She was in public, even if the audience could only see shadows through the opaque glass, but none of it mattered. As far as she was concerned, they were the only two people in the entire world.
What that said about her, she didn’t know, and she no longer cared.
“Fuck me harder,” she encouraged, gripping his shoulders as she stared down at him. The intensity in his gaze was her lifeline, and she clung to it.
Xander held her hips tightly, pulling her flush against him and then lifting her, his cock thrusting up into her from below until the friction all but consumed her, his cock nailing her G-spot with every deep stroke. Mercedes was suspended by a thread, hovering on the edge of an orgasm so explosive, she wasn’t sure she’d survive it.
With her eyes still locked with his, she ran her hands over the chiseled features of his ruggedly beautiful face, desperately holding on to that connection that she knew she would feel lost without.
No matter what she’d originally thought, her pleasure was owned by this one man. Her perception of what she had wanted was clearly skewed and without Xander she would’ve felt lost and helpless. But Xander eased her, gave her strength, made her feel. And nothing else mattered except him.
Her pleasure was in his hands, and she knew she could give herself up to him completely and never have to worry. He’d be there to catch her when she fell.
And she was falling. Desperately. And fast.
Sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, she gently nipped him, his cock pulsing deep inside of her as the pain registered.
“Are you ready to come for me?” This time he was the one to ask, but his words were a mere puff of air against her ear. He was allowing her to save face, even when no one else was in the room to know.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Then come for me, pet,” he encouraged. “Come on my cock. Let me feel you.”
“Oh, God.” That’s all she needed. His permission. Not the other way around. One more forceful thrust of his hips and she was flying into orbit, Xander’s hands gripping her ass, bracing her.
When she thought she could take no more, he surprised her when he pushed to his feet, the chair he had been sitting in falling over and crashing to the floor.
With her arms around his neck, he held her like she weighed nothing as he began pounding up into her while she worked her hips down onto him at the same time.
“God, I love your pussy,” he growled. “Come for me again, Mercedes. Come for me now.” Xander groaned, and the words sent her flying over the edge, oblivious to her own guttural cries as she came.
She was only aware of the pulse of Xander’s cock deep inside of her as he came, his body stone still as he held her until they were both sated completely.
For now, Mercedes was going to enjoy that euphoric feeling.
Later, much, much later, she was going to have to play out the scene in her head just to figure out where things went completely awry.
Chapter Thirty Six
T Minus Zero…
Tuesday
“Meet me for dinner?” Xander asked when Mercedes answered her cell phone the following afternoon.
“Where?” she asked as she clutched the phone in her hand. At the mere sound of his voice, her spirits lifted for the first time all day.
She’d spent way too many hours fretting over the fact that Xander had left her alone for most of the day. That and why he seemed to be putting distance between them.
She listened while he rumbled off the name of the most romantic, not to mention the most expensive restaurant in downtown Dallas. It wasn’t his favorite place, but he knew that she liked it.
“What time?”
“Seven thirty.”
Mercedes knew she probably paused a little too long because Xander followed up with, “Logan and Sam will be meeting us there as well.”
Ok, so clearly this wasn’t meant to be a romantic evening out. Not that she had expected it to be.
She’d only hoped.
“I’ll meet you there.”
“Oh, and Mercedes…”
Mercedes waited for Xander to finish, but he didn’t. Unable to bear the silence any longer, she asked, “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing at all. I just… I think we need to talk. See you at seven thirty.”
With that, the call disconnected, and Mercedes fumbled her phone. They needed to talk?
Shit. Shit. Shit.
That couldn’t be good.
Was he still pissed at her for disappearing before he got out of bed that morning? He’d certainly appeared angry when he showed up at her door partially dressed, but she thought he was fine when he left a short while later.
In her defense, their five days were up as of that morning. She probably could’ve argued that point last night and spent the entire night alone in her own bed. But she’d chickened out, wanting – no, needing – one last night with him.