by Sabrina York
Owen wasted no time with her skirt. He pushed it up, exposing her thigh, then the curve of her buttock in her skimpy thong. Still kissing her shoulder, he cupped one lobe of her bottom in his entire hand and squeezed hard, making her moan. The sound was a gift to Marcus from his lover, and the younger man seemed to draw it into himself, increasing the authority of his kiss.
Katie had never felt so manipulated, and yet at the same time so powerful. Energy flowed into her through Marcus’s mouth, and Owen’s exploring hand, making her blood sing and her sex flutter and ache to be filled. To be touched… Whatever… Unable to control herself, she wriggled on the couch, trying to assuage her gathering arousal.
“Yes,” hissed Marcus vaguely, allowing her freedom of her mouth for a moment, before plunging in again. This time, he gripped her neck only with one hand, and the other, he let slide down to her breast, where he plucked her nipple between finger and thumb, rolling it firmly through the cotton of her bodice.
Beside herself, Katie moaned again, moving restlessly. As if the touch to her breast had activated her somehow, she raised her hands, tugging at the straps of her dress, pulling them down over her shoulders to bare herself. Working together, knowing what to do by instinct, Marcus helped her, reaching around the back to unzip her. Between them, they stripped the cotton frock to her waist without ever once breaking the kiss.
He was still kissing her, still devouring her with tongue and lips, when Owen suddenly abandoned her bottom, and reached up to unsnap her light strapless bra, whip it off, then fling it away.
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Make Me Surrender
Tina Donahue
Text Copyright © Tina Donahue 2014
All Rights Reserved
Discover more titles by Tina Donahue
at www.tinadonahue.com
Dedication
For Allie for being such a great friend. And to strong men who know how to be tender.
She has a proposition…to win their attention, passion, hearts.
For over a year, Mercy’s had her eye on Travis and Dutch, two of the hottest guys on the Oregon coast. Dark and dangerously virile, Travis owns a saloon that caters to bikers. Dutch looks like one, right down to his impressive tats, and operates a motorcycle repair shop on the premises.
When a position opens in the saloon’s kitchen, Mercy sees a way to be near these sinfully sexy men, wanting the job and lodging, her cabin snuggled between theirs.
Travis isn’t so sure about having Mercy nearby. She’s deliciously curvy, but too nice. He’s into temporary fun. To Dutch, forever is a dirty word.
Imagine their surprise when sweet little Mercy encourages wild nights of carnal pleasure with a dash of bondage and spanking…followed by friendship and tenderness.
Before she’s through, these tough guys won’t know what hit them.
Chapter One
The door to Fast Fill swung open. In strode two of the hottest guys on the Oregon coast. Travis Conroy and Dutch Sinclair.
Waves of warmth rolled through Mercy Robinson, the heat unsettling, bringing a shock of desire that made her pussy ache with need. Oh god, they were something. Both of them in their early thirties, tall, easily six-three, their cheeks bristly from several days’ growth of beard.
Dutch’s was light brown, matching his hair, which he wore shaved close to his skull. A solidly built man, his snug navy tee and jeans hugged the hard slabs of muscle on his impressive frame. Golden, sun-kissed skin complemented his hazel eyes. He had the look of a biker about him. Tough and dangerous. The kind of guy who’d give a woman a wild ride no matter where he decided to take her.
In his bed, bath, pickup, or in a grassy field beneath the stars.
Mercy wilted against the convenience store’s front counter, needing it for support.
She inched her attention to Travis. Her legs went watery. A fallen angel couldn’t have competed with his sensual features, the stuff of female fantasies. Wavy black hair fell below his ears, with several strands dangling over his forehead, the ends close to his blue, lushly lashed eyes. Mercy tried to swallow but couldn’t. A bold tat, some kind of geometric design, peeked from beneath the sleeve of his black tee. The meaty equipment between his legs pressed against his fly.
Dutch’s bulge was equally pronounced.
Look away.
She couldn’t. Not even when a vehicle’s horn blared outside, its driver pissed at the other traffic roaring down the main road. In here, Girl on Fire pumped from the sound system. Those seductive strains heightened Mercy’s decadent thoughts.
She imagined moving away from the counter to greet them, debating which she should have first. Never an easy choice. She’d spent most of her evenings considering the matter. Choosing Travis this time, she pictured herself dropping to her knees and peeling off his jeans, unwrapping him like a longed-for Christmas gift. His thick, hard cock would spring out, an invitation for her to explore its beefy delights with her tongue.
She’d do better than that, and would slip him fully into her mouth until her nose pressed against the dark tangle of hair on his groin. Gawd. It’d be fragrant with his musk, the scent of a male in his prime. Rich. Powerful.
No different than Dutch. From behind, he’d ease her jeans and panties down, nestling his rigid shaft between her legs, rubbing the crown against her poor little clit. She’d whimper. He’d growl, then mount her in one unyielding thrust and drive as deep as a man could go. Taking what was his.
Mercy’s head swam. She locked her knees and gripped the counter to keep steady. Thankfully, they didn’t notice her reckless desire. They prowled the aisles for snacks before paying for the gas.
“Hey.” Jill, her coworker and BFF, leaned close. She whispered, “You okay?”
Not even close. Mercy was horny, lonely, and totally frustrated that Travis and Dutch never noticed her. For months they’d been coming to Fast Fill. The year before they’d breezed into town, taking over the old motel and its property on the coast road. The motel’s office was now Smooth Rider Saloon, a watering hole for bikers, which Travis ran. They’d converted the cabin closest to it into a motorcycle repair shop named Staying Power. Dutch did the repairs. Guys flocked to both spots for booze and a good time or necessary maintenance. Every woman within a fifty-mile radius felt Travis and Dutch’s raw male heat and behaved accordingly.
Rumor had it that the two of them had remodeled one of the other cabins to use for group sex with the ladies.
Mercy’s shoulders drooped. Not once had she received an invitation to those X-rated parties. With her, Dutch and Travis were always nice. Sweet, actually, which she really liked. Though not to the point where they behaved as though she was their younger sister. Hell, she was twenty-six and had fucking brutal needs the same as everyone else. Maybe more, given her lousy luck with drool-worthy guys.
Jill spoke even softer than before. “You don’t have to go through with this today. Wait till next week.”
“No. I’m doing it now.”
Mercy had made her decision last night and wasn’t about to back down. Already she’d waited too long for something to happen between her, Travis and Dutch, discussing it endlessly with Jill. While Jill had offered a world of suggestions, which usually centered on wearing lots of makeup, she had no idea how to make two hunks fall for Mercy. Always a realist, Mercy accepted that she wasn’t beautiful, just sorta pretty. She wasn’t built like a Barbie doll either. She actually had hips and thighs.
Not exactly the stuff of guys’ wet dreams.
If anything was going to come of her gnawing desire, Mercy knew she’d have to initiate it. Advice she’d gotten from her mom.
“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.
&nbs
p; 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-naturedly. “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 inter
rogation. “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.
