Bared to You, Page 27

  I leaned forward. “What’s it say?”

  “Confucius say,” Gideon ad-libbed, “man with hand in pocket feel cocky all day.”

  Cary threw half his cookie at Gideon, who caught it deftly and grinned.

  “Give me that.” I snatched the fortune out from between Cary’s fingers and read it. Then laughed.

  “Fuck you, Eva.”

  “Well?” Gideon prodded.

  “Pick another cookie.”

  Gideon smiled. “Pwned by a fortune.”

  Cary threw the other half of his cookie.

  I was reminded of similar evenings spent with Cary when I was attending SDSU, which made me try and picture what Gideon had been like in college. From the articles I’d read, I knew he’d attended Columbia for his undergraduate studies, then left to focus on his expanding business interests.

  Had he associated with the other students? Did he go to frat parties, screw around and/or drink too much? He was such a controlled man, I had a hard time picturing him that carefree, and yet here he was being exactly that with me and Cary.

  He glanced at me then, still smiling, and my heart turned over in my chest. He looked his age for once, young and seriously fine and so very normal. At that moment, we were just a twenty-something couple relaxing at home with a roommate and a remote control. He was just my boyfriend, hanging out. It was all so sweet and uncomplicated, and I found the illusion a poignant one.

  The intercom buzzed and Cary leaped to his feet to answer it. He glanced at me with a smile. “Maybe it’s Trey.”

  I held up a hand with my fingers crossed.

  But when Cary answered the door a few minutes later, it was the leggy blonde from the other night who came in.

  “Hey,” she said, taking in the remnants of dinner on the table. She eyed Gideon appraisingly as he politely unfolded and stood in that powerfully graceful way of his. She shot me a smirk; then unleashed a dazzling supermodel smile on Gideon and held out her hand. “Tatiana Cherlin.”

  He shook her hand. “Eva’s boyfriend.”

  My brows lifted at his introduction. Was he protecting his identity? Or his personal space? Either way, I liked his response.

  Cary came back into the room with a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Come on,” he said, gestured down the hallway to his bedroom.

  Tatiana gave a little wave and preceded Cary out. I mouthed behind her back to Cary, What are you doing?

  He winked and whispered, “Picking another cookie.”

  Gideon and I called it a night shortly after and headed to my room. As we got ready for bed, I asked him something I’d wondered about earlier. “Did you have a fuck pad in college, too?”

  His T-shirt cleared his head. “Excuse me?”

  “You know, like the hotel room. You’re a randy guy. I just wondered if you’d had some kind of setup even then.”

  He was shaking his head as I ogled his divinely perfect torso and lean hips. “I’ve had as much sex since I met you as I’ve had in the last two years combined.”

  “No way.”

  “I work hard and I work out harder, both of which keep me pleasantly exhausted most of the time. Occasionally, I might’ve gotten an offer I didn’t refuse, but otherwise I could take or leave sex until I met you.”

  “Bullshit.” I found that impossible to believe.

  He shot me a look before he headed toward the bathroom with a black leather toiletry bag. “Keep doubting me, Eva. See what happens.”

  “What?” I followed him, enjoying the sight of his delectable ass. “You’re going to prove that you can take or leave sex by doing me again?”

  “It takes two.” He opened his bag and pulled out a new toothbrush that he extricated from its packaging and dropped into my toothbrush holder. “You’ve initiated sex between us as much as I have. You need the connection as much as I do.”

  “You’re right. It’s just…”

  “Just what?” He pulled open a drawer, frowned at finding it full, and moved on to pull open another.

  “Other sink,” I said, smiling at his presumption that he would get drawers at my place, too, and his scowl when he couldn’t find them. “They’re all yours.”

  Gideon moved over to the second sink and began unpacking his bag into the drawers. “Just what?” he repeated, taking shampoo and body wash over to my shower.

  Leaning my hip into the sink and crossing my arms, I watched him stake his claim all over my bathroom. There was no doubt that’s what he was doing, just as there was no doubt that anyone walking into the room would know right away there was a man in my life.

