by Sylvie Kaye
"Seems out of character for a man like that to buy flowers.” Cindy sipped her wine before choking out, “His name is Sinner?"
Mercy smacked her friend on the back. “I'm surrounded by sin it seems. Sinner and Sin-dy."
After another cough, Cindy squeaked, “You can't lay that on me. Jay thought I was named after Cinderella."
"That might explain why Prince Charming didn't take you home. You should've worn your glass slippers instead of the floral wedgies.” She looked down at Cindy's feet. “Honestly, I don't know how you can walk in those things."
Cindy wriggled her bare toes as best she could in the six-inch high, platform-soled shoes. “More than likely it had something to do with my coworker, ravishing Rita, also known as the corporate slut. Whatever she whispered in his ear turned his head. And his body followed.” She downed the last swallow of wine left in her glass and slid the short-stemmed goblet to the edge of the bar for Lenny to refill when he finished flirting with a redhead who looked more likely to tip over from the weight of her breast implants than any other kind of tip. “So where did your date from Hell go?” Cindy turned to Mercy again.
"We were getting it on,” Mercy explained, lowering her voice, “on a park bench and—"
"In plain sight?” Cindy gasped, her eyes widening. “Do you think that's wise?"
"We were nearly in the dark. There was a streetlight, but it and most of the people were on the other side of the bend in the river.” She licked her suddenly parched lips as she briefly recalled the rock hardness of Sinner's lap and her rocking ride. “The fantasy of public sex must've really kicked things up a notch for me. I was so close to coming."
With a sigh, she closed her eyes, wishing the sumptuous feeling back. But it failed to materialize. She flicked her eyes open to stare into Cindy's round, brown ones. “I could feel an orgasm stirring when he up and left."
"Mid-coitus?” Shock tinged Cindy's voice.
"More like coitus interruptus."
"In the middle of a compromising position.” Cindy's forehead puckered like corrugated paper. “What kind of man does such a thing?"
"Obviously a cowboy.” Mercy shrugged.
"Coming from Pennsylvania, we don't know much about cowboys.” Cindy's head bobbled like the Lord of the Ring Frodo decorating the toilet tank in her apartment.
"Maybe when you're in Texas longer, you'll find out more about the men,” Mercy rationalized. “In the meantime, there's always Lenny."
They both stared down the length of the bar, studying the handsome, eye candy. Tight jeans. Tight buns.
"Lenny's probably heard it all,” Cindy said. “Everybody blabs to their bartender."
"Soon as he's done hitting on the redhead, let's ask him."
Eventually, Lenny pried himself away from the redhead's cleavage. Behind a dashing smile, he hid any exasperation he might've harbored over having to return to drink-making.
"Lenny, this is Mercy. Parker's niece.” Cindy did the introductions.
Lenny's smile widened at the mention of his boss.
"Nice to meet you, Lenny. Give us something strong enough to put an awful evening out of our minds."
"For how long?"
"Forever."
"Didn't score, huh?” Lenny said, nailing their problem on his first try. He winked knowingly. “I've got just the thing.” Turning toward the gleaming bottles of colored liquors, he grabbed a few and began mixing like a scientist about to create a cure for the ailments of womankind.
And maybe he was.
When Lenny returned, he held out two frosty glasses of red-and-yellow alcohol like coveted trophies. “I put it on the boss's tab."
Cindy took hers and sipped. “Let's toast my transfer to Texas and the bathroom industry that got me here.” She held up her glass. “To the Mesopotamia."
"I take it that's the pink-and-gold marbleized whirlpool-for-two in your condo."
"What a design coup that was.” The light in Cindy's eyes flickered then went out. “I didn't realize how bland my life was until now. That product development was the most excitement I've had all year, and I haven't tried out the jets in the tub solo, let alone with anyone."
"Maybe Jay has a kink or two he needs Jacuzzied,” Mercy suggested. “He looked pretty uptight."
Cindy frowned.
