiery.
"Did it ever occur to you that maybe you should wait until you're invited?"
"If I were invited, then I wouldn't be volunteering, now would I?"
Even in her agitation, I see her glance for the second time to a table at her right. I follow her gaze to a guy sitting there with a mousy-looking girl. The way he's watching Mercedes leaves me with no doubt that they know each other. And very well by the looks of it. I take a step closer to Mercedes and lean down to ask quietly[TW1] ,
"Is that the guy?" She jerks her head toward me, guiltily. Angrily.
"What guy? What are you talking about?"
"Oh come on. Admit it. That's the last bad boy, isn't it?" I look back at the douche who is inadvertently making my life more difficult. " Looks like he recovered from the wood chipper pretty well. Want me to kick his ass?" I look back to Mercedes. A range of emotions flit across her face, beginning with confusion and ending in something close to humor, to a smile.
"No, I don't want you to kick his ass."
"You sure? Because I specialize in deassholization." This time she smiles.
"Deassholization?"
"Yeah. Just think of me as the Orkin man of assholes— putting assholes in their place."
"Well, I appreciate the offer, but he's not worth it." I reach forward to tuck a stray lock of raven hair behind her ear.
"If he hurt you, he's worth it."
I really don't think Mercedes knows how expressive her face is. I can plainly see that she's affected by me, that she likes me and probably wouldn't argue if I stripped her down and licked her from head to toe, even though letting me would be against her better judgment. But I can also see that she doesn't want to feel those things. She wants to be ambivalent, unaffected. She wants to be impervious to me. Only she's not. And, if I can help it, she won't be, either. I recognize the lively song that comes on. "Ho Hey" would never be played at my club, mainly because it is a club, but I like it nonetheless. The words have me feeling a little sentimental toward the confused and gun-shy Mercedes.
"Come on , then," I say, taking Mercedes by the hand. "Let's go rub it in." I reach for her friend's hand, too, the lady who's been watching me since I walked in, like I'm a potential snack. "I'm Sam, Mercedes's boss. Come dance with us."
"April," she declares with a broad smile. She wraps her fingers around mine, giving me zero resistance. As I tow the girls across the bar toward the dance floor, April is drumming up attention, which is perfect for what I have in mind. "Come on, y'all. Let's give Merce a farewell dance she'll never forget."
Within seconds, there are two dozen of Mercedes's biggest fans surrounding us on the dance floor, singing along and showering her with smiles and hugs and attention. I can see her face light up, her demeanor relax. She looks back at that other guy only one time, and even then, it's almost an absentminded kind of thing. For the most part, her focus is concentrated on the people around her. And on me. I can see the ice melting each time her eyes meet mine. When I smile, she smiles in return. When I reach for her hand, she laces her fingers through mine. And when she turns to me, it looks as though, at least for the time being, she's stopped lumping me in with the d-bag who she wishes had fallen into a wood chipper. Her eyes are sparkling and happy, and she appears to be genuinely pleased.
"Thank you for this. You're a very talented agent of deassholization."
"Oh, this isn't my method of choice. Trust me. But if it makes you happy, then I'm okay with it." She looks away shyly, but her eyes come back to mine, unable to resist the magnetism that's between us.
"Well, it makes me very happy."
"Then let's finish him off, shall we?"
She quirks one eyebrow and smiles. I see the daring girl rise to the surface. She's feeling like she can take on the world, conquer anything including an ex-boyfriend. She's ready to jump. And I'm ready to catch her.
"What did you have in mind?" she asks coyly, licking her lips.
I look around and locate the signage for the bathrooms. I smile down at her, taking both her hands in mine and backing out of the crowd, toward the restrooms. I don't take my eyes off her. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are wide with excitement. She doesn't know what I have in mind, but I think she thinks it's risqué. And she seems okay with that, which makes me even bolder. Not once does she glance at that guy's table as we pass, but I see him from the corner of my eye. He says something to the girl he's with and he gets up to leave. He looks angry, which makes me smirk.
