Happy New Year! Here's another chapter to the epic tale of Mercedes and Sam. This is the chapter that changes their relationship! The story is half over and there are eight more planned chapters, give or take. A new and better Samcedes story is in the works! Thanks to the people who review and follow my story. Your enthusiasm and excitement are great motivators.

Eight

The Warehouse

East Houston Street

The Bowery

The Warehouse was an underground dubstep nightclub in The Bowery, based in an abandoned warehouse from the 1970s. This was where Sam and Puck spent their weekends instead of going to formal galas and balls on the Upper East Side. He always had a good time getting drunk and dancing with random girls and taking a cab home at four in the morning. Quinn hated The Warehouse because it took up so much of his time. Instead of being at her side in a constricting tuxedo at some gala, he was with Puck in, what Quinn called, a disgusting rat infested hell hole. In fact, he ditched The Metropolitan Museum of Art gala that fall to go to the club. He danced until sunlight in his Armani suit.

Tonight, he wanted to take a break from hide and seek. After leaving the gay bar, Sam received a tip that a drunken girl was seen in Staten Island. There was no way in hell The Cosmic Slices were going to be in Staten Island. It was Staten Island for Goodness sake! It was a little too boring and quiet for Finn's liking. It was safe to say that it was a false tip.

Like always, he sucked at finding the secret show. Plus, he needed to stall a little. He wanted to spend some time with Mercedes on his own terms. The Cosmic Slices could wait and so could her sex kitten friend.

Sam and Mercedes were walking down the heavily populated block, when he pointed to the club. They could hear the loud techno music spilling onto the streets. They made their way to the entrance and could see the erratic blue and white lights pulsating in unpredictable spurts.

"This is it?" Mercedes asked. She looked up at him with fear in her eyes. This was going to be her first rave. He smiled down at her. She was so damned cute. One minute she was this melodramatic diva and, now, she was naïve and shaken.

"Yup!"

He grabbed her hands and laced his fingers through hers. He looked down at her once more and gave her a reassuring grin. "Don't worry. You'll be fine," he promised.

She rolled her eyes and let out an apprehensive sigh. He had yet to see her so nervous. It was either that she wasn't into partying or that they didn't have raves in cornfield country. "Here goes nothing."

They walked into the dimly lit club, pushing through throngs of drunken people. He held her tight so that she wouldn't get lost in the sea of people. They made their way to the crowded bar where a tattooed and pierced bartender was whipping up drinks with fascinating speed. Sam shoved his way to the front and caught the bartender's attention by waving his hands over his shoulders like a maniac. The bartender nodded towards them.

The blond held up two fingers. "Two Gorilla Farts!"

Mercedes slapped him on his back. "What?! I'm not drinking that!"

He smirked at her naivety. "Calm down Mercy. It's just glorified rum and whiskey."

The air was ripe with stale sweat and cigarettes. Sam pulled at the neck of his T-shirt. It was stifling hot due to the enormous body heat radiating throughout the room. The bartender practically threw him the drinks without looking back. Sam handed Mercedes a shot glass that was only barely full.

"Cheers!" he cried, clinking glasses with her. Without a second thought, he cocked his head back and took one large gulp. The acrid liquid burned his throat and he coughed to ease the soreness.

Mercedes wasn't so brazen. She put her nose to the rim of the shot glass and sniffed its contents. She shook her head disapprovingly and jutted her bottom lip out in protest. He patted her back in encouragement.

"Whatever you do…don't sip!" he exclaimed.

She looked at him once more and counted three breaths. On the third and largest breath, she drank the shot in one move. She shook her body and coughed in response. Her face contorted and she stuck her tongue out. He cheered and ruffled her hair with a laugh.

He reached down to her ear, grazing her soft earlobe, and whispered, "Wanna dance?"

He pointed to the dance floor and they both observed the sea of dancing bodies. She paused for a minute and pursed her lips in thought. Then, she shrugged her shoulders and, to his delight, nodded her head.

