After a one night stand with Hunter Greene, Mercy Martin wants more. She fantasizes about being taken. Not once, not twice, but over and over again.
When Hunter comes to the Martin family house for dinner, Mercy's determined to confront him about his future plans.
How long is he going to be in town?
More importantly, when this sexy dominant sits down at the table will she be an appetizer?
Or, is he saving the best for desert?
Sprawled on the same twin bed she’d had since childhood, Mercy considered the possibility that she’d died and gone to hell. It was hot enough. She stared up at the fan that was turning slowly on the ceiling, going around and around. It didn’t make the air move, nothing short of a miracle could do that, but the old metal blades with the fancy designs cut into them sure were pretty to look at.
Mercy forced herself into a sitting position. From the window of the attic bedroom she’d commandeered on her tenth birthday, she could see all the way across the sleepy little town that she called home. She could even see the little white bungalow at the base of the hill where her brother's best friend lived. Hunter Green.
The man she'd been in love with since before she could remember.
The man who'd fucked her roughly the afternoon before. Taking her in ways she'd never quite imagined. Her sex life had always been vanilla--occasionally French vanilla--and Hunter was double fudge dark chocolate.
She licked her lips, hungry for another taste.
“Mercy Martin,” The phone she was holding in one hand jumped with the force of her best friend’s voice. “Have you listened to a single thing I’ve said?”
“Not really.”
Delilah let out an exasperated sigh. “I've got a date tomorrow night. His screen profile is fantastic."
“His screen profile?" Mercy was suddenly paying a whole lot more attention. “Why the hell are you dating online?”
“Every time I go out with a guy he spends the entire night looking at my boobs. I figure, with online dating I can get to know the guy before we actually meet."
“My brother tried online dating. He quit after the trial membership ran out.”
A short laugh. “Can’t the terminally sexy find their own dates?”
“Max isn’t that good looking. He's not Hunter--" A flash of red flickered in the breeze. The silk scarf Hunter had used to tie her to his kitchen table. It had been tied to the railing of his porch. Just high enough to catch her attention. Like a flag.
Like a challenge.
Heat flooded her belly. Her hand skimmed her full breasts--tweaking a nipple under her snug cotton t-shirt--before moving lower to move against her silk panties. Her wet silk panties.
She needed to feel something. Him. Only, Hunter wasn't there. He'd kissed her sweetly the previous afternoon when he'd released her out into the sunlight. He hadn't called since. It had been more than twenty four hours. She hadn't heard a word. There'd been no phone call, no discreet message passed on through her brother--Hunter's best friend--and now this.
"I--" her voice caught in her throat. "I've got to go."
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