Thank you for your continued kind support. You guys are on the ball with this one, but I won't say anymore.
A special shout out to SamcedesOPT, thank you and welcome.
This is a super long chapter. I had to do so much rewriting with this one...I hope it makes sense.
Normally I won't bash another person's work, but the book leaves much to be desired. I'm sorry if I've caused any offense, but I'm just being honest.
I believe some of you will have mixed feelings about Sam, in this one...
Standard disclaimer.
Carmen returned from taking items to the kitchen and found Mercedes smiling to herself. She watched her for a few seconds and then politely asked,
"Miss, I gather your meeting went well?"
"Yes, it did, Carmen. The only drawback, was the call Reverend Lovejoy got, about more nosy politicians coming. It seems as though they want to close the fort."
"Major Bottoms won't like that."
"I know...the fort is one of the town's biggest attractions. Many people come to see it and tour it. It would put a dent in the town's coffers if they closed it."
"Mr. Sam will know what to do. He's on the town council and he's a leader among the men."
"Okay. I'll tell Mr. Evans about it. I imagine he'll want the mayor to call a meeting."
"When are they comin'?"
"July fourth," Mercedes said.
"That'll be here in no time. Looks like our little town is doomed."
"Not if Sam and I have anything to say about it," Mercedes declared. Carmen smiled to herself.
"Miss, as an engaged woman, don't you think it would be more proper, for you to rely on your fiancé?"
"What?"
Mercedes had completely forgotten about Buford.
She was ashamed, when she realized that and even more ashamed, she didn't have much confidence in his abilities.
"Oh, yes, of course, Carmen. You should spread word about the politicians…obviously, we can't have another raid…we've already done that…"
"Agreed. Those politicians can be mighty stupid, but I don't think they would fall for that again. We need to come up with something entirely different."
"That's true."
What about the July Fourth celebration?" Carmen asked. Mercedes shook her head.
"Somehow, it doesn't seem very important, now." Carmen frowned.
"Celebrations are always important to southerners, 'specially if there's plenty of beer."
"I gathered that. Maybe the local newspaper can get out a special edition, but in the meantime, the town council has some decisions to make."
"We'll all be waitin' to hear," Carmen said, and strode out of the kitchen.
Mercedes watched her go.
'This is a terrible mess. And just when the Lily is making a profit,' she thought.
She marched to Sam's room and knocked on the door.
"If it's time for lunch, I think I may drink mine, thank you very much," he shouted.
"Mr. Evans, come out here. This is serious..."
"What is it? Are you ladies stymied, on whether to serve sugar cookies, or gingersnaps, at the fourth of July celebrations?"
Mercedes decided she'd had enough.
She opened the door and marched in.
"We need to talk," she sternly said.
"About my pool table?" He frowned at her and leaned against the bedpost.
"Forget the pool table," she ordered. "We've got a serious problem."
"Don't I know it?" He complained. "Pink velvet and little ribbony doo-dads, are in my pool room."
From the front of the house, they heard Carmen ringing the bell for lunch, and the chatter of the two girls, as they came down the stairs, to serve.
"Sam, the reverend got a call a little while ago…more politicians are coming to town…I'm sure the mayor has heard, too."
"What?" His mouth dropped opened. She nodded.
"It's true. They'll be here July fourth. Apparently, the Congressional Budget Committee, still hasn't decided whether to close the fort or not. It seems, they're leaning towards closing it, though."
Sam swore under his breath.
"You know how many jobs are at stake here? And how much that would hurt our town's economy? The town might as well roll up its sidewalks and close down. The Lily won't survive either...as a whorehouse, or a hotel."
Mercedes winced at the word.
"And after we've worked so hard. I imagine the mayor will call a meeting. We're hoping you would have some fresh ideas."
"Me?" he asked, touching his chest. "Lady, you've destroyed my saloon, re-done my pool room without asking, and now you want me to come up with a bright idea? Why don't you ask your darlin' lieutenant?"
"He hasn't got anything at stake here?" He grinned at her.