  It struck me then that I had a similar claim on his private space. His household staff had to know their boss was in a committed relationship now. The thought gave me a little thrill.

  “I was thinking about you in college earlier,” I went on, “when we were eating dinner, imagining what it would be like to see you around on campus. I would’ve been obsessed with you. I would have gone out of my way to see you around just to enjoy the view. I would’ve tried to get in the same classes as you, so I could daydream during lectures about getting into your pants.”

  “Sex maniac.” He kissed the tip of my nose as he passed me and went to brush his teeth. “We both know what would’ve happened once I saw you.”

  I brushed my hair and teeth; then washed my face. “So…did you have a sex pad for the rare occasions some lucky bitch got you in bed?”

  His gaze caught my soapy reflection in the mirror. “I’ve always used the hotel.”

  “That’s the only place you’ve had sex? Before me?”

  “The only place I’ve had consensual sex,” he said quietly, “before you.”

  “Oh.” My heart broke.

  I walked over to him, hugging him from behind. I rubbed my cheek against his back.

  We went to bed and wrapped ourselves around each other. I buried my face in his neck and breathed him in, snuggling. His body was hard, yet it was wonderfully comfortable against mine. He was so warm and strong, so powerfully male. I only had to think of him to want him.

  I slid my leg over his hips and rose above him, my hands splayed atop the ridges of his abdomen. It was dark, I couldn’t see him, but I didn’t need to. As much as I loved that face of his—the one he resented at times—it was the way he touched me and murmured to me that really got to me. As if there was no one else in the world for him, nothing he wanted more.

  “Gideon.” I didn’t need to say anything else.

  Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me deeply. Then he rolled me beneath him and made love to me with a tender possessiveness that rocked me to the soul.

  I woke with a jolt of surprise. A heavy weight crushed me and a harsh voice spit ugly, nasty words into my ear. Panic gripped me, cutting off my air.

  Not again. No…Please, no…

  My stepbrother’s hand covered my mouth and he yanked my legs apart. I felt the hard thing between his legs poking blindly, trying to push into my body. My scream was muffled by his palm smashed over my lips and I cringed away, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst. Nathan was so heavy. So heavy and strong. I couldn’t buck him off. I couldn’t shove him away.

  Stop it! Get off me. Don’t touch me. Oh, God…please don’t do that to me…not again…

  Where was Mama? Ma-ma!

  I screamed, but Nathan’s hand covered my mouth. It pressed down on me, squashing my head into the pillow. The more I fought, the more excited he became. Panting like a dog, he rammed against me over and over…trying to shove himself inside me…

  “You’re going to know what it feels like.”

  I froze. I knew that voice. I knew it wasn’t Nathan’s.

  Not a dream. Still a nightmare.

  God, no. Blinking madly in the darkness, I struggled to see. The blood was roaring through my ears. I couldn’t hear.

  But I knew the smell of his skin. Knew his touch, even when it was cruel. Knew the feel of his body on mine, even as it tried
to invade me.

  Gideon’s erection battered into the crease of my thigh. Panicked, I heaved upward with all my strength. His hand on my face dislodged.

  Sucking air into my lungs, I screamed.

  His chest heaved as he growled, “Not so neat and tidy when you’re the one getting fucked.”

  “Crossfire,” I gasped.

  A flash of light from the hallway blinded me, followed by the blessed removal of Gideon’s smothering weight. Rolling to my side, I sobbed, my eyes streaming tears that blurred my view of Cary shoving Gideon across the room and into the wall, denting the drywall.

  “Eva! Are you okay?” Cary turned on the bedside light, cursing when he saw me curled in a fetal position, rocking violently.

  When Gideon straightened, Cary rounded on him. “Move one fucking muscle before the cops get here and I’ll beat you to a bloody pulp!”

  Swallowing past my burning throat, I pushed up to a seated position. My gaze locked with Gideon’s and I watched the haze of sleep leave his eyes, replaced by a dawning horror.

  “Dream,” I choked out, catching Cary’s arm as he reached for the phone. “He’s d-dreaming.”

