Thank you so much, dear friends.
Standard disclaimer.
Sam held onto Mercedes, as tightly as he could, twirling her all around the room.
"Mr. Evans," she said, quite annoyed. "My date went to get me a cup of punch."
"I know," he said, grinning down at her. "I watched him leave, then I pounced on you." She had to look up at him and that made her feel small and vulnerable.
"Then, that was incredibly rude." He grinned and pulled her even closer.
"Did you expect any better from me?" She stifled a rude reply.
'I will not lower myself to his level.'
He smiled down at her and she inhaled the sweet smell of him, noting his perfect jawline and his gorgeous face.
His big hand enveloped hers and his strong arms held her even tighter, as she struggled to put a little distance between them.
"What will Lieutenant Fortenbury think? she asked.
"What do I care?" was his reply. He whirled her about the floor smoothly. "Even if he takes offense, what can he do about it?"
She glanced over to one side, where the officer was standing with two cups of punch, looking helpless and pathetic. Of course, if some guy had snatched Sam Evans' date, he'd confront the man and take her back.
She looked at the wilting Buford and sighed. He would never confront anyone…but that could also show how civilized he was.
Everyone seemed to be watching them and looking towards Buford and smiling.
She threw the officer a silent plea with her eyes.
He put the two cups of punch on the table, squared his thin shoulders, and marched across the floor, to tap Sam on his arm.
"I…I'm cutting in." His voice came out as a squeak. Sam glanced down at him.
"No, you're not, the lady is dancing with me." Then he whirled her away, leaving the shorter man to look on defeatedly.
"That was rude," Mercedes said.
"He could challenge me to a fight out back, but I don't think he wants to dance with you that badly. I do."
He shrugged his big, wide shoulders. His body felt so warm against hers, she suddenly imagined they were both naked.
'What on earth am I thinking?' She shook her head.
"Fighting solves nothing."
"A man who wants a woman will fight for her." His fingers seemed to tighten on her waist.
"Buford is a civilized gentleman," she defended him.
"Uh-huh. So, let him stand on the sidelines with the two cups of punch."
The Town Beautification Committee, seemed to be mesmerized on the sidelines and most of the ladies looked envious, as the couple danced passed them.
"Why are you doing this?" Mercedes demanded. "Do you take me for a fool?" He couldn't possibly be attracted to a plain thing like her. He gave her a hard stare.
"Anyone who would take you for a fool, Miss Mercy, is underestimatin' you. You're clever, smart and stubborn…just like me."
She wouldn't admit it, but his southern accent turned her on.
"I'm nothing like you. You scoundrel."
"Scoundrel?" He grinned down at her. "That I am."
They were near the opened French doors and abruptly, he twirled her out onto the balcony.
The moon was full and the June breeze pleasantly cool, although the night was warm.
A soft whisper of roses, wafted by on the wind.
The heat of Sam's body and the solidness of it, made her think about him. He was all male. He was a handsome, beautiful, threat to any woman.
There was something magnetic about him…something primal.
He stopped and continued to hold her, as if she was his.
Her heart fluttered and her thoughts began to turn carnal.
"Take me back inside, this instant," she demanded.
"Are you sure you want to do that?"
He smiled and the hand enveloping hers, felt strong and masculine. He held her so tightly, she suspected he could feel her nipples pressing into the fabric of his jacket.
"Certainly. Everyone inside will be gossiping and Lieutenant Fortenbury…"
"Will do what? You think Junior will come out here and challenge me?"
Of course, he wouldn't. No man in his right mind would challenge Sam Evans.
He was looking down at her in a way that made her so nervous, her hands began to sweat.
Why had she never noticed how full and sensual his lips are?
"Please," she whispered and then wasn't sure what she was pleading for. But he surprised her, letting go of her and bowing low.
"I'm a sucker for a lady's pleas. Allow me to escort you back inside, Miss Mercy."
He hadn't kissed her.
She didn't know whether to be relieved or upset. After all, she'd never been really kissed. A peck on the lips didn't count.
As she took his arm, she imagined him claiming her mouth as his own, kissing her deeply and thoroughly, while his tongue played along her lips, begging them to open, as his big hand reached to caress the front of her low-cut dress and then slip inside.
"You're trembling." He sounded genuinely concerned, as he led her through the French doors.
"I…I…it was cold out there." She felt like an idiot.
"Of course. It's always freezing in June."