"Sure, he does, sweets…just as soon, as he owns your half of the Texas Lily." Mercedes felt like slapping him.
"Damn you. I don't know why I bothered," she said. Enraged, she turned and marched out of his room.
Sam watched her go with mixed feelings.
He couldn't control her, and he couldn't seduce her.
He'd never met a woman like her. She was beginning to occupy his every waking thought. And that was driving him crazy.
Something had to happen, and soon.
The next night after dinner, the town council and many concerned townspeople, met in the dining room of the Texas Lily.
Mayor Pugsley, read the email aloud and looked around at the circle of anxious faces.
"That's the scope of it, folks. They are coming in on a train, the morning of the Fourth." Will scowled and ran his hand through his thick hair.
"Don't these people have things to do in Washington?"
"Not if they can find something better to do, especially if it involves a free trip and fun," Sam said. The major chewed his bottom lip.
"We can't do what we did last time, that's for sure."
"I know," Sam said. He frowned and looked at Mercedes, who shrugged and said,
"It's against my principles, to be involved in this duplicity." Everyone looked at each other in puzzlement and a few looked to Sam.
"Say what?" Pug asked.
"Miss Jones talks proper English," Sam said and frowned at her. "I'll boil it down to Texan. She won't help stack a deck, even if it's to save the pot, if she thinks it's crooked. All she's willing to do, is feed and entertain the politicians all day and see that they get to the parade," he finished.
Will lit a pipe.
Mercedes scowled at him and Sam said,
"Smoking is only allowed in the gentleman's lounge…my office, unless you want Mercedes here, running around spraying you, with whatever that is, she uses."
Mercedes rolled her eyes at him.
If it wasn't un-ladylike, she would've walked over to him and slap him around his blonde head.
However, Will went to the window and knocked the ashes from his pipe, while the other ladies nodded approvingly.
Sam sighed.
Mercedes was a very bad influence on the other women. If she kept this up, they would all ban smoking and drinking and anything else, men did for fun.
He frowned, thinking of lace doilies under vases, coasters under every wet glass, and his hallowed pool room, turned into a morning room.
"So, what can we do now, to show the politicians how important the fort is to us?" Will asked. Dimples scratched his dimpled chin.
"Maybe we could tell them the local ranchers depend on the fort, as a market for their beef." Sam snorted.
"Do you really think some Yankee politician, is gonna care about the income of a bunch of southern ranchers?"
"He has a point," Mercedes said. She loathed the idea of giving him credit.
"Isn't there any other kind of trouble, that the local police might need the army to assist them with?" she asked.
"Well, there's the Saturday night bar fights," Will said with a nostalgic sigh. And then, "Or used to be, before the Lily got so civilized. The Bucket is too small for such ruckus."
"Maybe we could try to use intellect and reason with them," she offered. Sam threw his head back and laughed.
"Intellect and reason? Please, Mercy, we're talkin' about politicians. They're just taking an amusing trip, at the taxpayer's expense. They don't give a rat's…" he paused and looked around at the assembled ladies. "They don't care whether our fort closes or not," he finished.
Everyone nodded in agreement. The major asked,
"Is the town gonna be full of cowboys that day?" Sam scowled at him.
"Ain't it always, Gilbert? You think the cowboys is gonna miss free food, beer and a big dance? There'll be twice as many, as there was last time."
"Oh my," Mercedes said. Sam looked at her.
"What?"
"I don't think the cowboys and the soldiers get along very well," she said.
"That ain't news to anyone," Sam snapped. "It's one of the reasons we try to keep them apart, when they're gathering in town, at the same time."
Mercedes chewed her lip.
"Have they ever gotten into a huge brawl?"
"Between us and the sheriff's office, we do our best to avoid that. They'd tear the place down, if they ever got started," the major said. Sam smiled at her.
"That's it. It's the perfect idea. Suppose we plan a big fight between the two sides?"
"That is not your idea. It's mine," Mercedes started. "But like most men, you always take the credit." Sam ignored her, warming up to the idea.
