Chapter 48
Sam stared back at her in what could only be described as stunned silence. Mercedes guessed her little suggestion about their future had thrown him off. It had thrown her off too, truth be told. She hadn't intended on making such a bold statement to him, even if she had been thinking it in her head most of the night. Being raised by a con artist gave her a certain set of skills usually absent in the average person. The ability to detect bullshit was high on that list. And Sam had been setting off her bullshit monitor all night. Sure he had been attentive, and sweet, and amazingly sexy, but none of it was real. It couldn't be. Life just didn't work like that, not for Mercedes at least. Dreams didn't come true so easily, and wishes weren't granted when she wanted them most.
There was one time when she was about twelve and her mom Keisha had decided she was done hustling and scheming, announcing it with a big grin over breakfast in their apartment in Los Angeles. Mercedes didn't know what to think, since she had sworn off hustling before, only to go back to it later that evening. This time seemed different though. Keisha whisked them away on a vacation to Vegas, for a week at a fancy hotel on the strip, shopping and attractions. Keisha wanted to spoil her little girl, she deserved it after all for putting up with her. By day three Mercedes let go of her skepticism and embraced the wonderful reality that her dreams had come true and she was finally going to have a normal life without her mom's illegal moneymaking schemes and the awful ways she was expected to help her.
On day five she got her hair curled at a real beauty salon, bought a new dress at a fancy boutique on the strip and had caviar for the first time. With full bellies and easy smiles they sprawled out on the bed eating chocolates, then a knock at the door. Room service, Keisha had declared as he went to answer it, after forty-five minutes and no sight of Keisha, Mercedes went into the other room of their suite to explore, but she was gone. Four a.m. Keisha stumbled into her room reeking of alcohol and cigarettes, an impromptu poker game with some important people, she couldn't say no. Mercedes remembered her stomach dropping like she was on a roller coaster, her hopes of a normal life vanished in the filtered moonlight of her hotel room. After she had been forced to follow her mother back downstairs to join in the fun, Mercedes tossed that fancy dress in the trash and brushed out every curl that had been put in her hair, dreams had no place in her world, other girls were allowed such fantastic notions, but not her, life was just a string of broken promises and crushed hopes. Dreaming got her nowhere except sad and disappointed.
Looking in Sam's eyes tonight, all those memories came flooding back, of Keisha saying the right words to get her to comply. Good girls don't say no, they smile and take it. Mercedes longed to be a good girl and win her "mama's love". Years later she still wanted to be good, a good person, a good nurse, a good wife, and she was once again imprisoned between compliance and resistance. Should she sit back and enjoy Sam's attention and newfound affection? Or did she question it and press him for the reasons behind his shift in demeanor? Keisha always told her she never was really good, that her stubborn streak and her mouth always got her into trouble and made her a daughter she couldn't be proud of. Maybe Keisha was right after all, she could never be a good girl, because there was no way she could sit back and let Sam stomp all over her heart.
"Do you want to play another game?" Sam finally asked after what felt like forever of him just looking at her.
"Are you going to ignore what I said?" Mercedes asked, not wanting to be put off again. She had made her stand and told him how she felt about Quinn's presence and she wanted it to be acknowledged.
"I'm not ignoring it. I'm just not ready to respond." He still had his hand on her thigh, maintaining their intimacy even after things had cooled between them.
"I need you to be ready."
He took a deep breath squeezing her thigh as he exhaled. "I don't want to say anything to ruin our night. It has been pretty good so far, wouldn't you say?"
"Yeah it has been good, but that's precisely why I can't keep going with this pretense. You're up to something and I need to know what it is."
It would be so easy to ignore all the warning alarms going off inside her head and lose herself in being with him, but denial had never been her thing. So she had to face him head on, even if it meant that their date would end.
"Damn right I'm up to something, I've been up to it all night. I want to make our marriage work," Sam said sounding annoyed and a little defensive.
"Send Quinn away and you got me. We can work on things together."
He tensed beside her, removing his hand from her leg and crossing his arms. "Quinn's not going anywhere."
Mercedes crossed her arms too, assuming his posture. "Then we have nothing to talk about. What I said upstairs still stands. I want a divorce."
