“Don’t settle for what others want to give you,” Edie Robinson had said last spring, shortly before she passed. “Grab happiness, baby. Get what you want.”
Mercy’s heart cramped, hurt over losing her mom still fresh enough to ache. She missed their talks. Her mom’s encouragement.
Not for this, of course. What Mercy was about to do wasn’t exactly what her mother had in mind. Shaking off her uncertainty, Mercy pulled a plate from beneath the counter. On it was her gift to Travis and Dutch. Treats she always offered them when they came here.
Travis reached the counter first, his long fingers wrapped around a bottle of Lipton’s Iced Tea and three packages of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.
Mercy’s mouth went dry. She imagined his hands on her, the pads of his thumbs dragging over her nipples, sending a thrum of delight through her body.
She managed a wobbly smile. He produced an interested grin, making a dimple in his beard–shadowed cheek. Her belly fluttered and her heart sank. His attention was on the plate she’d set out, not her.
“Hey,” she murmured, soft and warm.
His gaze flicked up. A flash of heat burned in his dreamy eyes before it faded beneath what appeared to be confusion. As though he hadn’t expected that sultry greeting to have come from her. “Hey.”
His voice was so fucking deep and rough, Mercy had difficulty breathing. Jill made a noise that sounded too turned on. Mercy kicked her friend’s running shoe; an order for her to beat it.
Jill pivoted and hurried off, her narrow shoulders drawn to her skinny body, her blonde ponytail bouncing over her thin neck.
“Want one?” Mercy breathed to Travis. She stroked the lip of the plate with the same care she would his balls and cock. If he’d only let her.
Travis studied her breasts as though he’d never noticed them before, which he hadn’t. Given the unusual summer heat, the air conditioning had kicked on, making it nicely chilly in here. The cold air had pebbled Mercy’s nipples against her stretchy cotton tee. When she’d seen him and Dutch pull up, she’d ditched her shapeless Fast Fill jacket.
Travis’s sexy smile said he appreciated her boobs.
Mercy pulled back her shoulders to give him an even better look at her chest.
Joining them, Dutch dropped packs of M&M’s and Lay’s potato chips on the counter. “What’s this?” He regarded the plate.
Travis dragged his attention back to the gourmet cupcakes. Mercy had baked them this morning, hoping he and Dutch would show up as they usually did on Sunday afternoons. Their only time off.
“Breakfast and dessert,” she cooed.
Travis lifted one dark eyebrow. Dutch had finally discovered her tight–as–hell nipples and remained riveted on them. “Huh?”
Mercy’s skin prickled with excitement and more than a little lust. “Technically, they’re bacon and banana cupcakes, with maple, peanut butter, and bacon topping.”
She ran her finger over the edge of one then offered a taste of the frosting to both men. Eager to know who’d lick her first. “Try it. It’s as good as the other stuff I’ve given you.”
They reached for her at the same time, their hands bumping each other. Dutch curled his fingers around her wrist. Before he could lift her hand, Travis drew Mercy’s finger between his lips.
She blinked wildly. Her pulse pounded out of control at the wet heat of his mouth and Dutch running his thumb over her wrist. Travis suckled gently, swirling his tongue around Mercy’s nail, driving her crazy with need.
“Hmm.” His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed with his swallow.
She fought an insane urge to lick it and his bristly throat.
“You should try this,” he said to Dutch.
“I was about to.” He twisted his mouth at her finger, still damp from Travis’s awesome tongue. Dutch kept stroking her skin, until he seemed to realize what he was doing. After releasing her, he grabbed a cupcake and devoured half of it in one bite. Frosting clung to the corners of his mouth.
Mesmerized, Mercy watched him chew.
He swallowed. “Fuck–I mean, damn, this is good. Even better than the other ones you’ve made.”
Travis nodded as he gobbled his cupcake. Another strand of hair swayed forward, grazing his unshaven cheek.
Sex radiated from them, weakening every part of Mercy’s body, making her reckless and bold.
“I have a proposition,” she whispered.
