He’d watched her through the window, smiling when she bit her lip in deep concentration. Before she caught him spying, Travis had dragged himself here and had fallen into bed. All night he’d dreamt of her body smeared with chocolate and caramel sauce. Pieces of toffee decorated her nipples, navel, and the curls between her legs.
He’d gorged on the confections, his true intent to get to the real treat…her skin. Dewy and soft. Its allure enhanced by her natural musk.
Travis groaned. He smelled her now, the fragrance imbedded in his brain, robbing him of sleep. He dragged his hand down his face and stopped.
What was that?
Listening hard, he heard a hissing or whooshing noise. Water running? On a pained grunt, Travis pushed to one elbow and glanced around the murky space.
A car whizzed past on the road.
On a rough sigh, he sank back to bed, then turned and stared at his closed bathroom door. A sliver of light at the bottom that shouldn’t be there.
What the fuck?
Acting on raw impulse and a surge of adrenaline, Travis rolled off the mattress, grabbed his baseball bat, and pushed open the door.
Mercy flinched. Wet hair clung to her forehead, cheeks, neck. She smelled of soap and shampoo. A large towel hid her nudity except for her bare arms and legs. She gaped at his weapon, then his cock.
Travis had forgotten he was naked. Didn’t change the heaviness that settled in his groin, telling him he was getting hard. Too stunned to cover himself, too aroused to move, he choked out his words. “What in the hell are you doing in here?”
She drew her shoulders in, which managed to plump her breasts.
More blood pooled in his shaft, thickening it.
Mercy moved toward him rather than away. “There’s no hot water in my cabin. It was no big deal last night when I was rinsing my bowls, but for a shower…”
She trailed off then started again, speaking more quickly. “I knocked. You didn’t answer. The door wasn’t locked. I didn’t think I’d wake you. I have my cupcake delivery then I have to go to Fast Fill. Jill will be here in a few minutes. She’s bringing my car over. Sorry.”
He’d already leaned against the doorjamb and continued to breathe hard, remembering something he’d forgotten. When Greg left, Travis had turned the man’s hot water heater off to save a few bucks. Austerity he’d learned from his parents, who had more money than God but far less compassion.
“Did I scare you?” Mercy regarded his bat.
He’d thought she was a biker, hoping to find cash or drugs. “No. Yeah. It’s all right.” He backed away from her, his rigid rod bouncing with each step.
She followed, watching it dance in front of his tightened balls.
The backs of Travis’s legs hit his mattress. He sank to it, wondering if she’d keep coming. If he wanted that.
Okay, so he did, which was stupid. “I’ll fix your water heater before you get back.” He cleared the rasp from his voice. “And anything else that doesn’t work. Leave me a list.”
“Thanks.” She ran her fingertips over her chest. Pearls of water clung to it and her hair, glittering in the faint bathroom light. Her clean, flowery fragrance wafted toward him.
Travis couldn’t breathe. Think.
Their silence grew, electrifying the moment, filling it with all sorts of wicked promise. He squeezed his fingers around the bat, fighting for restraint. Mercy studied him as though she were trying to read his soul.
Travis tensed, not wanting that. He didn’t know how to care or love. No one had ever taught him. She couldn’t. He’d fail and would hurt her. “I’ll see you tonight.”
She nodded slowly, as though coming out of a trance. “I’ll be here as soon as I’m off work. I’ll get the stuff cooked for your crowd. And don’t worry, I’ll wear something appropriate.”
Travis should have answered. He dropped his bat and stretched out on his belly instead. Proving their conversation was over. Nothing personal would start between them.
Jill gave the lone customer his change, waved him on his way then turned back to Mercy. “You need to give them time.”
Mercy folded her arms on the store’s front counter and rested her forehead on them. “I only have two months. I’ve been there less than a day and already Dutch doesn’t know how to act. He’s friendly one minute, distant the next. Travis totally hates me.”
“That’s not true. You startled him. He was half asleep.”
