Free Have Mercy by Caitlyn Willows Page A

Ike to issue his challenge, Eddie had the microphone in his hand.
    "If you thought that was off-key, wait until you hear this. I guarantee I'd win any worst singer contest." He snapped his finger at the DJ, and the music started--Shania Twain's "Man! I Feel Like A Woman!" Any ill will Eddie's previous comment had created dissipated in the explosion of laughter that followed.
    "Now that's painful." Mercedes Suazo's voice sank into Ike's veins like warm honey.
    Goose bumps rained over his neck and trickled down his body when her breath touched his ear. He'd just been fantasizing about having her spread naked before him, and here she was. It was all Ike could do to not grab her and hoist her over his lap. He swore the look in her eyes begged him to do just that.
    The Hispanic goddess slipped into the seat Eddie had vacated. The heat from her body radiated to him, scoring a path straight to the hard-on that raged every time he was near her, saw her, or thought about her. And he thought about her a lot.
    She was the fantasy he beat off to in the shower--her bare ass over his lap red from spanking, her standing over his bound body whip in hand. He couldn't count the number of times he'd come thinking of her. Staring at her now, at her big brown eyes, those full lips that begged to be kissed, that silky fall of dark brown hair...
    He needed to come now. His cock throbbed for freedom. This was pain--this unrelenting ache of wanting her.
    Using the edge of the tablecloth as cover, Ike readjusted his erection, fighting the urge to stroke it. Better yet...grab her hand and have her stroke it. He'd love to straddle her torso, grab her head, and watch her luscious lips slide over his dick. She'd carve half moons into his ass with those long, ruby red nails of hers, forcing him in place for her pleasure...and his.
    The image lanced another flame through his groin, like a tiny whiplash around his balls. He could almost feel those nails raking his sac, clawing at his back while he fucked her tight, wet pussy. A woman like Mercedes would give as good as she got. He could easily see her taking control, shoving him to his back, and riding him until he was dehydrated and begging for more. No part of him would be off-limits. No act forbidden. Oh, the things they could do to each other.
    "Are you enjoying yourself?" Ike cursed himself for asking the too-safe question when he wanted to say, "Come here and let me fuck you." He wanted to haul her close and smother her lips with one kiss after another, to drag her out onto that minuscule dance floor and grind his pelvis into hers.
    "As office parties go..." She shrugged.
    Ike's gaze tracked the thin spaghetti strap as it slipped down her smooth, light brown shoulder. Her skin was perfect--a tone blessed by genetics that no tanning booth or airbrushing could ever reproduce. The envy of sun worshippers worldwide. He'd bet it tasted as good as it looked. He caught himself licking his lips as she eased the strap back into place in seemingly slow motion.
    She did that on purpose. The thought lit another fuse deep in his gut.
    Mercedes leaned closer, giving him a great view of her cleavage. He itched to scoop her breasts out, to pinch her nipples until she was writhing and moaning beneath him.
    "Honestly, I'm bored out of my mind." She traced a long nail over his arm, slowly zigzagging it up and down.
    Ike could feel her nail through the stifling suit jacket. Funny, women could wear next to nothing, but men were stuck with suits and ties.
    "If this hadn't been more or less required attendance, I might not have come," she said, continuing that lazy dance over his arm.
    Ike's eyes glazed over. His cock was already dripping at the hope she'd do the same down there.
    "And...um...what would you have been doing if you weren't here?" The words sounded muffled against the lust roaring in his ears. He hoped she wouldn't reply that she'd be celebrating Valentine's Day with her boyfriend. But if that were the case, why