Nicole Edwards - Perception

What he did have a problem with was finding the right woman. They all seemed to take a keen interest in his bank account long before they showed much interest in him on something more than a sexual level. That’s usually about the time he would part ways.

“Maybe you should surprise them,” Mercedes said, pulling him back to the conversation.

“You mean fly up there?”

“Sure, why not? I know you. You’re probably itching to go check on them.”

There was no doubt that Mercedes knew him better than most people. Ever since his mother had informed him that his father fell, he’d been anxious to find out for himself just how his father was doing. However, since it wasn’t something he intended to do tonight, he decided to change the subject.

Because he’d much rather talk about Mercedes, he said the first thing that came to his mind. “How’s your mother?”

Mercedes looked up at him, gracefully laying her fork on her plate then dabbing at her mouth with a linen napkin before reaching for her wine glass. He saw the moment she attempted to shut down, and he immediately regretted the question. But rather than backtrack, he simply waited for her to answer.

“She’s fine. Still in rehab.”

It was the fourth drug rehab her mother had been in during the last two years. The woman was strung out, and she didn’t have any problems reaching out to Mercedes when she’d blown her last dollar on drugs. Mercedes, being the soft hearted woman she was, usually assisted financially, but he and Shane had finally managed to convince her it was time to stop enabling her mother.

That hadn’t been a particularly exciting conversation, but they’d gotten through it after a heated screaming match. But, in the end, Mercedes had agreed with them and then somehow convinced her mother to go into rehab. Unfortunately, her mother was using Mercedes’s money to pay for it, but, as far as Xander was concerned, it was better than Priscilla blowing it on coke.

“Do you think this one is working?” he asked, encouraging her to open up a little more.

“About as good as the last one,” she answered sharply.

He had no doubt that Priscilla was only in rehab to ensure that Mercedes didn’t give up on her completely. He’d heard all the stories. She didn’t share with many people he knew, but she had opened up to him. And Shane.

Priscilla Bryant had had a hard life. Married to a son of a bitch, she had taken the coward’s way out, staying with him so she wouldn’t have to get a job to support herself or her daughter. That was about the only good thing Mercedes’s father had done for either of them, she’d told them.

For the last few years, Priscilla had jumped from job to job, mostly cleaning services that paid little more than minimum wage. But once she got tired of going to work, she just didn’t. And then she’d call Mercedes, ask for money, and Mercedes would grudgingly give it to her, knowing there was no way her mother would ever pay her back.

Xander knew Mercedes was not fond of talking about her family. If at all possible, she preferred not to talk about her mother. She absolutely hated to talk about her deadbeat father who’d disappeared from her life just a few months before Mercedes graduated from high school. According to her, she was happy he’d left. To hear Mercedes tell the story, the abusive bastard had stuck around long enough so that he wouldn’t have to pay child support to Mercedes’s mother and not a moment longer.

“How about we move on to a lighter subject?” Mercedes requested, picking up her knife and fork and pinning Xander with a look that told him she was not at all interested in the subject.

Fine. He knew when to back off, just like he knew when to push back. For now, he’d let her have her way.

Two hours later, Xander led Mercedes out of the restaurant and to the waiting limo. They’d taken their time through dinner, and once the conversation had detoured to business, it seemed as though Mercedes’s tension level had receded a few notches.

Holding her hand while she climbed inside, he glanced over at Carson. “We’re going to Devotion. No interruptions. And I don’t care how long it takes us to get there. If we arrive before I give you the go ahead, continue to drive until I tell you.”

“Yes, sir,” Carson responded, his face showing absolutely no emotion.

The man had worked as Xander’s personal driver for not quite eight years. He knew exactly what to expect. He was paid well for his discretion and had never once interfered or questioned Xander’s instruction. It was the main reason he was still on the payroll.

Xander climbed into the limo and allowed Carson to shut the door behind him. Reining himself in, Xander waited until the limo had approached highway speeds before he turned his full attention to Mercedes.

“Take off your shoes and come here.”

Mercedes glanced over at him, clearly startled by his request. To her credit, she didn’t question him, rather turned to face him slightly.

“On my lap,” he instructed when it was clear he hadn’t been detailed enough.

Mercedes’s perfectly groomed eyebrow cocked skeptically, but she didn’t argue. He watched as she slipped her shoes off, leaving them on the floor of the car before moving in front of him.

He glided his hands up the outside of her thighs, relishing the warmth of her bare skin as he slid his hands beneath the short, billowy skirt, pulling her toward him so that she could straddle his legs. She clearly understood what he wanted because she slowly eased atop him, her knees on each side of his thighs.

“Much better,” he told her, caressing her cheek as he just stared back at her. “I like you close.”

“I like being close,” she admitted, startling them both with her unguarded response.

He studied her momentarily, taking his time as he continued to caress her smooth cheek with one hand, while sliding his other hand higher and higher on her thigh, but never giving in to the temptation to take it further. Not just yet.

“You’re committed to this?” he asked finally, despite the fact that it wasn’t so much a question as it was an acknowledgement.

“I am,” she told him without reservation. “For tonight.”

“And what about tomorrow?” he questioned, not exactly thrilled with her response. They had five days, and he did not like the idea of her backing out after one night.

“Let’s take it one day at a time.”

“I’m not going to go easy on you because you’re threatening me,” he informed her. “In fact, you might find yourself punished.”

“It’s not a threat,” she assured him softly, her hand coming up to rest on his cheek, mirroring the way he was touching her.

God he loved her touch. Loved the feel of her delicate fingers on his skin. He wanted her to touch him. Everywhere.

Rather than force the issue, he let it drop.

“Do you have any idea how much I’ve wanted you? Or for how long I’ve wanted you?” he asked, not expecting a response.

“No,” she whispered, her head tilting slightly as she leaned her cheek into his palm. “Tell me.”

“How about I show you.”

Letting his finger slide down her cheek, he trailed his hands along each side of her neck, over her collarbone until he reached the swell of her breasts. The turquoise mini dress she wore was beautiful, he had to admit. It accentuated her curves, but more importantly, he loved that it was strapless. And short. Did he mention he liked that it was short because it showed off her magnificent legs?

The woman had killer legs.

If he’d had the chance to request her to wear something, it would’ve been exactly this.

Reaching around behind her, he deftly unhooked the tiny hook and lowered the thin zipper down her spine until the dress fell free to reveal her breasts.