Time to ramp up the smut quotient a little. You may want to get a fan or a long cool drink. No? Well don't say I didn't warn you.
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"Just what's goin on here?" Merle loomed over her, his body hard and warm against hers, solid legs trapping hers against the shelves, as if his grip around her waist wasn't enough to do the job. Oddly, the spectre of Ed never raised its head – Carol felt no fear that if she tried to push Merle away that he would refuse to co-operate. Initially, he might try a little persuasion, but she had no doubt that if she said no, and kept saying no, he would let her go, however disgruntled he might be over it. But she had no intention of saying no. Quite the reverse. She slid one finger back and forth in a minute, considered stroke against his bare skin.
"Exactly what you think."
"You don't know what I think," Merle countered, his expression remaining inscrutable.
"Tell me then. "
"You sure actin' like you wanna get it on …" Merle replied, his narrowed blue-grey gaze assessing her warily, then turning thoughtfully to consider the closed pantry door.
"It's locked." His gaze darted back to her instantly. She could almost see the tumblers clicking in his brain. "So's the outer door."
"So if I put my hands on you…" he grimaced as he remembered that hands didn't apply anymore. He moved the one hand he did have up and down against her waist in a suggestive manner. Her skin jumped and prickled and she found her breath shortening. "No one's gonna come bustin' in here draggin' me offa you. And you ain't… gonna cry rape afterwards."
"That's not the way I do things Merle."
He sucked his teeth, still thinking, and Carol waited patiently. No sense rushing things now that the ball was rolling. She was surprised that he was being so cautious, despite his interest. And he was interested. The way they were pressed together, she could feel his interest rising. As she took the opportunity to slide her hands higher and stroke a thumb against the back of his neck, he shifted restlessly.
"What about Daryl?"
"Daryl? A threesome? Well, I've… never tried that before. But if you insist."
"That ain't what I meant woman, and you goddamn know it. Ain't you and he… you know?"
"Daryl is my very dear friend."
"I know he ain't puttin' it to you… yet. Boy always was slow when it comes to bitches. Women," he amended, frowning even as he made the change. Almost absently he slid his hand down to cup her arse. "But won't it fuck things up for you? I seen the two of you together – ain't you after some of his hard candy?"
"Merle, I really think that's enough about Daryl." Her tone was firm, uncompromising, and she decided it was time to open the dance. Standing on her toes she canted her head to one side and kissed him.
Nothing fancy, nothing out of the ordinary, just closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and pressed her lips to his. He went stock still, and she began to gently move her lips against his, coaxing him, trying not to worry about what that stillness might mean. Suddenly he let his breath out in a short taut rush and started kissing her back, no hesitation now, mouth opening on hers, lips warm and firm and experienced. His stubble brushed against her, he tasted of coffee and bourbon and where had he got that and then his tongue was in her mouth and he was pressing against her and all the shifting tense breathlessness coalesced into a warm melting feeling and she was urging him on with one hand against the back of his neck and the other was sliding up his bare skin under his top and she was tonguing him back.
Merle broke away and his lips went to her neck, mouthing it firmly, then he touched his tongue to her skin and she gasped and shivered. To get a little of her own back she kissed her way up to his ear, took his earlobe in her teeth and bit down gently. He quickly swapped over the position of his arms so that the attachment was pressing her to him, and his good hand went to her jaw to turn her face up to him, as he kissed her harder then flickered his tongue rapidly in and out of her mouth. She barely had a chance to respond before his mouth was against her neck again, same spot as before, and she let out an involuntary moan of pleasure and moved against him. Merle made a "hhnnh" sound of knowing triumph. She would have been piqued at his smugness if what he'd done didn't feel so damn good.
She turned back to him and pulled his head down, meeting him with an open and eager mouth. He cupped his hand against the curve at the back of her head, but had no need to drive her on, his kisses were doing that for him, hot and wet and urgent. They kissed for long moments with an intensifying hunger that set her senses reeling, before Merle lifted his head.
"Woman you better be damn sure about this." He rasped harshly then his mouth was back on hers, hard and unrelenting. With a gasp she pulled away, panting, and pressed two fingers against his lips, nodding, just a pause while she caught her breath enough to speak.
"I'm not asking you to marry me Merle."
"Just to fuck you."
She swallowed hard. It didn't get much plainer than that. "Yes."
"Guess I can oblige."
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To be continued…