When we reach the short hallway outside the bathrooms, I pull Mercedes to me and kiss her. She's warm and pliant, and within seconds, she's working her fingers into my hair and pressing her chest against mine. I was only planning to kiss her where that asshole could see us, but Mercedes isn't thinking about him anymore. Now neither am I. The music fades around us when she bends her knee and rubs her leg against mine. I reach down and run my fingers up the smooth skin of her calf. She reaches down and puts her hand on top of mine, guiding it to her hip. Happy to oblige, I cup her perfect ass in my hand and squeeze. Her moan tickles along my tongue and vibrates to my lower half to stiffen everything from my waist down. When the kiss that was supposed to be more a tease than anything else turns rough with passion, I stop thinking about everything but the girl in my arms.
I reach behind me and twist the doorknob so we can slip inside the bathroom. I pause only for a second to catch my breath and look around. We're in the ladies' room. I lock the door and pull Mercedes back to me, reaching down to drag my hands up the backs of her legs, bringing her skirt up as I go. Her panties leave the majority of her butt uncovered. I stroke the smooth skin with my palms, running my fingers along the crease between her cheeks, then pulling her hips snugly against mine. I want her to feel what she does to me. She's panting into my mouth, and her fingers start fumbling with my belt buckle. Damn, why did I wear a belt? I help her get my jeans undone. I'm just about to reach inside them when she pushes my hand aside, wrapping her fingers around me and squeezing. I just about explode when she strokes me all the way to the tip and back down again, her tongue licking against mine in the same slow movement. I grab her wrist and stop her. Mercedes looks up at me with passion-dark eyes and a flushed face. Her lips are red and swollen and my only thought is of them wrapped around me, sucking me. But not tonight. Tonight is all about Mercedes— beautiful, sexy, courageous, passionate Mercedes. Tonight, I want her to see what I see.
I turn her toward the sink, toward the only mirror in the room. She looks confused when she meets my eyes in the reflection.
"Look at yourself," I say. I pull her long hair over one shoulder and place a kiss in the bend of her neck. She tilts her head to give me better access. "You're the most beautiful girl in the bar." I run my hands across the exposed part of her stomach and up under her shirt. Her nipples are hard against my palms. I pinch them through the thin material of her bra, never taking my eyes off hers. Her lips part and she moans. "So sexy," I say, kneading her breasts, grinding my hips against the round globes of her ass. I take one hand and move it down her stomach. Her skirt is still hiked up and I can see the white material of her panties. I run my fingers between her legs. I groan when I realize the soft cotton is soaked.
"Any man would die to have this for even one night," I say, pushing the material to the side and sliding my finger inside her. She closes her eyes and leans her head back against my shoulder. "No, I want you to watch. I want you to see what I see. I want us both to watch you come for me." Obediently, she opens her eyes, her hips moving against my hand, her lips parted deliciously. I lean slightly away from her and place my hand in the center of her back. Gently I apply pressure until she bends forward, instinctively putting her hands on either edge of the sink to brace herself. Still watching her, I curl my fingers in the elastic of her panties and I pull them down to herknees. Caressing one smooth ass cheek, I stick a finger from my other hand in my mouth then run it down between her legs, pushing it deep inside her. She moans and I feel her hot body squeeze me. Taking her by the hips, I hold her still as I guide my tip into her. I bite back a moan at how hot and wet she feels, how her body sucks at me, pulling me farther in. Her eyes are shifted downward, as if she'd like to watch me slide into her. When I don't move, hers eyes return to mine in the mirror. I nod and see them shift to her own reflection. And then I thrust into her, hard and deep. Her mouth drops open and her eyes flutter shut in pleasure. I rest inside her, reveling in how tight she is, pausing so I don't come too fast. She opens her eyes and leans forward, causing me to slide out of her almost completely. Then, just as slowly, she leans back, taking me fully inside her. With my hands gripping her hips, I urge her into a slow tempo that I can sustain without getting off too soon. When she finds her rhythm, I reach around to slide my fingers between her slick folds, my fingertip moving easily over the hard nub there. She starts to make sexy little noises as I make small circles over her. She practically purrs when I find the spot she likes best. After only a couple of minutes, I feel her body tightening around me. I know she's getting close. I increase my pace and tease her more insistently with my finger. When her breathing becomes more erratic and her pleasure becomes more vocal, I lean forward and fist my free hand in her hair, gently tipping her head back. I speak into her ear.
