by Sabrina York
They weren’t.
Disappointment and uncertainty knotted her stomach. She motioned Jill over and whispered, “Are we early?”
“Nope,” she hushed. “Right on time.”
“Do you think they forgot?” Already? Barely six hours had passed since she’d propositioned them.
“They wouldn’t do that to you,” Jill assured, rubbing Mercy’s back. “Why are we whispering?”
Mercy felt like an unwelcomed intruder. As though she’d stumbled onto the guys while they crawled all over another woman.
Aw crud, they couldn’t be with someone now, could they? That would be too awful. She’d never recover from that humilia—
Her thoughts halted at the sound of footfalls. Not on gravel. On wood.
Like a well-rehearsed dance team, Mercy and Jill turned to the left. Beyond the saloon was a cabin Mercy hadn’t noticed. Travis and Dutch crossed its brief porch, filled trash bags in each hand, their chests tantalizingly bare.
“God,” Jill whispered.
Mercy leaned into her friend for support, dizzy at the sight of all those male muscles. Travis’s chest was deliciously broad, his hard pecs lightly dusted with dark hair. It trickled in a line down his firm torso to beneath the waistband of his low-slung jeans. His bulge seemed larger than it had earlier. The tat on his bicep was pure male. Bold and wild.
Mercy whimpered then studied Dutch. She whimpered again.
His chest was nothing but smooth, golden skin, his tiny nipples the color of milk chocolate. At the top of the stairs, he stopped and turned, facing the cabin’s front door.
Mercy sucked in a breath. A stunning tat covered his entire back from shoulders to waist, even spilling onto his biceps. Most of it was of a soaring eagle. The rest, lines and whorls.
Jill moaned. “You are so lucky.”
Mercy’s cheeks hurt from grinning so hard. She moved closer, unable to help herself.
Travis reached the bottom step. Finally seeing her, he stopped so abruptly Dutch ran into him.
“Hey,” Dutch complained, his voice carrying across the front lot. “Move.”
Travis didn’t budge. In rapid succession, he regarded Mercy’s face, her boobs, bared midriff, shorts, thighs, boots. From there, his attention jumped to her hat before settling on her boobs once more, lingering there.
So much for the power of makeup.
Never had Mercy felt as exposed, not even when she’d been naked with her few and fleeting boyfriends. Oddly enough, pleasure mingled with her disquiet. Travis hadn’t laughed.
Neither had Dutch. Noticing her, he also stared, his jaw hanging.
By god, she’d stunned them to silence with desire.
Coarse lust flooded their faces. Their luscious shoulders bunched, as though they were trying to control themselves.
Mercy hoped they wouldn’t.
Travis moved first. He dropped the bags and stalked toward her, his body oiled, loose, similar to a panther’s.
Jill stepped back.
Mercy remained frozen to the spot, unable and unwilling to retreat. Travis stopped directly in front, towering over her, his skin scented with a heady mixture of lime and musk. Lightheaded, she lifted her face, overwhelmed by his beauty and size, the thought of his naked body pressed to hers. “Hey.”
Travis didn’t seem to notice how rusty her voice sounded. He studied her mouth and searched her gaze, lingering there, as though he couldn’t help himself.
She didn’t want him to. Could eyes really be that color? A deeper blue than the sky. Mercy became so lost in them and the moment she didn’t notice Dutch’s approach until he came up beside her. His heat and clean, woodsy scent demanded she notice his presence. He’d stuck his thumbs in his front pockets, long fingers pointing to the prize between his legs.
Mercy’s toes curled as well as they could in her boots. She forced herself to stop admiring that part of him, dragging her focus back to his face.
He gave her a welcoming smile.
Her body softened even more. She leaned toward him, drawn irresistibly closer. “Hey.”
Travis spoke before Dutch could. “So it is you. I wasn’t sure.”
Mercy blushed at his abrupt greeting, catching his disapproval. She’d been so worried he’d laugh, she’d never considered he’d object to how she looked.
It was obvious in his arched eyebrow. He’d crossed his arms over his chest.