She could be just as stubborn as him. He might have beaten her at Donkey Kong but no way was he going to win this. Quinn needed to be gone from their lives, sent back to the hospital so she could fully recover. In her current state, she was a threat to Beth, Sam, and their marriage. Mercedes wasn't going to let Quinn hurt anyone she loved. Never again.
"No," said Sam through clenched teeth.
"No?" Mercedes was taken aback. Sam wasn't even going to try to make excuses to appease her. Another clear message about just how important Quinn was to him.
"No to the divorce, no to Quinn going back upstate." He sliced through the air with his arm as he spoke. "Just no. We're going to work all of this out together, while married.
Sam got up and walked over to the small group of people in the room. "Could you please excuse us? We'd like to be alone." He ushered them out, not even waiting for a response, a very Evans move. Turning back to face Mercedes once the room was cleared he said, "I won't be giving up without a fight. You're not divorcing me."
"You don't just get to decide things. What I want matters too." Mercedes was done with his barked orders.
She determined the course of her life, not him. There was no way she was going to share her husband with another woman. She didn't care how much she loved Sam. He wasn't worth giving up her dignity to get a few crumbs of his time. If he wanted Quinn that much, he could have her.
Sam quickly bridged the space between them, grabbing her by both arms and hoisting her to her feet. "You want to be with me, if I had any doubts about that, they're gone now after that kiss. All that stuff you said upstairs about me being the wrong Sam and that I wasn't your husband, all lies."
"I wasn't lying. You are different," she said trying to wriggle away from his grasp. Sam held tighter, forcing her to look at him.
"I might be different, but you still like it," he said inches from her face. His eyes fell to her lips, and Mercedes knew he was going to kiss her, she braced herself for contact, but nothing happened. Sam studied her with a smug smile. "You want me as much as ever and that kiss proved it."
"It was just a kiss. I was caught in the moment," she said trying to seem dismissive when really she was battling for control over her fluttering hormones.
"No you were caught up in me."
"Egotistical bastard…" Mercedes started, but the insult faded as he pressed her closer to his body.
"How can you blame my ego when it's the truth? You basically told me you'd have sex with me right here if I sent Quinn away."
The way he said the word sex made her legs tremble under her long dress. It sounded like an invitation instead of an accusation.
"I was talking about rebuilding our relationship, not sex. Leave it to you to take things to the lowest level."
Why was she letting him do this, be so close when she was thoroughly pissed? He hadn't touched her again, but he continued to invade her space, squeezing himself closer with each word, tracking her with his eyes, forcing her to give him all her attention. There was no escape when he was like this. He'd been this way with her before, a number of times, when they hated each other. Sam liked to make his points with his body, using her attraction to him to get a reaction. Mercedes had pulled off quite a few cons, without ever letting her mask of control drop, but with Sam, she was always exposed.
"Here's a tip, if you want me to take you seriously, try talking to me while we're not making out. Using sex as a commodity is not the way to get me to do anything. All it does is get you fucked."
"You're so vulgar," she said her nails digging into his arm. It was either that or a slap, she needed a physical way to release her building anger at him. "I wasn't using sex. I was being honest. I can't be with you while you're involved with another woman. I'm not willing to share."
"I've never asked you to share." He pried her fingers off of his arm, but didn't let go of her hand. He held it tightly in his own. "Besides you said you were divorcing me."
"Which makes this conversation even more pointless," she shot back, snatching her hand away.
"Look at you. You're so turned on right now."
Anger flashed through her body, warming her completely, when she saw the spark of amusement in his green eyes.
"I am not! Where did you get that from?"
"Pink and pretty liked a chocolate covered strawberry as if I were kissing you. Tell me Mercedes do you get turned on by all heated debates or just ones with me?" He slowly let his hand run down her side, outlining her curves.
"This is not passion, this is anger," she said slapping his hand away. "You've been practically hateful to me for weeks, trying to get me out of the way so you can have your lovefest with Quinn. Then suddenly today it's all about me. You want to be with me, you want our marriage to work. Complete 180 and complete crap. I'm not buying into any of it. You can kiss me all night long and I still won't trust you."