"We could stage a big fight that evening, just before it's time for the train to leave. The cowboys would get a fake brawl going and the soldiers could save the town from being torn apart…with the help and permission of the sheriff, of course. Then the politicians would see how much we need the fort."
"Maybe the band could play…" the major began. And someone in the back groaned. But Sam hurried on,
"Good idea, Major. We could have the politicians sitting on the Lily's big front porch, listening to a concert…everybody would be there." Will snorted.
"I ain't sure, I'm up for that kind of sacrifice," he said.
"Oh, come on Will. They wouldn't have to play very long. The cowboys would object and star a ruckus," Sam assured and then, "We could start a big brawl out on the Lily's front lawn, with everybody throwing punches and shooting."
"Need I remind you," Mercedes said primly. "The last time there was shooting, you got shot?"
"I didn't forget. Ruined a new pair of boots, too. But this time I'll be more careful."
"This plan is full of clever deceits and fistfights. I like it," Will said.
"Spoken like a true lawyer," Sam said.
"Suppose it gets out of hand and someone gets hurt?" Mercedes protested.
"Women!" Sam said. And then, "Mayor, are we ready to vote on this?"
Mayor Pugsley nodded, and called for a show of hands.
The ladies all shook their heads, but the men all voted yes.
"Done!" Sam exclaimed with approval. "We'll talk more later, but for now, let's get the word out, about what we're gonna do, to save the fort."
"There has to be a better way, an honest way," Mercedes protested.
"Mercy," Sam started, as if speaking to a child. "We are talking about politicians here. 'Honest' in not in their vocabulary. We aren't about to let Nacogdoches die without a fight."
"Hear! Hear!" the men shouted.
"Now that, that's decided, we'll all adjourn to the lounge for a drink," Sam said.
"We're all for that," one man said, and the others cheered.
As the men began to leave the room, Mercedes smiled at the ladies and said,
"Ladies, Carmen has some tea and cookies ready, we can adjourn to the morning room and have them there."
"What the hell is a morning room?" Old Doc Millar asked. Sam frowned.
"It was the pool room."
"Where's the pool table?" Will asked.
"Don't ask," Sam said.
Mercedes ignored him and led the ladies to the back of the house, where they sipped tea and complimented her again, on the decorating.
Later, the two partners showed their guests out.
The crowd stayed on the front porch, for a few minutes more, chatting, and then dispersed.
As the others got into their vehicles and left, Sam said,
"I can just picture it now. The politicians will have a great view of the staged fight…"
"This is so crooked," Mercedes scolded.
"Maybe it's a bit shady," Sam conceded, as the two turned to go inside. "I had forgotten how honest you are. You make me ashamed of myself," he finished.
"Really?"
"Well, okay…maybe not really…but I've got room to change and grow," he admitted.
"I should've known," she griped. She looked around the big empty room. "We got two new guests today…came in from up north. If we keep growing, we'll soon be one of the best-known small hotels in Texas."
"Lady, I used to do very well, by just dealing poker. Now, you're trying to turn me into an upstanding citizen." She looked up at him.
"You might get some respect."
"Mercy, I've been buying respect with my fists and poker playing, all my life. It was the best a poor redneck boy could do."
He looked around, there was really no one else in sight. As if reading his mind, Mercedes said,
"Carmen and the girls must have retired to their rooms…the guests, too." Sam smiled at her.
"Then, how about a glass of champagne to celebrate saving the fort?" She eyed him suspiciously.
"You Texans think, you've got to have liquor, to celebrate everything. In the first place, I don't drink, as you very well know. And secondly, we haven't saved it yet."
"Oh, but we will." He grinned, as he went behind the bar and picked up a bottle, popping the cork. It spewed across the counter and the floor.
"Could you be a little more tidier?" she asked, frowning at him.
"And could you be a little less cross and strait-laced?" He poured two glasses of champagne.
'Tonight…I think tonight is the night, to seduce the very proper Miss Jones. And if she refuses to sell out again, I will threaten to tell her very proper fiancé.'
