"I noticed you also haven't danced." She rested her chin on her palm, big brown eyes studying his mouth. Her lips were parted, as if begging for his tongue to slip inside.
Hard to dance with a raging hard-on in one's pants.
"No partner." He dropped his hand to her elbow and curled his fingers around it.
"I'll be your partner. Do you like it fast...or slow?"
Ike laughed. "I should've seen that coming."
Her eyes lit up. "Oh? You like to watch?"
She was killing him, in more ways than one. Laughing, Ike cupped her arms and pulled her to her feet as the DJ finally cut off the karaoke and turned the music on. "You are a naughty one."
"Takes one to know one." She laced her fingers through his. "I definitely need to be taken in hand. Dance with me?"
"Our pleasure." He hoped she got his meaning. When her gaze dropped to his crotch and she smiled, Ike knew she'd realized he was referring to himself and the "friend" in his pants. He loved a woman who "got it," and this one not only understood his dry humor, she played back.
The light dimmed for a slow song, and in the shadow, he saw a hint of a dimple in her cheek. Her short dress skimmed over her full curves, loving her figure the way Ike longed to do. The material sparkled like fireworks in colors of red, gold, blue, and green that shimmered with every move she made.
Mercedes pulled him into the center of the crowd now packing the small dance floor and turned into his arms. He wrapped around her, pulling her as close as the law allowed...and then some. He wedged his thigh between hers. She settled onto it with another knee-buckling sigh and glided slowly back-and-forth with him.
Her heat poured onto him. Ike swore he felt her dampness seep through his pant leg. She ground her hip against his erection. Torn between stopping her and urging her to continue, he tightened his fingers around her waist.
Fingers clutched his biceps. She kept pressing her lips together, licking them. Each hard breath pushed her breasts into his chest, and Ike thought he'd go crazy if he couldn't feel her nipples burrowed against his flesh soon. Her thighs clenched his. He pushed between them and saw her eyes close a second before she nestled her head on the pillow of his chest.
Reaching down, he cupped her sweet ass and hauled her higher. She tensed. An orgasmic shudder rippled through her, then she relaxed once more. Moisture soaked his pant leg. The dark material should help camouflage it. If not, Ike didn't give a damn. He was with the hot woman of his dreams.
A woman's squeal yanked their heads up, but they didn't pull apart. Ike never wanted to let her go. He kept her close as she found her footing.
"Hurry, hurry." Dottie wobbled through the crowd with a tray of plastic champagne flutes overflowing with golden bubbly. "It's almost time. It's almost time."
Ike glanced at his watch--nine. They'd all toast the merger and then the party would start to break up.
The sooner, the better.
Reluctantly, he accepted two glasses from Dottie and handed one to Mercedes.
"Mercedes."
"Thank you." Her fingers wrapped around his before she eased the glass away. "My friends call me Mercy," she said with a smile.
"I'd like to be your friend." He kept one arm locked around her waist, her body tight and hot against his pulsing erection.
She ran her fingers between the buttons on his white Oxford shirt. "I'd like for you to be more than a friend."
So would he. "Does that mean I still get to come to your house for a sleepover and a playdate?"
She rubbed against him. "You can come wherever you wish, but are you man enough? I play hard."
Damn, how lucky could a man get?
"The harder, the better as far as I'm concerned." He pushed back.
"My feeling exactly."
"Do you prefer to give or to receive?"
She stretched on tiptoes until her mouth was a whisper's breadth from his. "Either...both."
Damn lucky.
"Ten...nine...eight..."
Ike shut out the shouts and covered her lips in a mind-numbing, body-tingling kiss that branded his soul for life.
Have mercy.
That was exactly what he planned to do.
Bells and whistles went off in Mercy's mind as Ike's tongue slipped through her parted lips. Her mind shut down with her moan. Hooking her hands over his shoulders, she hoisted herself higher, wanting to wrap her legs around his waist and feel his cock plunge deep into her sopping pussy.