Dutch’s chews slowed. Travis forced down a swallow and frowned. “What? Didn’t hear that.”
She spoke louder. “A proposition. I have one.”
The men stared at her, then exchanged a glance.
Mercy talked fast. “Greg came in here yesterday on his way out of town. Told me he just quit your place. We got to talking. His cabin’s still available, right? I need a place to stay. My rent’s going up again next month. I’d like the cabin. It’s more in line with what I can afford.”
It was her best chance to be close, work whatever magic she could, get them to notice her as a woman, and hopefully take her to bed at the same time. A heady dream. Not unlike her yearning for love.
Mercy wasn’t foolish enough to believe she’d get that from either of them, even though it was her most cherished fantasy. To bring these macho guys to their knees, turn them inside out with their aching passion for her.
“Ah,” Travis said first, his expression cautious, light years from aroused. “I was hoping to rent it to another cook for the saloon.”
“That’s me.” Without thinking, Mercy ran her finger over the corner of his mouth, removing a speck of frosting, then did the same with Dutch.
They didn’t move. Not even to breathe or blink.
Slowly, she licked the frosting from her finger. They watched. She said, “I can cook.”
“Mercy’s great,” Jill suddenly announced from behind the guys, her hands stalled above the shelves she’d been stocking. “She can bake anything you want. Trust me. I can’t eat enough of her stuff.”
Dutch didn’t look convinced. Most likely because of Jill’s painfully thin bod.
“Well yeah, you can bake,” Travis said, grabbing another cupcake. “No one’s disputing that. But we’re talking about cooking.”
Mercy grabbed his wrist, her fingers not even close to encircling it. The thick black band he wore was soft and seductive beneath her palm, the leather conjuring images of restrictive corsets and straps used for discipline. A whimper bubbled up. She shoved it back down. Running her thumb over his, Mercy kept him from lifting the second cupcake to his mouth and lied through her teeth. “I can cook.”
How hard could it be? Bikers went to Smooth Rider for booze and possibly brawls, not five–star cuisine. Greasy chili, burgers, and fries couldn’t be that difficult to pull off.
Travis’s expression said he wasn’t so sure.
“I can also clean,” she added. “I’ll take care of your cabins and the saloon, in exchange for a reduction in rent, of course.”
Jill pumped her fist into the air and mouthed, You go, girl.
On a roll, Mercy spoke breathily, “I can move in tonight and start first thing tomorrow afternoon, after I get off here.”
Travis watched her fingers running over his. To her surprise, he didn’t pull his hand away. He cleared his throat. “You’re going to work two jobs?”
Mercy flushed at his slightly strangled words. Was that from desire? “Sure. I’ve done it before.” She was already working days here and baking at night, selling her gourmet cupcakes to the touristy places in town. “I can manage anything. Even you two.”
Jill waved her arms above her head and made a face they couldn’t see, telling Mercy she’d gone too far.
True. Travis and Dutch’s expressions morphed from mild interest to renewed caution.
“Us?” Travis asked.
Mercy froze, not knowing what to say, then she had it. “I’m not passing judgment, but being men, you’re probably slobs.”
Dutch shrugged good–nature
dly. “You’ve got us there.”
“Say yes,” she said, letting go of Travis’s hand, regretting the loss of his heat immediately. “If you don’t, I won’t have anywhere else to stay. Right, Jill?”
The men turned to her.
Jill’s eyes rounded, giving her the look of a felon at a police interrogation. “Oh…ah…well yeah,” she stumbled, then gathered steam. “I mean, there aren’t any other places Mercy can afford. She’s like really desperate, you know?”
Looking skeptical, Travis faced Mercy. “You can move tonight? You don’t have to give your landlord notice or anything?”
She’d do that as soon as he and Dutch said yes. Screw the deposit and her landlord’s bellyaching. This was more important. “I’ve been month–to–month for a while now. I’m paid up till the middle of next week when the new rent kicks in. After that, I might be living out of my car.”
“It’s about to die,” Jill said. “Has over a hundred thousand miles on it. Leaks oil like crazy.”