He smiled ever so slightly.
Was he mocking her? Seemed so. And everyone seemed to be watching them. And did she see several ladies lean over to whisper to other women?
The Town Beautification Committee almost looked to be jumping up and down, grinning like a pack of idiots. But she can't imagine why.
"See what you've done? You've ruined my reputation." He led her across the floor.
"It takes a little more, than two minutes on the balcony to ruin a lady's reputation. You're so innocent, Miss Mercy."
She felt humiliated.
No man had ever desired her, so of course her reputation was as intact as her virginity. But she kept that to herself and schooled her features.
Sam led her back to her table and bowed again.
"Thank you so much, Miss Jones. It was my pleasure." He nodded to the major's wife. "You're looking lovely tonight, Mrs. Bottoms."
The older woman giggled like a schoolgirl, as Sam turned and walked away.
"Oh, Mercedes, we all saw you go outside with him. Half the women in here, would give anything to have that handsome man, ask them to dance."
Mercedes looked around. Sure enough, most of the women in the crowded room were looking at Sam and sighing, like hungry hounds after a bone.
The Lieutenant hurried to the table.
"Are you alright, Miss Mercedes?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" She was annoyed with the timid man.
"He's such a masher," Buford said, and then, "Good thing I'm a gentleman who can hold my temper, or I might have wiped up the floor with him. Of course, I dare not cause a ruckus at the major's party."
No one needed to tell Mercedes, she knew Sam would've mangled him. She managed to smile and say,
"That's very thoughtful of you, Buford."
He asked her to dance again and she nodded, watching miserably, as Sam danced with one lady after another.
If she hadn't protested so much, maybe something would've happened out there on the balcony, she thought.
That rascal was virile, masculine, handsome and dangerous, which made him twice as appealing.
She noted he danced with many ladies, but he hadn't danced anyone else out the French doors.
When they passed him on the dance floor, he winked boldly at her.
"The nerve of him. Did you see that?" she seethed.
"Very ill-mannered," Buford said. "What would you like me to do? Fight him like some rough, low-class Texan?"
'A man will fight for the woman he wants.'
"No, of course not, Buford. He'd wipe up the floor with you anyway," she honestly said.
"What?"
"Nothing. Let's talk about something else. No need to let that scoundrel ruin our evening."
"Alright, let's."
He began talking about his fine family, his future in Washington, D.C. when he gets transferred, his tuba and his blue-blooded background.
Mercedes stifled a yawn. Buford was incredibly boring…he only wanted to talk about himself.
She glanced towards Sam's table. He must have said something witty, because the girls were laughing and leaning closer to him. And the women at the other tables, kept looking his way.
She reminded herself, what a wonderful pedigree Lieutenant Fortenbury had, and all about his irreputable high school background. That was important…wasn't it?
Finally, the dance ended.
The girls from the Lily, stood gossiping and laughing, as Sam paused and turned, heading towards her table.
As Sam was approaching, Buford said,
"I can borrow the major's car. I'd like to take you home, Miss Mercedes…"
"Nope," Sam appeared at the table grinning. "I'll see her home."
"Isn't that up to Miss Jones?"
The two men glared at each other, then both looked at her.
Mercedes was speechless, never actually having men, practically dueling over her before. If there was a fight, Sam would turn the officer inside out, she knew it.
"Uh…Buford, I think I'll ride home with Mr. Evans. I wouldn't want to put you to any trouble."
"It wouldn't be any trouble…"
"You heard the lady, sport," Sam said and took her elbow, steering her toward the door.
"You are being incredibly rude," Mercedes snapped.
"And you are being incredibly stupid," he drawled. "He's after your share of the Lily." They were outside now, walking in the darkness towards their ride.
"As are you," she shot back.
"Okay. You're right," he grinned down at her. "But at least I'm honest about it and would pay you for it."
They were standing next to the car and the girls weren't there yet.
"Are you saying, no man would ever find me desirable enough to want me?" He was still holding onto her arm and now he pulled her to him.
"I didn't say that, Mercy."
They were standing so close, she could feel his warm breath on her face and smell his aftershave.
She stood there, looking up at that full sensual mouth, while her heart hammered in her chest.
'He's going to kiss me,' she thought. And she found herself holding her breath and starting up on her toes, to meet him half-way.
The moment was charged with electricity, as they stared into each other's eyes.
Just then, the sound of laughter and chatter of the girls could be heard, as they approached the car.
