Page 11 of Almost Had You

He smirks. “That would mean more if it didn’t smell like tequila.”

“Touché.” I smile back. “You’re right about a couple things. I don’t want to lose my virginity drunk and I do want to remember it. You’re wrong about something, though. Losing it to you wouldn’t be a mistake. That’s what I want. Just maybe not while South of the Porder is the funniest joke I’ve ever heard.” I crack myself up, covering my mouth to stifle the laughter.

Mercer laughs but stops before I do. “If that’s the case then you should get dressed. The thoughts running through my mind aren’t very pure, ma’am. In fact, I’m not sure they’ve ever been more impure.”

I take another step toward him, letting my fingers finally touch the skin on his chest. I step back so I can watch them run over his hot, sweaty skin. Heat clings to him—everything wants to be on him right now. “Clover,” he rasps, eyes watching my hands move against his body, a methodical study laced with nefarious intent. “You’re not well versed on how things work behind closed doors, I realize. But when the only thing standing between my dick and your body is a pair of jeans and a scrap of lace, touching me like that makes things a bit more challenging. How about we both get some clothes on?”

Ignoring his pleas, I watch my hands glide over firm muscle. “Question,” I say.

“Can my virginity leave this room intact by morning if you stay with me tonight?”

He pulls away from me, “Woah, woah, woah.”

“I’m not a horse,” I say, teasing, biting my bottom lip waiting for his reply.

He fists his hands by his sides. “On a normal day, when I’m not strung out from being away from home for six months, probably, but tonight? When I’m realizing I might be in over my head with you, I’m not so sure.” Mercer shakes his head twice, slowly.

“You call the shots,” I say. “Tell me to stop. We can take breaks. Even sleep if you want to. I don’t want this to end. I want you to stay with me. I’ve never been able to reach out and take what I want before. Not without balancing what it would cost.”

“Don’t forget the most important part there, killer. You want to wake up a virgin. Woah,” he says once again, dragging both hands through his hair. He glances up at the ceiling and looks like he’s praying, lips opening and closing. After several seconds of him muttering things I can’t understand, he says, “Fine. You have to listen to me though. What have you done with men? I need you to be honest.” He runs a hand down his face. “Have mercy, I’ve never sobered up so quickly in my entire life.”

“And I’ve never been this drunk in my entire life.”

“Another point in the ‘I should leave this room right now’ column. You aren’t helping your case, here.” He slings his hands on his hips. I back onto the bed and kick back the musty comforter. “Answer my question, Clover. What experience do you have?”

“What’s it matter?” I pat the bed next to me.

“It matters to me.” Mercer stalks to the end of the bed and watches me, blue eyes blazing into my own. “Tell me.”

“You’re killing the mood.”

“Good. I think that would be best anyway.”

“Kissing. Fondling. I’ve let a few guys get to third base, but I have zero experience on how to do anything to a man. Properly anyway.” I laugh. “There isn’t much proper about doing things to a man, is there?”

He tosses his arms out to the sides. “Hilarious, Clover. If you can’t talk about it without laughing, how improper are the actual acts going to feel? What does get to third base mean to you? I want to make sure you aren’t using an antiquated system.” He presses his lips together and adds, “You’re not doing anything to me tonight,” he deadpans. “I’m not doing anything to you either. At least not until you’re sober.” I fold my arms across my chest. Bentley must have come back into the cabin because the song switches and the stereo volume increases.

“That doesn’t sound like any kind of fun,” I say.

“Trust me, I feel the same way. Let’s make out,” Mercer says, licking his lips. “My pants stay on and in a perfect world so would your shirt, but your body is,” he says, clearing his throat, “pardon me for saying, is so fucking beautiful that covering it up would be a crime. I’ll deal with what it’s doing to me. Don’t worry.”

Yes. Yes. Yes. This feels so right. Nothing has ever felt this natural. Why is it happening now? “What’s my body doing to you?”

He crawls toward me and when his hands are on each side of my head, he says, “You’ll be able to feel that soon enough.” His lips pull into a delicious side smirk.

He lays down on his side and pulls me to face him. Mercer cradles my head and brings his lips against mine. They move with mine for several seconds. He pulls away too soon. “I forgot to breathe,” he says, inhaling noisily, and chuckling. Butterflies flap in my stomach and my head swims.

My skin feels electric where it touches his. “I took your breath away, huh?” I slide closer to him, pressing my breasts firmly against his chest and rubbing my skin on his. Mercer’s hand slides down to my neck, then to my collar bone, and down my arm and rests on my hip. Mercer’s fingers glide over the side of my panties. I kiss his mouth again. It’s still wet from our last kiss. He tastes like tequila and everything forbidden. A combination that is toxic—to not only my body, but to the very core of my being. He groans as he clutches my panties in a tight fist.

Against my mouth, he says, “I want to take more than your breath away. I’d start with these.” He grasps the lace so tight, they cut into my skin. He groans again and deepens the kiss, his tongue possessing my mouth. My stomach spins and I forget my own name. Wetness floods my panties and I lose my breath. It all happens at once. I’ve kissed men before, but this feels different. I don’t want it to end, and I’m not worried about what it will cost in the morning. I’ve underestimated what it feels like to take what I want and accept what is freely given.

“Maybe you should do just that then,” I say, laying my hand on top of his, the one clutching my panties.

Mercer rolls on top of me, placing his hips between mine. “Maybe I should.” His neck works as he swallows. I feel him hard, through his jeans. Mercer leans down and kisses my chest, just once. I feel it all over my body.He takes one of my nipples in his mouth and it feels like it’s connected to my core. I clench tightly. Then again Mercer moves over to the other nipple.

“You should,” I moan out, wrapping my legs around his waist. “You really should.”

He drags his tongue along my neck, up to my ear. “What would everyone say?”

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