“What about your family?” Dutch asked. “They can’t help?”
“I’m it,” Mercy said, answering truthfully. She’d never known her dad. Her mom hadn’t been close to her few relatives. None of them had even bothered to come to the service.
Something passed over Travis’s face, as though he understood how alone she was.
Not wanting to bum him out or spook Dutch, Mercy insisted, “I can take care of myself. I’m a hard worker. I won’t let you down.”
“I never said you would,” Travis murmured. He paused, then spoke to Dutch. “We could give it a try. For a couple of months,” he cautioned her. “If that doesn’t work out, we’ll think of something else to help you get back on your feet.”
“It’ll work out,” Mercy said.
Suddenly serious, Dutch shook his head. “Nothing’s forever, babe.” He pulled out his wallet to pay for his stuff.
Travis did the same, dropping his cash on the counter. “A couple of months it is.”
Despite the time limit and Dutch’s gloomy comment, Mercy had to keep herself from moaning in delight.
She gave them their change. If they noticed how her hand shook, neither of them let on. “I’ll see you guys tonight then. Is six–thirty or so okay?”
“You have anything going then?” Travis asked Dutch.
“Not now.”
Travis spoke to Mercy, “Looks like we’re on.”
She nodded, not unlike a faithful pet that wanted only to please. Should have bothered her, but it didn’t. Mercy had other plans for herself, and them.
Just short of the door, Travis stopped and looked back.
She smiled, unable to resist, pleasure humming through her.
Whatever went through his mind, Travis kept it hidden. So did Dutch, as he also stopped to regard her one last time. As though she was a product they’d just bought but weren’t completely certain about.
Mercy hoped to convince them they’d made the right choice.
Once outside, they moved in silence to Travis’s pickup and got in.
Jill craned her neck, watching them disappear down the road before she hurried to Mercy. “Wow. That was awesome. I’m so happy for you.” She threw her arms around her. “This is just what you wanted.”
Actually, more than Mercy had hoped for. Hugging Jill, she jumped up and down, both of them squealing.
Maybe it wouldn’t work out as Dutch had warned. But at least she was giving it a try. Who knew what could happen in a couple of months, weeks, days, or even hours?
Stopped at a red light, Travis finished half his tea, appreciating its iciness. Not that it did much good. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. With the chilled bottle pressed to his throat, he jacked up the air conditioner’s blower, directing the flow to his chest and groin.
Dutch did the same with his.
They both blew air from between their teeth like guys who’d just regained consciousness after a fight, bruised and bloody, not knowing what the hell had hit them.
Travis spoke first. “What the fuck just happened back there?”
“With Mercy?”
Travis gave Dutch a ’who else?’ look. “She was different today. Didn’t you notice?”
“Of course I did. I’m not blind.” He upended one of the M&M’s bags into his mouth. The noise from his crunchy chews mingled with the strains of Tim McGraw’s Lookin’ for That Girl.
Travis changed the station to hip–hop, a tune about badasses battling cops, rather than a man searching for love.
Dutch tongued his teeth then swallowed. “If her nipples had been any tighter, they would have poked holes through her top. Not that I’m complaining. Mercy’s got a fucking nice rack. Hell, until today, I didn’t know she was built like that.”
Neither had Travis. She’d always seemed so innocent. The kind of cute that made a man smile. He realized he was grinning and stopped. Until today, he’d thought of her as being so young. Could be it was the freckles sprinkled across her nose or the fact that she was only five–two, five–three tops. Small compared to him and Dutch, but fully grown…nicely grown…with decidedly lush curves.
Up went the blower again. He shoved his fingers through his hair, remembering hers. Long and silky, a chestnut color that went well with her pure green eyes.
And what about her voice. Huskier than it had ever been. Definitely not innocent or cute. Her fingers had circled his wrist in a surprisingly intimate way. The look she’d given him right before he’d left was something else too.
Her smile had made Travis harder than stone, urging him to do all sorts of lewd things. Like bending her over the counter, pulling down her jeans and panties–if she wore any–then paddling her because she’d been bad. Offering him and Dutch her frosting–covered finger when she should have chosen him first.