Clearly, Dutch didn’t feel the same. Delight played over his features as he took in her full length.
Confidence replaced Mercy’s misgiving. Rather than show Travis how he’d hurt her, she decided to kill him with kindness and gave him one of her sweetest smiles. “Sorry, you didn’t recognize me. It’s probably because you’ve never seen me away from Fast Fill. If you had, you’d know this is how I really look. Right, Jill?”
“What?”
She was checking out both men’s chest. Mercy repeated, “I usually look like this away from work, right?”
“Oh hey, yeah. You should see her other outfits. They’re even hotter than this one.”
Mercy’s smile wobbled. Now, she’d have to shop for more. Before Dutch asked to see any of them or Travis got even grimmer, she pulled a check from her front pocket and offered it to him. “My first and last months’ rent. I didn’t include a security deposit, figuring my cleaning and cooking the first month would cover it.”
Travis tightened his arms. Prominent veins bulged on his biceps.
Mercy would have given a year of her life for the pleasure of licking them.
“Keep it,” he said.
Her belly cramped. She blurted. “You’re changing your mind? You can’t. I’ve already moved out. I don’t have anywhere else to go. I’d have to live in my car.”
“It leaks oil,” Jill said.
Travis ignored her. “I haven’t changed my mind. Keep it. You can stay here for free. Save your money for the first and last months’ rent on another place after your two months here are up.”
That’s all he was giving her was two months? “You said several.”
He stepped closer, crowding her. Mercy didn’t back away.
“I said a couple,” Travis corrected. “That’s two. With what I’ll pay you to clean and cook, you should be able to save enough in that time for another place.”
“You agree with this?” she asked Dutch.
“I own the cabin you’ll be using,” Travis said. “My call.”
“And it’s my money,” she countered. “Or rather yours.” Mercy stuffed the folded check beneath the waistband of his jeans and underwear, not caring how deep her fingers sank. Touching his hot skin, the silky hair that dipped toward his groin, was fucking worth it.
Color rose to Travis’s face. He looked down.
Mercy finally pulled out her hand and steadied her voice. “I don’t stay anywhere for free. Come on,” she said to Jill, gesturing her toward the pickup. “Let’s unpack my stuff.”
“Whoa.” Travis grabbed Mercy’s upper arm.
Tingles shot down it, curling in her stomach, dipping to her pussy. God help her, she longed to weaken against him, drown in his heat, the scent of his body. She stiffened instead. “Change your mind again?”
“We’ll bring your stuff inside.” He inclined his head to Dutch.
Mercy kept her attention on Travis. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of my—”
“Yeah, I know.” He eased her closer and bent his head, his lips close to her ear. “But you don’t know where to put it.”
Wrong. Mercy knew exactly where she wanted his cock and tongue. Deep inside her. Trouble was, Travis seemed determined to fight that despite his hunger. Mercy sensed his desire in the way he leaned into her, his thumb rubbing her arm, his mouth still close to her ear.
She turned her face to his, their lips a breath away, the world dipping and swaying around her. “If you say so.”
A long moment passed, his expression becoming blurry. From need? Indecision? Whatever it was, Tr
avis stopped stroking her arm and stepped back. “I do. You and your friend stay out here.”
Mercy lifted her eyebrows. “I don’t even get to see my cabin?”
“Sure you can,” Dutch said, then spoke to Travis. “If she’s going to be here for several months, we should at least show it to her.”
Travis tightened his jaw, but didn’t correct Dutch on his slip of the tongue.
“It’s the one on the left.” Dutch swung his arm toward the cabin with the trash bags out front. “We were just cleaning it up.”
Mercy nodded, not bothering to look. His abs were amazing. So sculpted she could count each one. “Greg was a real pig, huh?”
Travis muttered. “Wait till you see the saloon’s kitchen.”
He really wanted to get rid of her, not allowing anything to happen between them. Unwilling to settle for that, Mercy dug in her heels. “I’m sure I’ll live.”
Travis put out his hand. “Keys.”
She looked at him dumbly. “To what?”
