Xander exhaled sharply, but he didn’t look away, the smooth skin on his freshly shaven jaw taut, that telltale vein at his temple giving away his true frustration. “It was more than that and you fucking know it.”
“I don’t know anything of the sort,” she lied.
Yes, Mercedes could classify what happened between them as un-fucking-believable. But it was a fluke. A stroke of luck. Inconvenient timing. Strange alignment of the planets. Call it what you will.
She knew it had never happened to her before, but what Xander didn’t seem to understand was that it would never happen again.
Nev. Er. A. Gain.
“You’re lying,” Xander said, his eyes locked on her. “You know how I know? Because you can’t look me in the eye when you say it, Mercedes.”
Keeping her eyes locked with his, just to prove him wrong, Mercedes argued, “I think you forgot one little detail about last night. It was your idea. You’re the one who needed my help on a demonstration. A demonstration, Xander. Nothing more.”
Xander didn’t say a word in response, so Mercedes continued. “Oh, and get this,” she added sarcastically, recalling the email she’d received just a short while ago. The one that had made her damn near choke on her tongue. “Logan McCoy emailed me a few minutes ago. He wanted to let me know that Sam definitely has an interest in D/s lifestyles.” Mercedes frowned. “Thanks to you and your brilliant plan, he thinks I’ll be a good person for her to chat with. The man thinks I’m a submissive.”
Despite her outrage, Xander’s expression didn’t change. He just stared down at her, his hands in his pockets, looking as relaxed and comfortable as always, even though the tightening of the muscle in his jaw gave him away entirely. She had to admit, he wasn’t usually so easy to read.
“And that’s a bad thing how?”
Mercedes fought the irritation that was eating away at her. “You know good and damn well that I’m not a submissive,” she bit out. “But after your little scene last night, they seem to think I am.”
“Fine. Do you want me to set them straight? I’ll do that. That doesn’t mean you can’t give her information on the subject.”
Mercedes didn’t respond as she continued to glare at him.
Even though they hadn’t talked in depth about what had happened, Mercedes knew there was no way Xander would believe she’d willingly go from being a Domme to his submissive just because he gave her an orgasm.
Hell, it didn’t work that way. She didn’t want to be a sub. Not his or anyone else’s. There might’ve been a time in her life when being passive seemed natural to her. Too bad life had changed her, and she’d soon learned that taking the reins and being in control was the easiest way to get to the top. She’d made it her mission and somewhere along the way she’d built a reputation as an extremely successful entrepreneur, not to mention, as one of the most formidable Mistresses in her circle of friends.
She wasn’t looking for a personality overhaul, thank you very much.
Throughout their friendship, she had reminded Xander that she was the dominating half of her relationships, and she had no interest in switching sides. Not for anyone.
Especially not for him.
Nothing had changed.
She was suddenly compelled to move away from him and to change the subject. Without haste, she went back behind her desk and as gracefully as she could manage slid down into her chair, keeping her eyes on him. She waited for him to sit, which surprisingly he did.
“I need to know what your initial bid for the Milton building is going to be so I can get a contract drawn up,” she told him, morphing into her role as his real estate agent.
Business was probably the only safe subject they could discuss at the moment.
“Get me comps and some information on the company selling and I’ll let you know.”
“I’ll get right on that.” Grabbing her pencil and a notepad, she focused on the task at hand.
Mercedes jotted down the notes, taking more time than necessary, hoping he’d get the hint and head out the same way Shane had.
When she looked back up, she found Xander staring at her, his expression unreadable. “What?” Mercedes asked, her voice soft but insistent. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“No reason,” he grumbled, pushing to his feet.
Mercedes continued to watch him, holding her breath as she waited to see if he’d say something more or just leave her be.
When he turned, making his way toward the door, she couldn’t decide whether she was grateful or disappointed that he’d opted to go.