The idea was so rotten and underhanded, he felt like a rat.
'Get over it, Sam. It's a dog-eat-dog world and only the strong survive,' he told himself.
"Here, Mercy," he said offering her a glass. "I told you I was sorry, for the way things have gone, since you arrived and I'm telling you again. Don't you think I deserve a second chance?"
"My mother didn't believe in second chances. She believed a person should do the right thing the first time."
"Most of us need a second chance, every now and then. Remember, never judge a man 'til you've walked a mile in his boots," he said, smiling at her.
Mercedes wavered.
He was so handsome and so charming.
"I…I suppose I could have just a sip."
She looked around again.
The house was quiet, the lights dim. Everyone, including the guests, was in bed, probably asleep.
Sam smiled again, picking up the bottle and placing the two glasses on a tray.
"Good. Now let's find a comfortable place to sip our drinks and talk."
"How about the swing out on the lawn?" she offered. He shook his head.
"Too squeaky."
"Huh?"
"I meant, Sherwin would end up with his head in our laps, or munching on your nice skirt. What about that lovely morning room you just decorated?"
Mercedes stared at him.
"I thought you were furious about that?"
'Did he just grit his teeth?'
"Uh…no, Miss Jones. I'll admit, that when I first saw it, I might have been a tad upset."
"A tad?" she snorted. "As you Texans would say, you looked madder than a bee-stung bobcat."
"Oh…but I've decided, I was wrong. The room is lovely, and who cares if my fine old pool table gets rained on, out in that leaky old barn? Certainly not me."
"Not I," she corrected without thinking. Sam took a deep breath, and she would have sworn, she saw his hand shook.
"I'm so pleased you're correcting my bad grammar. Now, let's go sit back there and have our drinks, shall we?"
He took the bottle and tray of glasses and started down the hall. She followed him.
"Mr. Evans, to my credit, I have spoken to a carpenter, about closing in the back porch, so you can invite your friends out there, to shoot pool."
"Wonderful," he said. "I can't thank you enough. I see you took down my deer head that was hung in the back hall."
"It looked too violent."
"Mercy, most Texans are violent. Huntin' is part of the Constitution, along with drinking and gambling."
"I don't think that's in the Constitution."
"The Texas Constitution," he said over his shoulder.
"I doubt that, too."
Mercedes breathed a sigh of relief, as she followed him into the morning room and turned on the light. She was so glad he wasn't upset anymore.
She went to hit another switch and he said,
"Don't bother. We won't be here long."
"That's right," she agreed.
She sat on the big pink sofa, as he set the tray on the table next to it. Then he sat down next to her.
She scooted a little to one side, wishing he had chosen another chair, until she hit the sofa arm.
He didn't seem to notice.
He handed her a glass and picked up the other one, holding it out.
"Here's to the success, of the Texas Lily Hotel and our partnership."
She held her glass up and nodded, while he made his toast. The glass held a lot more champagne, than she'd asked for, but she didn't want to be rude. She sipped it slowly.
"What's the matter? Isn't it a good year?" He was sitting so close to her, that it made her nervous.
"Uh…Mr. Evans, I wouldn't know a good year, from a bad one. I told you I don't drink."
"Well, a high-class hotel, generally serves champagne to its guests and they'll expect you to know. Suppose the governor of Texas came to stay and we served him inferior champagne?"
"Be serious. I daresay most Texans, even the governor, wouldn't know champagne from branch water. They don't seem to drink anything, but bad whiskey and cheap beer."
She tasted the drink again. The little bubbles went up her nose and tickled her.
She felt wild and daring.
What would her stern, strait-laced mother say, about her sitting in an almost darkened room, drinking with a gambler, who has a reputation with the ladies, and who almost had her buck naked under a tree?
Sam sighed and sipped his drink. He put his arm across the back of the sofa.
'Did he move closer? Or did I imagine that?' Mercedes thought. She sipped her drink again. It tasted pretty good to her and she gulped the rest.