Sam eyed an unsuspecting couple making out at the bar. There were two glow stick necklaces on top the woman's jacket He reached over and swiped the necklaces, replacing them with him and Mercedes's empty shot glasses.

Sam pulled her by the arm and pushed through the crowd of dancing bodies and onto the dance floor. At first, she stared at him with a shy, half smile. He slid the pink glow stock through her bountiful head of hair and onto her neck. It rested awkwardly on her collarbone. They started slow as he closed the gap between them. Their bodies swayed in unison and then picked up speed to match the tempo of the song. Sam's hands traveled to her hips and then, suddenly feeling impulsive, grabbed her ass. She shooed his hands away and gave him a devilish smirk. She loosened her hair so that it cascaded down her shoulders. She threw her hands over his neck and shook her hips so fast that it left him dizzy. He leaned in and attempted to kiss her, but she put her hands to her lips. Instead, she went onto her tippy toes and nibbled on his ear. He could feel her hot breath reddening his face. She went from shy small town girl to downtown vixen and he liked it.

They danced for what seemed like forever. Mercedes yelled that she was tired and they pushed their way off the dance floor. He was sweating and his bleach blond hair was damp. He pulled off his hoodie and gasped for air. His white V neck clung to him with sweat.

"I need to pee!" Sam cried, pointing towards the bathroom. He needed to take a leak and splash water on his face.

Mercedes followed him through the thick double doors and into a dirty alcove. The bathroom, with a plywood door and makeshift door knob, was across the way, hidden behind a group of punks. They were all smoking and, when the double doors slammed behind Mercedes and Sam, they stopped their conversation and stared intently at them.

A guy with a multi-colored mohawk, who was clad in a motorcycle jacket held together by thick safety pins, tight leather jeans, and scuffed cowboy boots, nodded a greeting to them. His dark eyes were set in a classic punk glare and his lips were jutted out into a sneer. His cigarette was hanging lazily at his lips.

"Sup," he said casually.

"Sup," Sam greeted.

Sam could feel Mercedes digging her fingers into his arm. She was cowering away behind him. He shook his head and stifled a chuckle. Gosh! She was so cute! Poor Mercedes had probably never seen so much badasses in one room, including Sam. The blond was used to freakily dressed people like punks. This was New York after all. You could see a prepster wannabe and punk groupie on the same block.

The punks moved from the bathroom entrance so that Sam could get through. "Wait out here," he told Mercedes.

Mercedes quickly looked over her shoulder and at the silent punks and said, "I won't peek. I promise!"

Before he could say anything, she ushered Sam into the bathroom and locked the door behind them. Sam flicked on the light and they were greeted by the sight of gray graffiti clad walls, a dirty white sink, and a steel industrial toilet. The sound of the techno was muffled against the concrete walls.

He made his way towards the toilet and unzipped his pants, while Mercedes found a corner facing away from Sam.

"Don't peek!" he teased. "I don't need you to see the family jewels!" he drawled with a devilish laugh.

"Or lack thereof," Mercedes retorted, her face still against the wall.

"Touche."

After a minute, he zipped his pants and pressed his sneaker against the toilet handle. The sound of rushing water echoed off the walls.

"Done?"

"Done," he said. He began washing his hands as Mercedes turned around. He quickly flicked his fingers so that speckles of water splashed on her face. He chuckled at the sight of her closing her eyes and reopening them with a glare.

"What now?" Mercedes asked.

Sam didn't answer. He was too busy studying her face like an idiot. He noticed the faint freckle that was below her left eye and that her eyes had tints of light brown in them. They were staring at each other for what seemed like forever. Then, Sam took a silent step forth and Mercedes took two steps back. They continued this cat and mouse until Mercedes was backed against the wall. Sam grinned at the sight of her looking up at him. He placed a hand on the wall and closed the space between them. The blond leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss deepened as Mercedes placed her hands onto his angular jaw. His fingers slowly tiptoed to her crotch and he didn't move. She suddenly stiffened and slightly jerked away with her hands.