  Cary glanced at where Gideon crouched naked on the floor like a wild animal. Cary’s arm dropped back to his side. “Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “And I thought I was fucked up.”

  Sliding off the bed, I stood on shaky legs, sick with lingering fear. My knees gave out and Cary caught me, lowering to the floor with me and holding me as I cried.

  “I’m gonna crash on the couch.” Cary ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair and leaned into the hallway wall. The door to my bedroom was open behind me and Gideon was inside, looking pale and haunted. “I’ll set out some blankets and pillows for him, too. I don’t think he should go home alone. He’s shredded.”

  “Thanks, Cary.” The arms I had wrapped around my middle tightened. “Is Tatiana still here?”

  “Hell, no. It’s not like that. We just fuck.”

  “What about Trey?” I asked quietly, my mind already drifting back to Gideon.

  “I love Trey. I think he’s the best person I’ve ever met aside from you.” He bent forward and kissed my forehead. “And what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Stop worrying about me and take care of you.”

  I looked up at him, my eyes swimming in tears. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Cary sighed, his green eyes dark and serious. “I think you need to decide if you’re in over your head, baby girl. Some people can’t be fixed. Look at me. I’ve got a great guy and I’m giving it to a girl I can’t stand.”

  “Cary…” Reaching out, I touched his shoulder.

  He caught my hand and squeezed it. “I’m here if you need me.”

  Gideon was zipping up his duffel bag when I returned to my room. He looked at me and fear slithered in my gut. Not for me, but for him. I’d never seen anyone look so desolate, so utterly broken. The bleakness in his beautiful eyes frightened me. There was no life in him. He was gray as death with deep shadows in all the angles and planes of his breathtaking face.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered.

  He backed up, as if he wanted to be as far away from me as he could get. “I can’t stay.”

  It worried me that I felt a surge of relief at the thought of being alone. “We agreed—no running.”

  “That was before I attacked you!” he snapped, showing the first sign of spirit in over an hour.

  “You were unconscious.”

  “You’re not going to be a victim ever again, Eva. My God…what I almost did to you…” He turned his back to me, his shoulders hunched in a way that scared me as much as the attack had.

  “If you leave, we lose and our pasts win.” I saw my words hit him like a blow. Every light in my room was on, as if electricity alone could banish all the shadows on our souls. “If you give up now, I’m afraid it’ll be easier for you to stay away and for me to let you. We’ll be over, Gideon.”

  “How can I stay? Why would you want me to?” Turning around, he looked at me with such longing it brought fresh tears to my eyes. “I’d kill myself before I hurt you.”

  Which was one of my fears. I had a difficult time picturing the Gideon I knew—the dominant, willful force of nature—taking his own life, but the Gideon standing before me was an entirely different person. And he was the child of a suicidal parent.

  My fingers plucked at the hem of my T-shirt. “You’d never hurt me.”

  “You’re afraid of me,” he said hoarsely. “I can see it on your face. I’m afraid of me. Afraid of sleeping with you and doing something that will destroy us both.”

  He was right. I was afraid. Dread chilled my stomach.

  Now I knew the explosive violence in him. The festering fury. And we were so impassioned with each other. I’d slapped his face at the garden party, lashing out physically when I never did that.

  It was the nature of our relationship to be lusty and emotional, earthy and raw. The trust that held us together also opened us up to each other in ways that made us both vulnerable and dangerous. And it would get worse before it got better.

  He shoved a hand through his hair. “Eva, I—”

  “I love you, Gideon.”

  “God.” He looked at me with something that resembled disgust. Whether it was directed at me or himself, I didn’t know. “How can you say that?”

  “Because it’s the truth.”

  “You just see this”—he gestured at himself with a wave of his hand. “You’re not seeing the fucked-up, broken mess inside.”

  I inhaled sharply. “You can say that to me? When you know I’m fucked up and broken, too?”

  “Maybe you’re wired to go for someone who’s terrible for you,” he said bitterly.