Immediately, Sam reached to take her glass. Their hands touched and she could have sworn she received a mild shock. The feeling danced across her fingers and up her arms, leaving her feeling tingly all over.
Sam refilled both their glasses.
"The rest of this will go flat, if we don't finish it tonight. There's no sense in saving it…and it's a very fine year, too," he said.
Mercedes didn't know if he was lying or not. She felt very light-hearted. She sipped her second glass of champagne and said,
"Well, my mother always said, it was a shame and sin, to waste anything."
"Ain't it the truth?" He grinned at her and held his glass up in another toast. She felt giddy and mellow enough, not to correct his grammar.
"I've been meaning to speak to you, about what happened in the woods, the other day…"
"Oh, dear lady," he started. He put his glass down and took her hand, looking earnestly into her eyes. "I owe you a thousand apologies. It was just that, you looked so beautiful…I was wept away…and I forgot my manners. Please forgive me."
Mercedes was taken aback, in her partially inebriated state.
That was just, what the hero in one of the romantic novels she loved, would have said. She sipped her drink and felt more kinder towards him.
"Mr. Evans, you are forgiven. I'm sorry about the perfume."
"I can still smell it."
He closed his eyes, as if imagining. And in Mercedes' mind, his face was close to her breasts, breathing in the scent…his breath warm on her skin...
"Anyway, thank you for your forgiveness." He kissed the hand he still held. "And please, call me Sam. Would you like some more champagne?"
She giggled, and that shocked her.
"I…I don't think so. I'm feeling a bit unconventional and foolish. I think I've had enough." He gently squeezed her hand.
"I'll tell you, when you've had enough. Do you think I would lie to you?"
Her thinking was a bit fuzzy, as he poured them each, another drink. He had lied to her plenty…hadn't he? Yet, he looked so charming, as he scooted closer to her.
"I…I think I need to go to bed now." She tried to stand up and nearly fell.
"Careful there," he said and reached out to catch her hand. But somehow, when she staggered and sat back down, she was almost in his lap.
"Okay?" he asked and she nodded. "Now, let's toast to the success of our mission."
Mercedes giggled like a schoolgirl, as she held up her glass and clinked it with Sam's.
"Haven't we already done that?" she asked.
"Have we?" He was so close to her, she could feel his warm breath squarely on her face. "Doesn't matter. To our success. Drink up!" She did, as she was told.
"You know, that's tasty. Maybe I should have a tad more, if I'm going to learn about champagne."
She drained her glass and he filled it again. She seemed to be having a difficult time, focusing her eyes. She leaned closer to him and looked up at him.
"Mr. Evans…"
"Sam," he corrected, taking her free hand and kissing it.
"Sam," she said, sipping her drink. "About the other day…"
"I told you how sorry I was."
He looked down into her eyes and she realized, just how gorgeous he was. He looked like an innocent schoolboy, with his hair falling across his forehead, almost into his green eyes.
Who was she kidding? Sam Evans had probably seduced his grade school teacher.
"I know. I…I just...want to make sure, you never tell my fiancé about that day. I doubt he would understand."
"My sweet Mercy, you have my word, as a gentleman. My lips are sealed."
He made the classic locking motion, with his fingers and she giggled, then drained her glass. He took it from her hand and set it on the table.
"What's so funny?" he asked.
"You. I don't think I've ever thought of you as a gentleman."
Now, he took both her hands in his.
His felt big, warm and powerful, almost covering her smaller ones. He kissed both her hands, leaning closer.
"I forgot myself in the woods that day. You were so beautiful and desirable. Lieutenant Fortenbury is a lucky man."
"Buford," she said without enthusiasm.
"Ah, yes, Buford. Such a fine officer. But since we're business partners, what goes on between us, doesn't concern him."
All of this, he said with a smile.
Mercedes was trying to follow his logic, but her mind was too fuzzy and he was so close.
She looked up at him, attempting to focus her eyes.
"It doesn't?"