He froze for a second. "Shit," he whispered, breaking the kiss. He licked his lips and moved at least five feet away her, backing against the plywood door. There was a long awkward silence as the Diva's eyes were cast to the dirty concrete floor and as he ran his fingers through his disheveled golden locks.

Mercedes was a virgin. The unmistakable and notorious virgin look was etched on her face. She bit her lips and shuffled her feet with shame. She had been the brazen vixen on the dancefloor and was now the scared little lamb.

He had no intention of taking advantage of her. She meant more to him than that.

"I'm so sorry!"

"Don't be," she paused and looked at him. She bit her nervously. "What if I didn't want it to stop?"

He gave her an incredulous look. Did he hear right? She was a virgin and she wanted to have sex in a bathroom. "What?"

She took a breath and looked down to her feet ashamedly. She was new at this. "I didn't want to stop,"

There was a giddy feeling whirling in his stomach. He shook his head with understanding, trying his best to not smile. "Okay."

He took a step forth and reclaimed his spot in front of her, closing the gap between them. He leaned in and their noses brushed together. He softly and slowly pressed his lips against hers. He could feel her moving into the kiss. Their lips melded into one and were perfect together.

He felt so good kissing her. Her kisses tasted like raspberries and were so sweet and careful. He liked the way she puckered her lips like she was blowing bubbles. The kiss deepened and he wrapped his hands around her waist.

Her hands were cupped on his jaw and she began to slowly slide down to the floor. Without breaking the kiss, he slid down with her and was on top of her. His hands traveled up the fabric of her jeans. He began to feel her up and she softly moaned into the kiss.

Almost coincidentally, the opening verse of I just want to fuck by the Baltimore club began to play. They both giggled simultaneously and they were both kissing each other's teeth.

He reached for the button on her jeans and, with one hand, tried to unbutton it. It wasn't budging. He tried with two hands and couldn't do it. He groaned and let out an exasperated sigh. It was as if he were trying to break a combination lock.

Mercedes noticed his trouble and pulled her lips away. She propped herself on her elbows and gave him a teasing smirk. "Are you new at this?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He gave her a machismo scoff and his famous are you serious right now? look. He didn't want to brag or anything, but he has been around the block a few times. Most of his conquests were due to him and Quinn breaking up. "Um...no!"

He had done this plenty of times, albeit not in a bathroom. He'd never done anything in a bathroom, so it was new and exciting. Her jeans weren't giving way, that was all.

She rolled her eyes and, in one swift move, successfully unbuttoned her jeans.

"Why did you have to buy cockblocking jeans?" he asked cheekily.

"Oh! Shut up!" she retorted with a giggle. He smiled as she blushed furiously. She was so cute. He liked the dimples on her cheeks when she smiled. He liked the glimmer in her eyes when they crinkled as she laughed.

He gently wiggled her out of her jeans. His eyes widened at the sight of her red, frilly underwear. They were very red and very hot. Against her caramel skin, red really tiptoed to the hem of her panties and slowly pulled them down. She closed her eyes and relaxed her muscles. He could hear her drawing in her breath in anticipation.

He began to massage her in a circular position. He started off slow and then picked up speed.

She threw her head back in ecstasy. She was trying to hold back a moan, but failed miserably. He worked his way to her opening and paused.

"It's gonna hurt," he warned. She opened her eyes and blinked at him. She had this frazzled look in her eyes. She nodded her head, signaling that she was ready.

Sam then proceeded to push his fingers through. She was tight and it took awhile to fully get in. He began to pump his fingers and her body shook in unison. She was yelping and yowling, trying to stay quiet, even though no one could hear them. He reached for her lips again and kissed her, drinking zealously from her lips. He finally found her G spot and put pressure on it. She froze and her body immediately stiffened like a mannequin. Then, she shook with pleasure and her breaths grew shallow. Her moans excited him and he continued jamming his fingers on her spot.

