I was so going to be bad with Merry.
But right then, I was so far gone, I had to stick with good.
“Harder, Merry,” I breathed.
“How you get that?”
“Please,” I pleaded.
His mouth brushed mine. Then his tongue slid across my lower lip. I went for more and he pulled away, but he rolled harder with his finger, so I pressed my head to the wall.
“Yeah, honey,” I encouraged breathlessly.
“Work that,” he growled.
I worked it, rolling with him, helping him take me there, breathing erratically, my nipples hard and aching, brushing incessantly against his chest. I felt his mouth at my ear, sucking my lobe between his lips, his tongue touching the tip.
So little.
So much.
“Merry,” I gasped, my hips now moving desperately, my nipples no longer brushing because he’d pushed into me, my breasts now pressed against the hard wall of his chest. I felt the edge of his teeth skim down the taut flesh of my neck and that was it. “Merry!”
Not even close to in control, my head snapped back into the wall before dropping forward to hit his shoulder and my body tensed from wrists to toes. His finger kept at my clit and I drew in repeated soft breaths in quick succession as I experienced the sweet release.
I started trembling as it took its wondrous time coursing through me. I turned my head and pushed my forehead into his neck, barely noticing his hand release my wrists. My arms floated down to round his shoulders and hold on as he reduced the pressure at my clit but kept rolling, guiding me through the last pulses of the brilliant orgasm he gave me. And as if he could feel it drift away, when it did, he cupped me.
I held on loosely, unable to latch on, my body like a rag doll. Luckily, Merry had shifted an arm around my back to keep me steady as I fought to even my breathing.
Merry didn’t help with that as he gently slid his hand from my jeans, shifted slightly, just enough to get his hand between us, and I watched up close, my head still in his neck, his chin dipping down, as he slid his middle finger, wet with me, between his lips.
I spasmed in his arms.
He felt my reaction, and I knew this when he drew my finger out and his lips curved up in a sexy, cocky grin. He retraced his path between us with his hand, then obliterated any space by wrapping his arm around me, drawing me tight to him with both arms and turning his head.
I lifted mine marginally, catching his eyes, which didn’t have even a hint of ice, before my eyes closed when his mouth took mine and he kissed me.
There was a vague taste of me on his lips, but the rest of it was Merry and I knew instantly, with a heady feeling, he would not give even a little control of that kiss to me.
It was wet, long, thorough, soft, and sweet.
He gave what he just gave, so that was all for Merry.
And it was a beginning that even me, who’d managed to read a lot of important things wrong in my life, couldn’t miss.
When he released my lips, he stayed close, drawing his nose along the side of mine, our positions meaning our eyes had difficulty meeting.
But we managed it.
“How you doin’?” he asked quietly.
That made me want to laugh, the question was so damned crazy.
I was limp in his arms.
Hell, I was in his arms.
How did he think I was doing?
“I’m hangin’ in there.”
He found humor in my response too; I saw it light his gaze.
It sobered as he murmured, “My brown-eyed girl.”
I sobered too, that feeling hitting my eyes again as I whispered, “Merry.”
If I meant to say more (which I didn’t know if I did or didn’t), I couldn’t when he gave me a fierce squeeze.
“Means a lot, you takin’ a shot at this with me.”
Oh God.
I had to give it to him.
I had to.
I couldn’t fuck this up again. Not for him. Not for me.
“Means a lot to me too.”
His sober eyes warmed.
“Like your boy, Cherie. Wanna get a chance to get to know him better when the time is right for you. But that’s gonna wait. Right now, wanna know when you’re next day off is ’cause just you and me are goin’ to Swank’s.”
And it came again. Something I’d never had. Something I’d never felt. Something incredible given to me by Merry.
This time it was him asking me on our first date and telling me that date would be at Swank’s, a fashionable, expensive restaurant in Indy.
This meant not a bullshit date.
This was a big-time, whole hog, in your face, this means something to me, we’re gonna ride it out but we’re gonna start that ride right date.
“Swank’s?” I whispered.
“You got a nice dress?”
I didn’t have one good enough for Swank’s. But I’d steal one if I had to.
“Yes,” I lied.
He smiled.
Oh God.
“Night off, babe,” he prompted.
“Feb doubled me up. This week, Thursday and Friday.”
“I’ll get us in Swank’s tomorrow.”
Oh God.
He wasn’t messing around.
“I’m scared.”
There I was again with the blurting.
His smile died, but his arms got tighter. “I know.”
We stared at each other without either of us saying more.
This lasted a long time and it was time I didn’t want to end, standing in my living room in Garrett Merrick’s arms.
It seemed, since he didn’t move, he agreed with me.
But life was life, so eventually we’d have to let go of that moment.
And, not surprisingly, it was Merry who was the one who had the strength to do it.