  “Stop it. I know you’re hurting, but lashing out at me is only going to make you hurt worse.” I glanced at the clock and saw it was four in the morning. I walked toward him, needing to get past my fear of touching him and being touched by him.

  He held up a hand as if to hold me off. “I’m going home, Eva.”

  “Sleep on the couch here. Don’t fight me about this, Gideon. Please. I’ll worry myself sick if you go.”

  “You’ll be more worried if I stay.” He stared at me, looking lost and angry and filled with terrible yearning. His eyes pleaded with me for forgiveness, but he wouldn’t accept it when I tried to give it to him.

  I went to him and took his hand, fighting back the surge of apprehension that hit me when we touched. My nerves were still raw, my throat and mouth still sore, the memory of his attempts at penetration—so like Nathan’s—were still too fresh. “We’ll g-get through this,” I promised him, hating that my voice quavered. “You’ll talk to Dr. Petersen and we’ll go from there.”

  His hand lifted as if to touch my face. “If Cary hadn’t been here—”

  “He was, and I’ll be fine. I love you. We’ll get past this.” I walked into him, hugging him, pushing my hands beneath his shirt to touch his bare skin. “We’re not going to let the past get in the way of what we have.”

  I wasn’t sure which of us I was trying to convince.

  “Eva.” His returning hug squeezed all of the air out of me. “I’m sorry. It’s killing me. Please. Forgive me…I can’t lose you.”

  “You won’t.” My eyes closed, focusing on the feel of him. The smell of him. Remembering that I once feared nothing when I was with him.

  “I’m so sorry.” His shaking hands stroked the curve of my spine. “I’ll do anything…”

  “Shh. I love you. We’ll be okay.”

  Turning his head, he kissed me softly. “Forgive me, Eva. I need you. I’m afraid of what I’ll become if I lose you…”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” My skin tingled beneath the restless glide of his hands on my back. “I’m right here. No more running.”

  He paused, his breath gusting harshly against my lips. Then he tilted his head and sealed his mouth over mine. My body responded to the gentle c
oaxing of his kiss. I arched into him without volition, pulling him closer.

  He cupped my breasts in his hands, kneading them, circling the pads of his thumbs over my nipples until they peaked and ached. I moaned with a mixture of fear and hunger, and he quivered at the sound.

  “Eva…?”

  “I—I can’t.” The memory of how I’d woken up was too fresh in my mind. It hurt me to deny him, knowing he needed the same thing from me as I’d needed from him when I told him about Nathan—proof that the desire was still there, that as ugly as the scars of our pasts were, they didn’t affect what we were to each other now.

  But I couldn’t give him that. Not yet. I felt too raw and vulnerable. “Just hold me, Gideon. Please.”

  He nodded, wrapping his arms around me.

  I urged him to sink to the floor with me, hoping I could get him to fall asleep. I curled into his side, my leg thrown over his, my arm draped over his hard stomach. He squeezed me gently, pressing his lips to my forehead, whispering over and over again how sorry he was.

  “Don’t leave me,” I whispered. “Stay.”

  Gideon didn’t answer, didn’t make any promises, but he didn’t let me go either.

  I woke sometime later, hearing Gideon’s heart beating steadily beneath my ear. All the lights were still on, and the carpeted floor was hard and uncomfortable.

  Gideon lay on his back, his beautiful face youthful in sleep, his shirt lifted just enough to expose his navel and the ripped muscles of his abdomen.

  This was the man I loved. This was the man whose body gave me such pleasure, whose thoughtfulness moved me over and over again. He was still here. And from the frown that marred the space between his brows, he was still hurting.

  I slid my hand into his sweatpants. For the first time since we’d been together, he wasn’t hot steel in my palms, but he quickly swelled and thickened as I tentatively stroked him from root to tip. Fear lingered just beneath my arousal, but I was more afraid of losing him than of living with the demons inside him.

  He stirred, his arm tightening around my back. “Eva…?”

  This time I answered him the way I couldn’t before. “Let’s forget,” I breathed into his mouth. “Make us forget.”