Bull. He’d been so fully awake, his cock had jutted away from his body, ready to poke the first thing it came into contact with. As long as it wasn’t her. He’d turned away as though she didn’t exist. God, how that had hurt. She hadn’t planned to attack him. Well, not until he made the first move.
He’d been so close to that, his expression intent and impassioned, then bam, nothing. “What do you wanna bet he was dreaming of another woman when I woke him?”
“Couldn’t say. But look at the bright side. You’ve already seen Travis nude. You lucky dog.”
Mercy sighed at how freaking beautiful he was. His hairy calves and thighs powerfully built, his shaft a gift from heaven. Long and meaty, the root nestled in his thick pubic hair, prominent veins snaking up the shaft, the crown a luscious mouthful. His balls pendulous.
The thought of suckling them made her moan.
“It’s not as bad as you think,” Jill said, misunderstanding. “I saw how they looked at you yesterday.”
Mercy lifted her head. “How?”
Jill smiled wistfully. “Like they wanted to devour you. Especially Dutch. He was more obvious, but Travis wasn’t immune. You just have to give them time.”
“Like how long? I’ve already told them sex made the world go ’round. That I was in this for fun.”
“You actually told them you wanted to sleep with–”
“No. When Travis lectured me about dressing appropriately so the bikers wouldn’t attack–like that’s gonna happen–I asked if it was all right if I jumped them. One thing led to another and I told him and Dutch that I was all for having a good time. No commitments.”
“Wow. What did they say?”
“Not what I’d hoped for.”
“Oh hey, sweetie. You don’t want to settle for nothing except sex. You deserve more than that.”
Of course she did. But if bed play was the sum total of what Travis and Dutch could give her, Mercy was going to grab it, and them, with both hands. Life didn’t always give a person what she wanted. She’d have to be happy for the little she could get.
By ten p.m. Smooth Rider was alive, heavy metal pumping from its sound system, bikers hugging the bar or slouched at the tables. Some gambled at cards and the pool game going on. A few danced with their ladies. Most laughed, having a great time.
Finishing a sip of his beer, Dutch placed his bottle next to Travis’s on the bar’s back counter. Mercy was across the smoky room, smiling at a man with a long gray beard and a huge gut. The old turd had to be seventy, at least, yet he was still riding the road and trying to make it with the babes.
Mercy waited as he ate the cupcake she’d offered. A mini version of what she usually made, calling it an inducement. No kidding. In the three weeks she’d been here, she’d made her stuff the most popular thing on the menu, initially charging a buck–and–a–half for each of the regular–sized treats. Travis had changed that the first night, upping it to two–fifty, refusing to take a cut.
None of the patrons had complained about the price hike or her being here. They fucking loved her. Several of the regulars shouted ’Hey!’ as she passed. Others blew her a kiss. Her cheeks colored in embarrassment or arousal. Dutch figured the latter. Despite the stuffy heat, her nipples were rock hard.
True to her word, she kept dressing appropriately…for this place…in addition to making up her face and curling her hair. Tonight, her jeans were snug, her green tee cut low to show off her rack. Sparkles decorated the neckline, sending a rainbow of color to the gentle swell of her breasts and fabulous cleavage.
She stopped at the bar, her pad filled with orders for her cupcakes. Before she could speak to him and Travis, a biker close to her age shouted across the room. “Hey, Mercy, bring me one of them molten chocolate things.”
“You got it,” she called back.
He grinned, revealing perfect teeth. His thick blond hair and deep tan gave him the look of a surfer. His body resembled one. Broad shoulders. Narrow hips. His rigid rod straining to get past his fly and into her. “Hey,” he hollered again, “you doing anything later?”
“She’s busy,” Dutch shouted.
“Very,” Travis added.
Mercy’s mouth closed around whatever she’d intended to say. Her chest and forehead got as pink as her cheeks. Head tilted to one side, she regarded them. “You guys doing okay?”
Hell no. Dutch wanted those damn cupcakes for himself, along with so much more. He was fucking tired of being a good boy, and all because of the crap Travis has spewed. “Yeah,” he lied.