"I want you to watch yourself come all over me, Mercedes. See how beautiful and sexy you are. See why I want you so much."
Relentlessly, I drive her up and up and up until she cries out, biting her lip to keep quiet, her sweet body racked with wave after wave of her orgasm. I thrust into her until I can't take it anymore. I feel my own climax coming and I meet her eyes once more in the mirror. I can barely breathe past my racing heart.
"See what you do to me? I want your eyes on mine when my come is running down your legs."
My words turn her on. I feel her spasm around me, squeezing me tight and pushing me over the edge. With a groan, I feel my every muscle stiffen as I shoot come deep inside her. Although my instinct is to close them, I force my eyes to stay open, to remain trained on hers. She doesn't look away. Not for one second. As I move slowly in and out of her in the aftermath, I feel warm liquid squeezing out around me, soaking the tops of my thighs. I'm sure she can feel it, too. I grind my hips into her and she smiles. Yeah, you can feel that, can't you, baby? And better yet, you like it. My best discovery of the night? Mercedes is hiding a dirty girl beneath that shy, quietly sexy exterior. And I'm going to set her free.
MERCEDES
Sam can't keep his hands off me as I try to put myself back together and exit the bathroom. I know I should be worried or embarrassed, and tomorrow I probably will be. But right now, I'm in awe. I've never had such a mind-blowing, body-rocking sexual experience in all my life. On the one hand, I think it must've been Cam that came to my room. Based on this time with Sam… holy shit! But then again, Sam didn't ask about my birth control situation tonight, which makes me think he already knew. And that would mean it was him that came to my room. But I have to keep in mind that something impulsive like this is probably very much in character for Sam. A guy like him probably assumes if I don't speak up, I've got birth control taken care of. Once again, my revelation only leaves me with more questions. But at the moment, I don't care. I'm consumed by Sam. I still feel his touch. I still smell his scent. I still… feel him and it's a feeling I hope never goes away. I can't get him out of my head and, for right now, I'm okay with that. I'm straightening my hair for the second time while Sam stands behind me, rubbing my bare stomach. My panties are still damp and, at this rate, they'll never be dry. He smooths my hair, then pulls it away from my neck and starts nibbling.
"Do we have to go back out there?" I can't help but giggle.
"I'm sure there are people who will need to use the restroom before the night's out."
"Screw 'em. There's another one." I laugh outright.
"Where are you staying?" He looks up and meets my eyes in the mirror.
"I'll find a hotel somewhere. Why? You wanna come visit me?" Um, hell yes! I think that, but I don't say it. Rather, I turn around in his arms.
"Look, you came all the way out here to help me. The least I can do is give you a place to stay. But my dad will be there, so…"
"So we have to be quiet," he whispers, waggling his eyebrows comically. I just smile. I neither confirm nor deny that there will be more sex. But there will be. If he tries even a little, there definitely will be. Slowly, we make our way to the door. I take a deep breath and flip open the lock.
"You go first. I'll wait a few minutes. That way it won't be too obvious," he says considerately. I grin.
"Um, I'm sure there will be very little doubt, but that's sweet of you to do, anyway."
I turn to pull open the door, but Sam puts his hand against it. When I look back, his lips crush mine in a fiery kiss that has me rethinking his suggestion that we stay in the bathroom. But, alas, we can't. The rest of the night proves to be one of the best I've spent in a long, long time. Sam stays close to me, always touching me in some small way, setting my skin on fire. We share lots of knowing smiles and glances that keep the moments in the bathroom fresh in my mind. Not that they wouldn't be otherwise. I'm pretty sure they'll still be fresh in my mind when I'm a hundred and nine and can't remember where I put my teeth. But there will always be Sam… in the bathroom… in the mirror… Neither of us drinks much more. I think we're both content to keep our wits about us and not ruin the magic of the night.