Mercy picked up her glass. “To Mister Clean and Mister Down-and-Dirty, who both ran off too soon.” She swallowed a mouthful, shivering as the sweet and sour tastes assaulted her at the same time. Then she turned to the bartender. “Now, Lenny, what can you tell us about cowboys?"
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Chapter Five
The next night, as soon as Spence stepped his booted foot inside the noisy, smoky Starry Night Club, there she was.
Though he wasn't eager to see Mercy after the fiasco on the park bench, his dick was. The muscle leaped to attention, eager to take up where they'd left off before he had blown his chance at Parker, catching only the red glow of the man's taillights.
Faced with the prospect of peeling off a dry rubber while explaining to Mercy what was none of her business, he'd decided to call it a night and take his sore cock home. Vaselineing it up, he'd spent the night grieving for the moist slit between the creamy thighs of the soft-eyed beauty when he should've been focusing on finding Parker.
He sucked in a determined breath, but even in the dim lighting, Mercy was hard to miss perched on the barstool. Her luminous blonde hair and ruby red dress drew him to her like a beacon. Her mouth was slashed in red to match her slip of a dress, and the sight hit him low in the gut like a sucker punch.
What in the hell was she doing here?
He rifled his fingers through his hair. He'd never laid eyes on her tight little body before last night, and now what, she'd become a regular?
She was a sad reminder of last night's bad endings. He'd sent her flowers by way of the vendor to apologize for his shortcomings. But nothing could make up for allowing Parker to get away. He had no choice but to ignore her and concentrate solely on watching for the prick.
He sauntered over to his strategic spot on the balcony where he could watch everyone's comings and goings. For an hour or so he succeeded in keeping his eyes away from hers. Her blue ones. He hated that he remembered the color. It made her seem special, and he needed her to be nothing more than a dry hump, ugly as that was.
But her presence in the room haunted him. He swore he could feel her breathe. Hot and heavy. Her lungs expanding, and with each movement, her luscious breasts swelling. Her sensitive nipples willing and stiff, waiting for his touch to make her ache and whimper for him.
He sucked in the warm, dank night air drifting up from the river below. Across the way a couple strolled hand-in-hand, carefree. Something he hadn't felt in too long to remember. Something he craved to feel again.
"After,” he swore under his breath. After he cleared his name and put Mark to rest. Once he was sure there was no risk of danger to anyone close to him, he'd seek out a woman like Mercy and let himself feel again.
Her laughter intruded on his thoughts, the sound throaty and sultry. Even with a dance floor of bodies muffling the distance between them, her voice got to him, coaxing him to approach her, touch her silky skin, make her moan. Every second he spent trying not to watch her, he became even more aware of her presence.
He dared a glance her way. Hell, even her shadow on the wall next to the bar where she sat with her willowy long legs crossed was sexy and tempting.
He looked away, searched for a reason for his inexplicable attraction to her. It wasn't like him to obsess over a woman. Not even his steady girlfriend, who'd walked out on him during the trial.
Parker. Stalking the slimy bastard was boring business, and Mercy was just too damn pretty and tasty to overlook. She was ignoring him tonight, and the more she did the worse he felt about not making it right between them.
She had to be aware of him over here in the shadows where he lurked, noticing her every move.<
br />
And when had that happened? Damn, but she had a way of making him forget his intentions. Forget about Parker and redeeming himself for full chunks of time.
He crossed his arms, steeled himself against her, refusing to give in to his baser needs.
After several hours, he gave in. If they were both going to spend their evenings in the same place, no matter how smoky or dusky, it was going to be damn hard to pretend she didn't exist. And if not her, then her loud-laughing friend with the whacky shoes and hair.
During the band's rousing drum solo, he figured he'd garble his way through a half-ass explanation for accidentally letting her pretty butt taste the stony walkway. Once he got that off his mind, he was sure he'd be able to concentrate his undivided attention on Parker, where it belonged.
He elbowed his way through a few office types to get next to her at the two-deep bar. When he leaned in, she smelled sweet like flowers and musky like sex all at the same time, and he almost forgot he'd come over to brush her off.