"No, my dear, it doesn't. Just forget, that I thought you were so desirable, I couldn't resist kissing you."
Before she realized what he was about to do, he took her in his arms and kissed her. And she let him. Not only let him, but put her arms around his neck and kissed him back willingly.
His tongue brushed along the seam of her lips, begging her to open them, and she did, tilting her head in surrender, as his tongue teased the edges of her mouth and then caressed inside.
Mercedes melted into the kiss, as his tongue continued to explore the length and breadth of her mouth.
"Sweet…so sweet," he whispered.
Somewhere in her foggy mind, she wondered, if she should be doing this. It wasn't proper. Or was it, since he was her business partner?
She couldn't seem to remember anything absolute, when she was around this sexy rascal.
She kept her eyes closed, as his warm soft lips kissed her eyelids and her cheeks.
She felt his hot breath on her skin, as his mouth moved down her throat.
Her pulse raced and her heart pounded like a hammer in her chest, but she didn't pull away.
He was big, strong and virile, yet he held her in a tender embrace.
"Mercy," he whispered. "My dear, sweet Mercy. You are so pretty."
No one in her strict, mundane life, had ever called her pretty. Her mother had reminded her time and again, that beautiful women, were liable to fall victim to men's lust and passion.
Mercedes had never even been sure, what lust was, but now, she knew about passion.
"Sam," she gasped. "I don't think…"
"Don't think, Mercy," he whispered against her throat.
She kept her eyes closed, but felt him fumbling with the hem of her shirt.
His breath was warm on her throat, as he kissed across her collarbone.
She opened her eyes, to look into his pretty green ones, that were a few shades darker now.
His face was just brushing the swell of her bountiful breasts, when one of his hands reached behind her, to unclasp her bra.
In the dim light, she looked from her exposed breasts to his handsome face. He was breathing hard and his eyes were intense with desire.
She took his face between her small hands and kissed him.
Sam groaned aloud and his hot mouth left her lips, and went right to her stiff nipples.
Now, it was her turn to moan and groan.
She arched her back, offering him the feast of her breasts and he accepted, ravaging them.
Sam couldn't seem to get enough of them, as he licked and caressed them generously.
By now, Mercedes' lower body, felt as if it was on fire, a burning which began in her tummy and was now spreading lower.
One of his hands landed on her thigh and she trembled, wanting more from him. She wanted to feel his hand on her bare skin.
"Mercy?" he gasped.
"Y-yes, Sam…don't…don't stop."
She didn't care about right or wrong, or what Buford would think, or anything else, but this moment and this man.
She felt his hand moving under her skirt, pushing it up, but he stopped and slowly pulled it down and off her.
He gently tapped her legs and made a lifting motion. She complied and lifted her lower half and he placed the skirt beneath her.
He then, gently pressed her back, so that she was laying on the pink sofa.
He moved to lay on her, shifting her legs to make himself comfortable between them and the minute he did, he felt like this is where he'd belonged.
His hips took on a life of their own, grinding against her damp, but warm heat.
His long fingers stroked her thigh and he shifted, bringing his hand up to her underwear, where he rubbed and stroked her into a frenzy.
The minute his fingers went under her panties and touched her quivering flesh, she groaned loudly and started to tremble.
The trembling increased, when he slipped one finger into her heated core, even as he reached to kiss her again.
"Oh…oh…my…Sam…" she cried out. She was breathing hard through her mouth, when she felt him fumbling again, this time with the zip on his jeans.
Was she out of her mind?
This was totally unacceptable behavior, for an engaged, respectable lady, but she couldn't care less, because she wanted more.
She lifted her leg, giving him access, to stroke the depths of her heated womanhood, but he pulled back to hold her face and look deeply into her eyes, and softly say,
"Mercy, tonight I'm going to make a woman of you."
Mercedes knew, she should immediately get up and leave. She knew, she should be saving her virginity for her groom to be…
'What was his name? That prissy officer from Philadelphia…Buford What's-his-name…'
But, right now, the man she wanted to give it to, was this wild and worthless rogue, who was seriously wreaking havoc with her emotions.