Her crotch still pulsed from the sinfully delicious orgasm she'd just had. Her labia were engorged with blood, waiting for more, more, more. She couldn't believe she'd done it--humped his thigh in public until she came. She couldn't believe she'd actually fired up the courage to approach him. Shocking what one butterscotch martini could do for one's bravado. She couldn't believe he kissed like a dream and made the world sing around her.
Ike slowly peeled his mouth from hers. Mercy's cheeks heated when she realized it wasn't the kiss that had created the cacophony, but party whistles and the obligatory "For He's A Jolly Good Fellow" being sung at the top of everyone's lungs. She was really far gone for this guy, if she hadn't realized that already.
One big hand cupped her ass, anchoring her to him and that hot erection. His other hand raked up her neck, deep into her hair, cradling her head while he kissed her again.
She clung to him like mistletoe to a tree. Man alive was he yummy. She wanted to eat him up and down and all around. All he had to do was snap his fingers, and she'd fall to her knees, whip out that cock, and suck it until his balls caved in. Then she'd spread herself on the nearest table and order his face in her pussy.
Her breath caught with the image. She looped one leg around his. Another slow tune started. Lights dimmed. The crowd on the floor thickened, pressing them into each other. All the rules she'd set for herself sifted into nothing. Mercy wanted him here, now, and damn the consequences to her heart.
Ike Campbell had captured her attention from the day he'd walked through the doors at Sullivan Advertising, one of the largest and best ad agencies in the Los Angeles area. With the nationwide merger, Mercy had lost count of how many employees they had, much less how many new ones were hired or transferred in from New York. That she had seen Ike at all had been a quirk of fate. He worked contracts. She worked graphic design. But from that first glimpse, she'd made sure they crossed paths often.
Past relationships had made her more than hesitant to date. Okay, they'd made her damn scared to try again. Yet Ike was too tempting to resist. She wanted him bad, but past disasters also made her realize it had to be on her terms. She was playing for keeps, not to be humiliated and have her heart broken again. Her terms. Her rules. Her butterscotch martini had given her the courage to finally go after him. But now?
The crush around them, coupled with the dim lighting, hid the slow crawl of her dress up her body. His hot hand spanned her near naked butt. Why, oh why had she worn pantyhose? She could have tolerated the agony of bare feet in heels, could have bought thigh-high hose for the pleasure of having those long fingers--or, better yet, his cock--thrusting beyond the crotch of her panties.
He swooped lower, working down her butt crack. She could unzip him just enough to pull his erection free and tuck it between her legs. She lifted her leg higher, ready to do exactly that, then forced it back down. They would lose their jobs if they weren't careful. There had to be a bathroom or deserted storage closet somewhere. If she didn't get him fucking her soon, Mercy would go insane.
She jerked her lips free with a gasp, ready to suggest they take this elsewhere and fast. Those blue eyes stopped the words before they could escape. He truly did take her breath away. She'd memorized every strand of his dark blond hair, every movement he made, his smile, his laugh, his voice. All went to bed with her at night, a fantasy partner in any and all sexual activity, whether alone or with her occasional fuck buddies, Trent and Robert.
Now, molded to his statue-perfect body, she had a choice to make--stick with her plan or take what she could get now and let the chips fall where they may later. Chips falling had gotten her nowhere in the past.
No more subterfuge. No more pretending. He was going to know upfront exactly what she wanted and needed from a relationship from day one. If he couldn't deal with that...
Please
, her body pleaded.
Just one hard fuck.
Her heart and mind took over.
Mercy offered him her best come-fuck-me smile and glided her hands down his chest, straight to that hot cock. It throbbed in her hand. To leave him this way was a little cruel. She couldn't help that. It wasn't as if she'd intended to come on his thigh. It'd just happened.
"Ready to call it a night?" he asked. Tension tightened his jaw despite the smile he gave. The poor guy was close to exploding.
"Sure you want to play? Final warning...I play hard."
"It's not my first time to the rodeo. I have a safe word, as I'm sure you do."
That had her smiling. He was no novice. Score one for her team.
"So..." He let the word hang for a second or two. "What's yours?"
Smirking, she cupped his erection, then gave it a stroke. "My name. When I need mercy--"
"You cry, 'Mercy.' Inventive. Mine's not nearly as clever... Zymurgy."