“The pickup. So I can pull it closer to the cabin. Wouldn’t want Dutch getting a hernia hauling your stuff across the lot.”
Dutch shot Travis a look then slung his arm around Mercy’s shoulders. Her knees bent slightly from its wonderful weight, his arousing fragrance.
“Don’t you worry,” he murmured to her. “No one’s getting hurt here. Right, buddy?”
The two men exchanged a glance Mercy couldn’t begin to interpret. Without comment, Travis pulled the check from his waistband, shoved it in his front pocket, and strode to the pickup.
Luckily, the keys were in the ignition. If they hadn’t been, Travis figured he might have stormed back to Dutch and slugged the bastard.
What in the fuck was the matter with him? Hadn’t they agreed that neither of them would come on to Mercy no matter what she did? That included her showing up in an outfit that made Travis’s balls twitch, along with pushing her hand into his jeans, her baby-soft fingers stopping just shy of his goddamn cock.
The stupid thing was still so rigid he couldn’t get comfortable. Feeling everyone’s eyes on him, especially Mercy’s, Travis refused to adjust himself in the seat.
She’d claimed he didn’t know what she wore away from work. Not even close to true. A few times he’d seen her leaving the grocery store or entering one of the fast food joints. Never had she decked herself out like today. Her lips glossy and red as though she’d just bitten into a juicy strawberry. Smoky green makeup around her eyes. Hair falling in silky curls to her breasts.
The splash of freckles across her nose, that straw hat and those cowgirl boots all super cute.
Killing his smile, Travis drove past her and the others, the tires kicking up a shitload of dust.
The ladies coughed and swatted air. Dutch led the way to Greg’s old cabin.
Travis noticed how Mercy dragged behind, getting an eyeful of the tat on Dutch’s back. Her cheeks pinked up even more. The girl with her practically drooled.
New rule. Everyone living here had to be dressed at all times.
Travis slammed the pickup’s door and went around to the bed.
Mercy reached it just as he did. “Can you hand me the cooler?” She pointed to it.
She’d painted her nails the same shade as her lips. He recalled her finger in his mouth, how good the frosting and her skin had tasted. A sudden shock of heat spread from Travis’s belly to his crotch.
“There’s a fridge inside, right?” she asked.
It took him a moment to catch up. He nodded. “Your own private bath too.” Just in case she’d planned to use the one in Dutch’s cabin or his, driving both of them over the edge.
“Thanks.” She took the cooler from him and pulled out a single-wrapped Popsicle. Cherry-flavored. “Want one?”
Travis’s answer died in his throat at her tongue snaking around the tip of the pop. She worked the treat between her lips, in and out, as she would a man’s stiffened rod. Unable to speak, he shook his head.
Mercy licked the corners of her mouth, her tongue stained scarlet. “If you do later, go ahead and take as many as you want. Sure is hot today.”
His damn underwear was practically smoking.
After giving him another smile, she followed her girlfriend to the cabin. Like a lovesick puppy, Travis followed, staring at Mercy’s plush ass, the backs of her thighs. All that pale, smooth skin had him breathing hard.
She stopped. He couldn’t, at least not quickly enough, and bumped into her, his cock snuggled against her butt. Mercy looked over, submission in her eyes, a drop of Popsicle juice on her lower lip.
It glittered in the afternoon light, inviting him to taste its sweetness, the cushiony comfort of her mouth.
With a shitting lot of willpower, Travis stepped back, letting Mercy lick her lip before he did.
On a sigh, she turned from him and considered the cabin’s interior again. Bright and clean, smelling of disinfectant and Febreze. He and Dutch had worked on the damn place for hours.
“Wow. This is really nice.” Mercy touched the wooden bedframe, small kitchen set, and freshly washed curtains as though they were made of gold.
Travis wondered what she would think of his old place in one of San Francisco’s most exclusive high rises, or his parents’ many mansions. He’d willingly walked away from so much when she hadn’t had the choice. Rotten luck had caused her to be alone, to work at Fast Fill and here in order to take care of herself.
Mercy didn’t seem to mind or care about money at all. In that they were so alike, making Travis admire and like her even more.