Travis nodded slowly, his full attention on her. At some point last week, he’d given up trying to hide what he really wanted.
It had nothing to do with being a saint.
About time.
The moment Mercy ducked into the kitchen, Dutch leaned toward Travis and whispered, “I’m going to have some fun tonight. How about you?”
Travis brought his beer to his lips and took a long swallow. Lowering the bottle, he said, “Only if she understands the rules.”
“She’s already told us she does. The first damn day she was here. So are you in or out?”
“Just watch me.”
By closing time, Travis was ready to jump out of his skin. He stopped in the kitchen’s doorway. Trays were stacked to the right. Pots to the left. Sensing him, Mercy turned, her face rosy and moist from the heat.
He wanted to devour her. Joining her at the sink, Travis turned off the water.
Her eyebrows lifted.
“Leave it,” he said, his order softer than a sigh.
She studied him for a long moment. “You’re sure?”
Nope. But he couldn’t wait any longer. “Yeah.” He went to the kitchen’s entrance and shut off the lights.
Mercy moved through the darkness, stopping when she reached him. Travis didn’t budge. There was just enough room for her to pass.
She seemed uncertain whether to do so or lean into him. With his pulse hammering, Travis let her make the decision. At last, she turned to the side, edging past, her nipples brushing his arm, her thighs grazing his.
He breathed in her fragrance and warmth, wanting to take her here, bent over the counter, stripped of her jeans and panties, mounting her until tomorrow, but he let her escape. For now.
As he followed her out of the saloon, she kept glancing over her shoulder at him.
Outside, Dutch waited, a paper bag in his hand.
Mercy noticed it but didn’t ask about the contents. “Hey,” she murmured.
“Yeah–hey.”
Dutch sounded as if he hadn’t spoken for months. Travis’s throat was as tight.
What they were about to do was nuts, he knew, but couldn’t help himself. None of the bastards at the saloon had forever on their minds. They’d enjoy Mercy as quickly as they did her cupcakes, then move on to the next woman.
He and Dutch were saving her from that. They’d show her the good time she’d claimed to want. They might even remain friends afterwards.
Content with that fantasy, Travis drank her in. Wisps of hair curled at her temples. There was a smear of chocolate on her jaw, begging him to lick it off. Her freckles needed a kiss.
He edged closer. Mercy’s expression grew fuzzy, the wonder Travis feared and loved evident in her eyes. Unable to resist, he smiled.
Dutch shifted his weight and cleared his throat.
Mercy blinked and gave him her attention, as though she didn’t want him to feel neglected.
He grinned.
She looked at them both and hushed, “Night.”
“We’ll walk you to your cabin,” Travis said.
Dutch nodded.
Surprise and curiosity sparked in her gaze.
With Mercy between him and Dutch, Travis headed for her place. A short distance that seemed to take days. The world kept spinning. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this lightheaded. Certainly not when he’d left finance, giving up a six–figure job with million–dollar bonuses because he’d pleased his corporate clients while they screwed their employees.
No, he’d never felt exactly this way before. It was scary, yet exhilarating. Like being truly alive for the first time.
At the bottom of her steps, he stopped and wound his arm around Mercy’s neck, easing her into him. Her eyes went wide, shimmering in the gauzy light. The same as the glittery stuff on her tee. Cupping her breast, he thumbed her nipple.
She parted her lips on a pleasured sigh.
It was the only invitation Travis needed. He brushed his mouth over hers then slipped his tongue inside and held back a horny groan. She tasted sweet from her cupcakes and a flavor that belonged to her. Clean. Healthy. Gently, he stroked then fondled her breast.
Mercy sagged into him. Her hands roamed his back, seemingly uncertain where to stop. At length she clutched his ass and pulled him into her, nipples poking his chest, mound pressed to his erection.
Travis grunted his thanks.
They turned in a slow circle, the noises they made crude and beautiful, eager and content. She was fire in his arms, wanting this. Needing him.
For sex, Travis reminded himself. They were young, normal in their needs. No reason to deny themselves.