"Hey,” he grunted more than said.
"Don't come near me.” She gave him a sideways glance, her heart-stopping blue eyes turning cool while her pert nose turned up.
The red dress looked so soft against her tits he had to brace his hands on the mahogany bar to stop from reaching over and finding out. He knew how silky the body underneath was and that had him panting like a thirsty barnyard dog. “Did you like the flowers?"
Her spine stiffened, which thrust her breasts out and made for a brain-splattering distraction. He watched her chest rise and swell as she huffed, “Thanks, I figured them for a sympathy wreath."
So much for saying it with flowers. Giving his excuse a more sincere shot this time, he said, “I'd like to apologize for what happened last night."
"I'd like if you ate dirt.” She smiled with her moist pink lips.
"Babe,” he said, “I can explain.” But he knew damn well he couldn't. He couldn't pull the innocent bystander into a possible street fight regardless of how badly his body craved hers. And he sure as hell couldn't spell any of it out for her.
"Don't make me call the bouncer.” She turned her head, tossing her blonde curls enticingly across his nose. His fingers twitched, wanting to grab the herbal-sweetened strands in a bunch, hold her captive, and kiss her until she said all the words he wanted to hear.
Instead, he had no choice but to walk away.
As he made his way onto the open balcony, he tried to drum up some anger at her, but she had every right to be pissed.
He moved back into the shadows. Hardened his heart. He didn't need any woman. Not right now. Not until he forced Parker into confessing his perjury and cleansed himself of the taint of jail and manslaughter.
* * * *
"It was above and beyond the call of duty for Bob to not only give us a ride home last night but to take the afternoon off and show me Sea World. We did everything from high-speed rides to a slow walk through the manicured gardens.” Mercy rested her elbows on the bar and tried to look enthused.
"I gather he didn't make your hormones sing?” Cindy raised her eyebrows.
"No. Only Sinner's managed to do that."
"It's just as well. Bob's one of Ravishing Rita's groupies. He's never offered more than a hello before he saw us with that office slut.” Cindy waggled her blue-striped, wedge-soled foot.
"I detect resentment, Cindy, and I don't think it's because of Rita and Bob.” Mercy eyed her friend. “Has she been hitting on Jay again?"
"Yes, but unsuccessfully this time.” Cindy grinned and swiveled around on her barstool. When she came full-circle, she leaned in and whispered, “Don't look, but the sinner is watching you."
"All night I've sensed his eyes on me."
"Lenny can have him bounced if he's weirding you out."
"It's not like that. I don't feel stalked. I feel kind of watched over. It's hard to explain.” Mercy certainly didn't suffer any attention deficit when Sinner was around. He made her feel desirable for merely inhabiting the same building as he did, and that was a difficult sensation to deny herself.
Against her better judgment, she gave in to the compelling pull of his blatant male sexuality and sneaked a peek. Immediately, his disarming, dark eyes locked with hers. On contact, a flutter of lust stirred low in her belly, hungry and devouring. Somehow, his sinful, confident stare assured her that he was the only one capable of satisfying her.
She touched her hand to her stomach to still the smoldering desire sending signals to her brain. Erotic, visual ones of his hard, hot body shadowing over hers, bringing her to climax.
He tipped his head questioningly, and she knew she should turn away before she gave in to the carnal sensations flooding through her.
Her pulse pounded in wild beats as she unhooked her high heels from the rung of the stool. Her feet sought the floor and a path over to the man whose eyes promised sex with a satisfying ending this time.
Suddenly, Cindy blocked her view. “Any plans for tonight that I should know about?"
"No.” Mercy sighed, wishing Sinner had been more cooperative the other evening. He could've ended her orgasmic quest and made her vacation a gratifying, memorable one.
"I hate to leave you stranded if I get lucky with Jay.” Cindy checked her wristwatch. It was time for her coworkers to show up.
"Not to worry,” Mercy said. “I can always ogle Sinner and dream about would-have-beens."
"Don't get all moony-eyed and think about forgiving him. Remember how he treated you."