She pulled away from him, breathing hard. He looked a bit puzzled. "Miss Mercedes," Michele laughed. "The cowboy wants to date me exclusively. He says he wants to marry me."
"That's wonderful. I'm very happy for you."
"Congratulations," Sam said and turned to assist her and the other girls into the car. Mercedes took a deep breath.
"You don't congratulate a lady. You congratulate the man and offer best wishes to the lady." Sam scowled at her.
"You certainly know how to take the joy out of everything, don't you?"
"That congressman, Mr. Hudson, wants me to leave town with him tomorrow night," Rachel said. Sam smiled.
"Good for you, Rach. Just don't give away the milk until he buys the cow."
"Could you be any more crude?" Mercedes asked. He laughed.
"Course I could be, but I won't, in deference to the ladies." He turned to her. "Ready?"
'Ready for what?' The way he was looking at her, made her take a deep breath. She nodded.
"Here we go," he said. He put his big hand on the small of her back and helped her in. It felt as though his fingers were burning through her dress.
He closed the door and went around, to get in.
In the car, she felt as though he was sitting too close to her.
She felt perspiration break out on her skin.
Just before they pulled away, there was a knock at the car window. Buford stood forlornly on the outside, staring at them.
"Good night, Miss Jones," he politely said.
"Good night, Lieutenant." She favored him with a smile and a polite wave, as the window went back up and the car pulled away.
Sam snorted.
And she was immediately annoyed with him.
He had ruined her evening with Buford and made her feel emotions that she'd never felt before.
Mercedes was not used to dealing with emotions.
Listening to the heart, rather than the brain, was frowned on by her cold, distant mother. And sadly, she thought the same.
When they reached home, Sam helped them all out.
Mercedes almost ran up the steps to get inside. She didn't want to be left alone with him.
She hurried up the stairs and into her room, locked the door and leaned against it, breathing hard. She heard the girls passing her room, laughing and talking about their evening.
After a few minutes, it grew quiet and then, she heard Sam's heavier footsteps on the stairs.
She tensed and leaned against the bedpost.
No doubt, he was going to one of the girls' room, and any of them would let him in.
"Mercy?" he whispered against the door.
She jumped.
She hadn't expected this.
There was only a slab of wood between them…and the lock.
"Mercy?" he whispered again.
"W-what do you want?" she stammered.
"Do you even have to ask?"
She held her breath.
Her mind was awash with mixed emotions.
She knew very well, what that big male animal wanted. She remembered the way he had held her, out on the balcony, the heat and strength of him.
Then again at the car, when she was certain he was going to kiss her.
"Mercy?" He begged and sighed longingly.
She did not answer.
She had never even had the pleasure of a real kiss and now this man was offering…no…probably demanding something more.
Her hand trembled in mid-air, trying to decide what to do.
All she had to do, was unlock that door and let him in, to begin the most exciting adventure of her life.
'Mercedes, you're a fool, to think he might care for you,' she scolded herself. You know he's trying to seduce you, out of your share of the Lily and nothing else.
Tomorrow, he'd probably laugh about it with the other men.
As she hesitated, lost in her thoughts, the decision was made for her.
She heard him walk away from her door and she sighed, both with relief and regret.
He would take his passion to one of the other girls down the hall, and no doubt they wouldn't be clumsy and amateurish like she would…they would know how to please a man.
Instead, his footsteps seemed to move down the stairs.
'What?'
She unlocked the door, went out into the hall and looked down. She saw him go around the main hall, towards his room.
She stood there blinking.
He had gone to his room…alone.
For a split second, she almost ran down the stairs and into his room...into his arms and into his bed. She wanted to call out,
'Teach me. Teach me, please.'
Was she losing her mind?
She was no strumpet to throw away her virginity on him, she told herself.
Quickly, she returned to her own room, locked the door and leaned against it, breathing hard.
In her mind, she saw the two of them naked on her bed, in a violent thrashing of passion…covered in sweat…his hot mouth on her bare skin and his manhood driving deeply into her, over and over again.
The image and her own reaction to it horrified her.
She undressed and headed for the shower, to take a much needed cold bath.
Later, as she lay in bed, she pulled the covers up, even though it was a warm night.
'Naked and thrashing about, indeed.'
I don't know about you guys, but, Mercedes makes me so mad sometimes and that Buford...I can't aptly find a word to describe him...yet.