At last he pulled free, ending the kiss, desperate for a full breath.
Mercy gulped the cool night air then looked at Dutch.
He settled her in his arms with an ease that said she’d always belonged there and slanted his mouth over hers. She wreathed her arms around his neck and ground her hips into his. With his hand planted on her butt, he pushed her even closer.
Travis leaned against the stair’s railing. Endless stars dotted the sooty sky, the moon’s hazy rays a cascade of silver pouring down on them. Appropriately romantic. However, tonight wasn’t about love or commitment, was it? Something inside Travis twisted, breaking the mood. It occurred to him that he should stop this here. A kiss was enough. Too much. They shouldn’t move forward.
Mercy moaned. The same sound she’d made when he’d been kissing her, but different. Her reaction then meant for no one except him.
Because he was special to her.
That, alone, should have made Travis run.
His legs wouldn’t work, refusing to take him from her. He waited until she and Dutch finished kissing, then wound his arm around Mercy’s waist and walked her up the steps.
Moisture glistened on her lips. Even in the gloom, her cheeks seemed redder than usual from his and Dutch’s stubble, her lips slightly puffy from too much use.
They hadn’t even started.
She whispered, “You guys are coming in, right?”
Travis turned the knob and flicked on the lights. Mercy backed into the small space. The moment Dutch was inside, Travis closed the door behind the three of them.
Leaning against it, he said, “Here are the new ground rules.”
Mercy’s pulse thumped. They were going to screw her blind. Finally. What had changed? What had Travis and Dutch planned?
“While you’re here,” Travis said, “you can’t date the patrons. It’s not allowed.”
“That’s right,” Dutch said.
Mercy wasn’t following. “What patrons?”
“That blond guy,” Dutch said first.
She thought back, then finally remembered him. Wow. He’d really gotten to them. Pleasantly surprised, Mercy got bold. “Why?”
Travis grew more intent, seemingly jealous. “You won’t be available to anyone except us.” He gestured to himself and Dutch. “For whatever we want.”
Her thoughts raced.
“But only if you want it too,” he added, then waited for her response.
Mercy nodded.
“You want this,” he asked pointedly.
“Yes,” she breathed. “I want it all.”
Both men smiled. Travis held out his hand. Dutch handed him the paper bag then closed the curtains over her windows. Finished with that, he locked her front door.
She swallowed at the deadbolt’s metal thunk.
Travis pulled a box of Trojan Magnums from the bag, putting them on the table. The black container stated there were twelve of those extra–large suckers inside.
God, god, god.
Travis pulled off his tee, dropping it on the floor. Dutch’s followed. Mercy’s legs felt spongy, unable to support her weight.
Travis removed his boots and socks next. His feet were wonderfully large with long toes. She imagined licking the tips, then sucking them into her mouth.
Dutch set his boots and socks to the side. His feet were as nice.
Travis caught her attention again. He pushed his jeans and stretchy boxers down. Dutch did the same with his. In seconds, they were both nude, erect, facing her. Travis dark and dangerous. Dutch all golden skin and light brown hair, the tangle of it on his groin thick and curly.
Mercy shivered.
“You want it all,” Travis said, moving toward her. Dutch followed.
God, they were big. She tilted her face to theirs. “Uh–huh.”
“No expectations,” Travis said. “Just fun.”
It was more than Mercy had really hoped for. If she were foolish enough to deny her needs and demand a future they couldn’t give, she’d never be within their arms. “I understand, and I agree. No dating the customers. I’m here for you guys.”
Dutch grinned. So did Travis.
“Unless I meet someone,” Mercy added, before she knew she would.
Both men sobered and exchanged a glance.
“The same goes for you two,” she said quickly. “If Ms. Right walks into the saloon tomorrow, go for it. This is only about fun.”
That didn’t seem to cheer them up.
Travis’s eyebrows drew together. “Are you always this bad?”
What was he talking about? “Hey, I’m agreeing with you.”
Brought to His Knees-Tough Guys Laid Low By Love Page 87