Travis had no idea why he’d feel that way. There wasn’t anything he enjoyed more than being between a woman’s glorious legs. For a good time. Period. End of story. He didn’t need to be special to them. The thought of commitment made his gut roll. Before coming here and starting a new life, he’d been nothing but responsibility. He’d practically sold his fucking soul for everyone else’s happiness and sure as hell wouldn’t make that same mistake again. For anyone.
Yet, he’d been challenged, or maybe pissed, when Mercy hadn’t chosen him first.
For that, she deserved punishment. After paddling her, he’d work his cock from his jeans, running the crown up and down her dewy cunt. She’d be dripping with desire, ready for anything. Especially him.
While Dutch waited his turn, Travis would take his sweet time mounting her. He’d burrow deep, held by Mercy’s tight, wet warmth. Lazily, he’d slide in and out of her slippery sheath before picking up the pace. Fast–slow–fast he’d go, waiting for her to cry out in pleasure, making certain her body accommodated his.
Her cunt would squeeze him dry. Breathless and weak, he’d struggle to stay awake as Dutch enjoyed her. They’d go at Mercy repeatedly, until she was too limp to escape their hungry embrace. They’d imprison her between their bodies. Doing whatever the hell they wanted to her with their mouths, hands, rods, because she desired it too.
Which was fucking nuts. This was sweet Mercy he suddenly wanted to nail. Lonely little Mercy. “I’m it,” she’d said. A person without a family, a real home, the same as him. Except for one huge difference. Travis had willingly made that choice and he didn’t have to worry about money, never would, as she obviously did.
Fuck. Having her live and work in such close proximity to them couldn’t possibly lead to anything except trouble, mainly for her. Then he’d have to let Mercy go, probably sooner than later, with her having nowhere to stay. No one to care for or to protect–
The car behind him honked. Travis flinched and gunned his pickup. It shot across the intersection. He muttered, “She’s a nice girl. I like her, dammit.” Mercy was one of the few women who was easy to be around. He could be himself. Totally fucked up, and she didn’t se
em to notice in the least. “She shouldn’t be living in Greg’s cabin or working at the saloon. Why’d you say yes?”
“Me?” Dutch spoke with a mouthful of potato chips and M&M’s. “You were the one who said okay first.”
“Only because she needs a place to stay. You should have said no.”
“When you seemed to be all for it? Why am I supposed to be the bad cop?”
Because it would have kept her from moving in. Travis could have offered her money instead of a temporary home and a shitty job. It would have been a cleaner, simpler solution. Why hadn’t he thought of that at the time? If he mentioned it now, she’d wonder why and would probably guess the truth. He didn’t want her around. Hell, talk about hurting her feelings.
He muttered an oath.
“What’s the big deal?” Dutch said. “It’s only a couple of months. I’m the one who told her things don’t last forever.”
One of the reasons Travis liked the man. Dutch didn’t believe in happy–ever–after any more than he did.
They’d met when Travis’s bike had blown a tire. He’d been crisscrossing the country after cutting off all ties in San Francisco. He’d just returned to the Oregon coast when he needed the repair. At the time, Dutch had been working at a franchise shop. After his shift, they’d hit a couple of bars, got drunk, and talked about their dreams of working for themselves.
Months later, Travis had bought the old motel property, setting them both up in business. They’d gotten along fine and had the same goal when it came to women. Screw like monkeys then cut out. No strings or regrets.
Mercy didn’t know that. Maybe she didn’t have to, because she didn’t want either of them that way.
Yeah, right. Travis recalled her soft, yearning expression as he’d sucked her finger. Her skin had practically glowed when Dutch had stared at her boobs, her hunger naked and helpless. She wanted them bad. Possibly for more than a good time.
Which neither of them was willing to give.
“While she’s around, we keep our distance,” Travis said.
Dutch crumpled the empty candy bag in his fist. “From each other?”
Brought to His Knees-Tough Guys Laid Low By Love Page 84