She offered a grateful smile. “You did an awesome job.”
“Way better than Carl would have,” the girl with her gushed, then added, “I’m Jill by the way. Carl’s my guy. That’s his pickup you drove,” she said to Travis. “Thanks for not hitting anything with it.”
Dutch chuckled.
Mercy gave him and her friend a disapproving look. “Travis wasn’t driving that fast. He’s just in a hurry to get me moved in. Do you have plans later?” She spoke to him and Dutch. “Either of you? Am I interfering?”
Travis had thought about calling one of the women he knew, maybe grab a pizza, catch a movie, screw until they were both raw then call it a night. “Nope. Dutch probably does.”
“I don’t,” he said immediately, and smiled at Mercy. “We’re all yours.”
She nodded slowly and licked the length of her Popsicle.
Travis’s throat constricted. He cleared it and said, “After we bring in your things, we’ll set up the ground rules for this arrangement.” He gestured to Dutch. “Let’s go.”
When they reached the pickup’s bed, Dutch spoke quietly. “Ground rules? You mean her hours of work. What she’s supposed to do.”
“Yeah, along with you keeping your jeans zipped and wearing a damn shirt when she’s around.”
“Like you’re doing? Oh wait, you’re not.”
“I didn’t wrap my arm around her.”
“It was a friendly gesture. Hell, I do the same with my grandmother. It’s not a felony.”
Travis lowered his voice even more, so Mercy wouldn’t overhear. “You’re actually going to fuck around with her. You don’t give a goddamn about her getting hurt.”
“Who the fuck said she’s going to be hurt? We set the ground rules, just like you told her. That means fun and nothing more, exactly like millions of other people do all the time. She sure as hell looks as though she’s ready to play, or didn’t you notice the way she’s sucking that damn Popsicle?” Dutch grinned then sobered. “Not to mention what she’s wearing. If she agrees that this is just a diversion for all of us, no strings, what’s the fucking problem? We’re all adults. She’s of age. It’s her decision. You can’t stop her. Why in the hell would you want to? I’ve seen you with other women. You’ve never been such a hardass before.”
Because those women hadn’t looked at him as Mercy had so often in the past. Not sexy or vaguely predatory, but in
wonder. As though he made the world spin and had done a pissing good job of it.
Travis leaned against the pickup. “Haven’t you noticed how Mercy stares at us? Like we’re some kind of fucking gods. For her, this isn’t about getting laid and having a good time. It’s serious. I know you. You’re closer to me than my goddamn brothers ever were. You’re not a bad man. You don’t use women.”
Dutch’s eyes rounded. He whispered. “Who said I was going to use her? We’ll all agree—”
“Until we don’t,” Travis interrupted. “Think you could turn away from her then without any regret? Think you’d be able to live with yourself once you’ve hurt her? Haven’t you seen the awe in her eyes? You honestly can use what she feels to get what you want and tell yourself that’s all right?”
Not when he put it that way. Dutch felt like a goddamn bastard, and he hadn’t even done anything with Mercy yet, except in his mind. This was nuts. Travis had to be overreacting. Dutch whispered, “You’re sure she thinks we’re that special? It isn’t possible you’re only imagining it?”
“Look at her eyes instead of her damn tits and ass. Pay attention to how she looks at you. Like you can hang the damn moon, when all you’re doing is breathing.”
Dutch grunted at the two pieces of luggage Travis had tossed at him. With one under each arm, he tramped into Mercy’s cabin.
Her cheeks flushed in what appeared to be pleasure. Happiness glittered in her eyes.
Because she liked the way they’d fixed things up. She was simply appreciative. “Where do you want this?” He hefted the luggage beneath his arms.
She stared at his nipples, then swung her finger to the right. “Over there’s fine.”
He dropped her stuff near the table. Mercy smiled as though he’d given her a priceless gift.
Dutch turned away. Either she was merely being gracious, or Travis was right. This wouldn’t be about sex for her. She did think he and Travis were more than either of them could ever be. Uncertain, Dutch mumbled, “I’ll bring the rest of your stuff in.”