Mercy laughed. "Now that one would definitely catch someone's attention and take you right out of the moment." Which was the intention of a safe word.
This was promising. He definitely deserved a little treat before the big game.
"I think that drink I had earlier may have stayed in my head longer than I anticipated." She pressed her nipples into his chest, smiling when his breath hitched on another long stroke. "I could use a ride home. I can get my car tomorrow...or the next day." Mercy let the last words fall softly as she flicked her tongue over the point of his chin.
"I'm not sure I can walk without limping," he muttered.
"Even if I promise a cure once we get to your car?"
Mercy felt a flash of heat burst from his cock and race over his body. It wrapped around her like an entity all its own, a psychic embrace. Indecision played across his face--he was probably weighing the excitement of public sex against being discovered, fired, and possibly arrested for lewd and lascivious conduct. When placed in that context, Mercy wasn't so sure herself. She did know she wouldn't find the answer in a second butterscotch martini.
"I'm not known for my
discretion
when I come," he finally said.
The declaration wriggled through her. More juices pooled in her crotch.
"Although the temptation to fuck you right here on the dance floor is more than I can bear." He tightened his hold on her ass and ground his pelvis against her stomach. "Tell me what you have in mind for our drive to your place. A hard fuck in the backseat? Your lips around my cock as I speed down the highway? Or a hand job that will have me shooting cum so far and wide, I'll still be finding it years from now when I'm detailing the interior?"
Mercy's knees buckled. She would have crumpled to the floor if he hadn't had her locked against him.
"Or maybe I'll have you peel those cumbersome pantyhose off," he continued. "Then I'll sink my fingers into that hot, tight, wet pussy while you drive us. Or have you put the seat down, and you lie facedown while I warm that bottom with a spanking. All the way to your house."
He punctuated the sentence with a hard squeeze to her ass. Mercy tried to straddle his thigh once more. He added a pinch to her butt cheek that ordered her to remain still. She wanted that. All of that. But...
She swallowed past a throat gone dry. "You can dish it out, but can you take it as well?"
"I can." The erection pulsing between them felt even harder. "For the moment, I know I won't have any control. A kiss of leather or wood to my ass could have me coming a second later. Do you have anything to help keep me
contained?
"
I do. I do.
"As a matter of fact, I do. I also have methods and tools guaranteed to regenerate those who feel they've already finished the race." She managed to slip her hand between his thighs and cupped his sac. His clothing prevented her from getting the good feel she wanted, but it would do. Judging from his tightened jaw and glazed eyes, her touch had the desired effect. "So I guess the balls are in your court." She licked his Adam's apple. "Relief now and later, or just later."
"There's only so much temptation a man can resist."
One hand swooped up to caress the side of her breast. Mercy's lips froze at the sweet sensation it gave.
"Since your methods
are
guaranteed."
"Oh, they are." She uttered the words against his lips, then slid her tongue between.
He sucked in a deep breath through his nose, devastating her once more with the twirl of his tongue with hers, the way his lips kneaded hers into submission. The end of whatever song that had been playing peeled them apart. Simultaneously, they laced fingers and walked off the dance floor toward her table. They barely paused. Mercy merely snagged her purse and jacket from the back of her chair and gave her coworkers at the table a goodbye nod. Knowing smiles replied. God only knew what they'd say if they knew what she did behind closed doors.
Mercy hugged Ike's arm between her breasts, their hands still interlocked as they made their way to the exit. Cool night air slithered up her short dress the second they stepped outside. Their breath fogged before them. Mercy was certain if she looked down, she'd find steam pouring from her pussy. Her nipples stabbed holes into her bra, making her crave the warmth of Ike's mouth around them. Want swelled her clit. Each step toward the heavily lighted parking lot rubbed it against the crotch of her pantyhose.
The jingle of keys pulled her attention away from herself. At the remote's chirp, taillights flashed on a light colored four-door sedan. She couldn't tell the make and model and really couldn't care less. All cars looked essentially the same to her. The sooner she got inside this one, the happier she'd be. In fact, if hers had been closer, instead of ten slots down, Mercy would have dragged him inside it.