"That won't work, Cindy. His treatment was pretty darn arousing, up until the last moment."
"Then concentrate on the last second and the gritty landing."
Ignoring her friend's tendency to over dramatize, she said, “I can't help but wonder why he ran off? Do you think it's me and not the men I've dated?"
"No, I remember the men back in Lily Pond.” Cindy leaned closer. “Maybe Sinner has erectile dysfunction and can't maintain his, a..."
"Hard-on.” Mercy nodded.
"Don't give up on all men, just Sinner. There are plenty of nice men like Jay."
Mercy quirked her nose.
"Okay, so Jay's slow with the moves, but at least he doesn't look as if he has a pact with the devil. Stay indignant, stay determined, and stay away from Sinner.” Cindy sighed. “Or else I won't be able to enjoy myself for worrying."
Mercy stuck her chin out, her resolve strong. No sense in ruining both their evenings. “I won't give up or give in."
* * * *
Minutes before two a.m., while the bartenders hustled last call for drinks, Spence slouched against the wall. It looked as if neither Parker nor Google were showing up tonight.
Feeling low, he looked for Mercy. He thought about asking her to dance in the hopes of indulging in the soothing suppleness of her enticing body.
She stood talking to her friend, whose boyfriend had apparently run out on her, and another woman, a looker with a corporate air about her. He strolled over, but didn't speak. Instead, he tapped Mercy on her bare shoulder just for the enjoyment of touching her skin. When she faced him, he let his hand linger on her warm, fragrant flesh.
"Want to dance?"
"I don't like this song,” she said, her delicate chin stiff with resolve.
"You pick the music then.” He met her eyes, holding them with his.
Sexual currents crackled. Static, hot and electric. The moment stretched. The music played on.
She had to know asking her to choose was a concession for a man who claimed to dance to his own tune.
"This is the last song,” she said at last.
"Come on, Mercy, throw a little my way."
His hand coaxed her naked shoulder. If it wasn't so damn near to closing, he'd have more time to work at breaking down her barriers.
"No, thanks.” Her words sounded softer.
He nodded. “Tomorrow night then."
Before she could refuse, he strode away into the misty night.
&nbs
p; [Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Six
Mercy and Cindy sipped sparkling water at the bar the following night while Cindy waited for Jay.
"Don't feel as if you and your coworkers have to come here on my account.” Mercy stabbed at her ice chips, feeling down since her mother's phone call, which had focused on her long-term future over her immediate one. Why couldn't Uncle Parker be at the club instead of Sinner?
Cindy shook her head of short hair. “Jay likes it here."
With a quick nod, she griped to her friend, “My first week in Texas is half over and I haven't laid eyes on my mother's favorite brother. She's going to be disappointed if I don't get to see him."
"Before you frown...” Cindy poked her in the ribs. “Make sure there are absolutely no smiles available."
"Sounds like the world according to Sister Doria,” Mercy chided.
"You don't get to be a hundred without knowing what words to live by.” Cindy crossed herself apparently in memory of the dear, departed nun. “So, why don't you give it a try?"
Mercy gritted a smile and indulged her friend. “I was waiting until after I spoke with my uncle, but I'm retooling and relocating. I've decided to go back to school and move away from Lily Pond."
"It's about time.” Cindy crinkled her forehead. “But what does your uncle have to do with it?"
"My credit's kaput. I foolishly invested my savings along with money I borrowed on my credit card in a deal that went bust."
"Oh, no.” Cindy gasped and then went speechless, which only proved how terrible Mercy's situation was.
"The investment broker I was dating guaranteed me huge profits. Turns out his advice was as lousy as he was in bed. I had to move back in with Mom so I could keep up the payments on the VW, which I need to get to work."
"Wow, you said you'd had a financial setback, but I didn't know it was so drastic. Maybe I can cosign a loan—"
"No,” Mercy said. “I didn't mean for it to sound as if I was hitting you up. Thanks for the offer, but I couldn't repay you for a long while. According to Mom, Uncle Parker can well afford to lend me the money long term and interest free."