"Mmm all night?" he pulled her closer by the nape her neck, his hand lost behind a curtain of dark hair.
Mercedes silently watched him, waiting for him to do something, their conversation forgotten as the walls closed in and only the sound of their combined breathing filled the air. She bit her lower lip in anticipation, of what, she had no clue.
Sam sucked in a breath and dipped his head lower. "Fuck it," he swore before kissing her, his fingers massaging her pulse points, in rhythm with the movements of his tongue.
She needed to push him away, he hadn't responded to her demand about Quinn. Nothing was resolved, if only this didn't feel so good. The urge to hit him somehow got crosswired with her constant need to kiss him and suddenly she was scrambling to get him out of his clothes.
Mercedes wrapped her arms around his neck, sculpting herself to his frame, nails digging into his scalp she kissed him harder, putting all her frustration on his lips. He was impossible and arrogant. She should be kicking Sam in the ass not grabbing it, pulling him closer. He moaned against her ear, as his hands moved along her back, fumbling with her zipper.
"What did you do? Glue this zipper shut?" he asked out of breath, turning her around, her back flush with his chest.
"You're the one that zipped it remember? Let me help you." Mercedes tried to reach her zipper, anxious to get out of her dress and next to him.
"No I got it," he put his warm palm on her back as he pulled the zipper down. She giggled when she felt his tongue along the column of her spine, small flicks sending shivers all over her body like tiny electric shocks. Spinning her back to face him, one hand on her shoulder pushing down her dress, the other in her hair, his lips were on hers, kissing her relentlessly.
He walked her backwards kissing her all the way, until her legs hit the couch, then the cold smooth leather was on her bare back, with Sam falling on top of her. Fingers quickly undoing buttons, pulling shirt tails from his pants, cufflinks hindering her progress briefly, before the gentle ping of metal hitting the floor made her heart race and her breathing quicken. She glanced lower to his belt. Was she willing to go to the next level with him? Her hesitation lasted but a few seconds, as she felt Sam hands cover hers and lead her toward his buckle. That was all the encouragement she needed as she opened his belt and undid the top button on his pants.
Sam moaned as she scratched at the trail of hair that led beyond the waistband of his boxers, his eyes closing as he leaned into her hands. He wrapped her legs around his waist, her long dress bunching up in a pool of black between them. Warm hands running up her thighs disappearing out of view to dip into her teal blue panties, clutching them in his fist, threatening to take them off. But he hesitated, leaning his head against her chest, breathing heavily. It seemed like minutes passed before he moved again, and then it was only to stare into her eyes.
"Do you remember the hospital?" he asked as he tangled his hand in her hair.
Mercedes smiled, still getting butterflies whenever he looked at her so intently. "How could I forget? We were so close."
"Yeah," he said returning her smile and placing a soft peck on her lips, moving away before she could respond. "You were so sweet then, and now look at you, legs around my waist, giving me hickeys."
Mercedes held her breath, her face falling at his words. "You don't like me like this?" she asked, the words choking her a bit.
"No, I do like it," he replied, outlining her face with a finger. "I don't know what's going to kill me first the sweetness or the fire."
"I don't understand."
"I shouldn't be doing this," he said leaning up slightly.
"Okay," Mercedes said trying to inch her way out from under him, but Sam didn't give her space. He remained sprawled on top of her. She wasn't sure what was going on with him now, she couldn't read his face, and his mood seemed to be somewhere between lust and regret.
Then just as suddenly as he stopped, he began again, kissing her with increased passion as his hands roamed her bare skin. He murmured what sounded like apologies against her throat, her neck, down her breasts. Mercedes tried to focus on his mumbled words, but her head was spinning from the feel of his mouth on her body.
"You taste so sweet," he said a bit clearer between kisses on her collarbone and the mounds of her breast, teasing them through the blue satin of her bra, making them ooze out of cups. The top of her dress was around her stomach, his jacket discarded, his shirt unbuttoned, skin to skin, and still not close enough, as he kissed every inch of her exposed skin.
"Sam," she said gasping for air when they finally broke apart. "Someone's in here."