When everyone is all partied out, Sam walks me to April's car so I can drive her home. I'm more than sober now. And happily so.
"I'll follow you so I can drive you back home."
"Okay,"
I agree with a wide smile. I can't seem to stop smiling. He gives me a quick peck on the lips and then we part ways. All the way to April's house, I find myself looking in the rearview mirror at the single headlight behind me. And smiling. Of course, smiling.
"Well, I guess we know which one you pick, Merce," April slurs from the passenger seat. I jump. We're almost to her house and this is the first time she's spoken. I thought she was passed out.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because he's a bad boy. And we both know you always pick the bad boy."
Her head slumps to the side after she deals me this blow. I do always pick the bad boy. And I do always live to regret it. Am I making a huge mistake with Sam? Her words haunt me from the time I drop her off to the time I walk Sam to his room after our trip home on the motorcycle. I leave him for the night after a very chaste kiss. He stops me with a hand to my shoulder.
"What's wrong?" he whispers. I'm sure he's curious why I'm going to bed without… him. He saw my father fast asleep on his bed downstairs. I try to put some heart into my smile, but I imagine that I fail miserably.
"Nothing. I'll see you in the morning. Sleep well." I go to my own room, closing the door snugly behind me and then getting ready for bed. After more than an hour has passed and I'm still not asleep, I decide to take a shower, hoping it will refresh and relax me. Maybe it's the grime of the bar that's keeping me awake. I'm standing beneath the hot spray of water, trying not to think too much, when I hear the metal curtain rings slide along the shower rod. I wipe my eyes and look up to see Sam stepping into the shower. I can't help but go a little ga-ga over his naked body. It's even more perfect than I could've imagined. His chest is wide and tan and flawless but for the tattoo on his left pectoral. His stomach is flat and rippling with muscles. His legs are long and strong. Not one inch of him disappoints, including the several hard, proud, impressive ones that make my insides quiver. I know I'm staring, but I can't help it. Just the sight of him makes me wet and ready. A finger beneath my chin tilts my face up. Sam's expression is serious and sweet, his face devastatingly handsome.
"You worry too much. Can't you just trust me?" His eyes are boring holes into mine. I want him so much, but I just don't know that giving in to him is the smart thing to do. If only he were more like Cam…
"I don't know," I answer him honestly. He nods in acceptance.
"You'll learn to. I promise."
And then he kisses me. It's a slow, deep kiss that carries meaning and emotion, neither of which I know how to interpret. I pull away to speak, but he puts his finger over my lips.
"Shhh, just let me love you, okay? Don't think. Just feel."
His sinfully eyes are fathomless, but earnest. After several seconds, I nod. He smiles, then kisses me again. Tenderly. With his lips and his tongue, he licks the water from my skin— from my neck, from my nipples, from my stomach. He kneels between my legs and brings me to the brink of ecstasy twice, stopping both times as if he's waiting for something. When I'm nearly ready to explode a third time, he stands and kisses me again, grabbing the tops of my thighs and picking me up to press me against the shower wall. He lowers me onto his shaft, his tongue thrusting into my mouth, mimicking the movements of his body. We climax together. He swallows my moans, no doubt in deference to my sleeping father. When we're done, and he's still buried inside me, he turns with me in his arms and holds me beneath the shower spray. The warm, massaging fingers of the water soothe me. I nearly fall asleep with my head on his shoulder. Letting me down, Sam turns off the water and grabs the towel I laid out for myself. He dries me from head to toe and then carries me to the next room and puts me to bed, naked.
"Go to sleep," he says softly. "Don't think anymore. I'll see you in the morning."
And then he's gone.
And I go to sleep.