"Feels good?" he asked huskily.

She shook her head fervently. "F...fuc...ccc..k!" she cried. She tensed up and stretched her body. She writhed and wiggled, flexing her muscles. She threw her head back and her face contorted. Her lips scrunched together and she squeezed her eyes shut. He continued until she finally gave in. Then, she relaxed and her chest, almost automatically, began to expand and contract.

He pulled his fingers out with a smug grin. He had gotten her to orgasm and it felt good. Her cum was all over his fingers.

She swallowed hard and shook her head. "Woah," she whispered. She stared at him as if it were the first time she looked at him.

"Yeah..."

He wordlessly got up and washed his fingers while she redressed. She ran her fingers through her hair and put on her jacket. They looked at each other and both couldn't tear their eyes away. She was frowning and so was he. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy himself or that he had gotten into her pants. It was that they liked it each other a little too much. They were so into each other and it sucked because they were separating in a few hours. It was more than a one night stand. She was more than just a conquest.

He tried not to think about it until now. He had brought her to the club to stall their search. The minute they found her sex kitten friend, they would both go back to being strangers.

"Let's go," he finally said. They walked out of the bathroom and into the cool air of Manhattan. He grabbed her hand and laced his fingers through hers. Her hands were soft and reminded him of silk. He never believed at love, not to mention like, at first sight. It was something that he saw when his mother watched her cheesy soap operas. And now it was happening...for real.

Maybe, just maybe, if he held on tight and never let go of her hand, they'd be together.

They walked in silence down East Houston Street. They hands were swinging and they were walking so close together that they could trip each other. He didn't want her to go. He wanted to hold her hand and walk forever.

A group of rowdy boys were walking towards them from the other direction. They were all sharing a bottle of Puerto Rican rum, each taking a hearty swig and then passing it. They were shouting and cheering at corny, unfunny jokes. From the corner of his eye, Sam could see that one of the boys, a tall pale boy with a mop of brown hair covered by his snapback hat, was eyeing Mercedes intently. He was wearing baggy jeans and a red letterman jacket, and was walking as if there was a stick up his ass. Sam grimaced at the boy. He was a wannabe Slim Shady.

"Hey shorty!" he yowled drunkenly, gaining Mercedes's interest. The boy motioned for his friends to listen. "What can this white boy do for you?" he yelled, pointing at Sam. He was talking in a fake, displeasing gangsta accent. The blond took an angry step towards the much skinnier boy. He was ready to knock this kid's lights out.

When all she did was stare silently at him, he continued. "I could rock ya world and ya bed shorty!"

His friends erupted in laughter and the boy slapped his knees, laughing like an idiot.

Sam bolted towards the kid and grabbed him by neck of his t-shirt. He had his fist in the air, ready to slam it into the boy's jaw. He didn't really have a mean streak or a short temper. He had only gotten into one fight. It was when a kid had the audacity to call him a pussy.

The boy's friends ran to rescue him from Sam's death grip. Mercedes pulled Sam back by the shoulder. "You should look in the mirror white boy," Sam snapped. It only took one glare on Sam's part to get the boys to scatter like flies down the street.

"Someone's overprotective," Mercedes teased, trying to lighten the situation. They continued their slow pace down East Houston.

He blushed furiously at her statement. He'd never felt the feeling of jealousy before. She wasn't even his girlfriend and he was protecting her as if she was. He'd known this girl for only a few hours but there was something about her that kept him on his toes, there was something about her that he couldn't find Quinn or any of the princesses of the Upper East Side, and there was something about her that made him forget about his bad grades, his painful breakup, his nagging mother and father, and his feeling of being shunned by high society. He liked her. He truly liked her and it was devastating that she was leaving him behind in New York.

"Let's get something to eat," Sam suggested, changing the subject. From dancing like crazy, getting to third base, and almost getting into a fight with a rap loser, he had really worked up an appetite.