"Sam…I…I think I love you," she said.
Sam tensed.
He wasn't sure how to respond. Was she serious? What was he to do? He couldn't possibly say it back…could he?
He was so conflicted, but he desperately wanted her.
"Sure," he murmured.
He snapped her panties and slowly guided himself to her entrance and she tensed.
"No," he whispered. "Relax, it will be easier."
He kissed her softly, lingering, as strange emotions arose. He closed his eyes, trying to block them out, and for a moment, it seemed as though it had worked.
He claimed her lips again, tasting deeply and she allowed him, by completely surrendering.
"God…you're so wet…and I've never wanted a woman, as much as I want you right now," he mumbled against her lips.
Her breath hitched at the rawness in his tone, and she realized, she desired him, as much as he did her.
She reached up and pulled him down to her, and he carefully entered her.
For a split second, Mercedes felt good, but as his rigid member pushed against her barrier, and broke through, slipping all the way to the hilt, she gasped and hot tears spilled unchecked, from her eyes.
Immediately, Sam's lips covered hers, forcing his tongue deeply into her throat, as one of his hands softly kneaded her breast.
He swallowed her cries, as he continued to kiss her deeply.
For a moment, he broke the kiss to whisper sweet words to her and after a while, the pain lessened to a dull ache.
His hands continued to gently knead her breast and suddenly, she needed his full lips on them.
"More," she whispered, and his eyes grew darker still.
His first movements were slow and calculated, but as she pulled him closer, he began to ride her.
New, heady feelings enveloped Mercedes and she wanted more, still.
Sam obliged.
He went deeper and faster, until the pink sofa started to make a dull, thudding noise.
Still Mercedes' need grew and his actions sped up, as he rode her, driving into her, like a hard, steel rod…bare flesh slapping against bare flesh, until she gasped and gripped him like a vise, whispering his name, over and over again.
Just when Mercedes thought she couldn't take anymore, her emotions rose, like a great crashing crescendo of passion. She clung to him, while she bucked under him.
Her pulse roared in her ears, and like a tidal wave crashing over her, she released, gasping and catching for breath, with the only audible sound of,
"Sam…Sam…" escaping her lips.
At that, she felt his movements increase, in speed and in depth and a familiar feeling reared it's head, again.
What was he doing to her? How was it possible?
She didn't know the answers to these questions, as she was swept away, with ecstasy once again and she no longer knew where she was, or what was happening, except that she didn't want it to end.
Sam, on the other hand, was completely lost in a sea of bliss.
He's never had it this good before.
As Mercedes unraveled a second time, beneath him, it took everything within him, not to let go and fall with her.
He felt so good, he wanted to stay there forever.
But he couldn't.
He placed one hand under her bum, lifting it at an angle and drove into her, feeling her sweet spot clenching and drawing him.
And he knew he wasn't going to last.
His movements turned erratic and after a few minutes, he stiffened and groaned, emptying his hot seed, deeply into her.
For hours, or centuries, or maybe only a few minutes, they clung to each other, locked in the external embrace of desire.
For Mercedes, she was drunk and in love, smiling sleepily. Then she sighed, relaxed and knew no more.
Sam finally released her bum, knowing there would be marks there, but it couldn't be helped.
He rose up on his elbows, feeling hot and felt a sheen of sweat all over his muscular body.
God, he's never had an experience like this before.
Mercedes was some woman.
"Mercy," he whispered. No answer.
"Mercy?" She was out cold.
He looked down into her serene face, soft and pretty in the dim light.
What had he done?
He had deliberately gotten an innocent woman drunk and seduced her.
That was a new low, even for him.
'Rotten bastard…fuck!' he cursed himself.
But he couldn't have stopped, even if there was a gun to his head, he had wanted her that badly.
He ran his hand through his damp hair, pondering his next move.
Wow! I don't know whether to be mad at Sam or not. I look forward to hearing from you guys. Much love to you.