Mercedes covered herself with her arms, as she readjusted her bra. She strained around Sam to see Santana Lopez standing a few feet away. If it had been two minutes later she would have been practically naked.
"OMG what are you doing? Well I know what you're doing, but why are you doing it with her?"
Sam looked up disoriented, his face still flushed from their physical activity. "Santana! What the hell? Can you get out of here please?"
"Not on your life," Santana crossed her arms and stood her ground. "What is it with you two and rooms with doors that don't lock?"
Sam sat up, moving from between Mercedes' legs, adjusting her dress so she was covered. He stood and faced Santana, only a couch separating them. "Santana, don't make me physically put you out."
"Be sure to pull your pants up first, tough guy," smirked Santana pointing to Sam's open pants and half exposed boxers. "And how is that any way to treat your Auntie Tana? Where's my hug? You better be nice to me or I'll tell Quinn I caught you trying to get the teeny-bopper naked."
"Get out of here! Or I will make you swallow my fist!" yelled Mercedes, jumping to her feet, ignoring the gaping opening at the back of her dress and advancing toward Santana. Santana was many inches taller, but Mercedes never was one to let being outmatched hold her back from a fight.
"Pipe down little tyke." Santana laughed, but backed up a few steps. "Sorry to interrupt your latest foray into exhibitionism, but I thought you might want to know that Quinn is giving a press conference."
"What? Where?" asked Sam, hurriedly buttoning his shirt.
"Right now and look, this one's streaming." Arms outstretched, perched between the index finger and thumb of each hand, Santana displayed her cellphone with a video of Quinn already playing.
"Ms. Fabray is it true you and Sam Evans are having an affair?" asked a female reporter in a gray suit with a matching short gray bob.
Quinn looked radiant, her blonde hair gleaming, and her eyes an unnatural shade of green on the screen. Her makeup was flawless, and her red dress highlighted her assets perfectly. She looked like she was born to be center stage.
"No it is not. We had a one night encounter last year when our daughter was conceived, but that's all. He's a married man, and I respect that relationship," she replied with a definitive nod of her head.
"Yeah right," Mercedes said in disgust.
"Shh!" Sam hissed, barely giving her a sideways glance. His eyes were glued to Santana's small cellphone screen.
"What about the picture of the two of you at the Holiday Inn?" asked the reporter. "You looked pretty cozy."
"Sam was there when I was released from the hospital. It was the first time we'd seen each other since his coma, so it was pretty emotional for us." She paused and smiled, tucking a stray hair behind her ears. "He is my best friend and I almost lost him, so yeah, we were cozy. He's been so good to me, even when I didn't deserve it, but he has always accepted me, even with all my faults. He always keeps his word and is totally honest with me. I value that." Tears shone in her eyes as she spoke, and Mercedes wanted to throw up at the sight. Quinn was so fake, acting like the grateful little friend, when in reality she was nothing but a man stealing slut. "I don't know why God blessed me with Sam in my life, but I am so glad he did."
"Sounds like you're in love with the guy," the reporter commented.
"He's a married man, but if I ever fall in love again, I hope he's just like Sam." A smile blossomed on Quinn's face and Mercedes' stomach lurched. Not because of Quinn, but because of Sam's reaction. He was smiling along with her, and a hint of a blush colored his cheeks. "I can't imagine a more perfect guy for me."
"Wow can't take your eyes off her can you Sam? Not even when you have a half dressed woman throwing herself at you." Santana snickered, tossing her black hair in Mercedes' direction.
"Sam, do you want to go somewhere else?" Mercedes asked quietly against his ear. She didn't want Santana to hear her attempt to pry Sam away from the video. Sam bowed his head after quickly glancing at Quinn on the screen and then over at Mercedes. If only she had a mirror to show him what she saw written prominently over his face.
"You don't have to answer. Your face says it all." Mercedes ran a hand through his cropped hair one last time, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. "I'm going to check on Beth," she said softly, walking away. She doubted Sam even noticed her departure, he was too mesmerized by Quinn.
Nothing had changed. Dreams were for other girls, and her wishes still didn't come true.