by Sylvia Day
I was so hurt by Gideon it was hard to breathe and I was so confused by his mood swings. Why had he touched my face like that? Why had he gotten mad when I didn’t stay by his side? And why the hell had he threatened Cary? Gideon gave new meaning to the old adage about “running hot and cold.”
Closing my eyes, I shored up my composure. Jesus. I didn’t need this.
I’d bared my emotions in the limo and I still felt horribly vulnerable—a state I’d spent countless therapy hours learning to avoid. I wanted nothing more than to be home and hidden, freed from the pressure of acting like I was completely pulled together when I was anything but.
You set yourself up for this, I reminded myself. Suck it up.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped out and was resigned to finding Magdalene leaning against the vanity with her arms crossed. She was clearly there for me, lying in wait at a time when my defenses were already weak. My step faltered; then I recovered and made my way to the sink to wash my hands.
She turned to face the mirror, studying my reflection. I studied her, too. She was even more gorgeous in person than she’d been in her photos. Tall and slender, with big dark eyes and a cascade of straight brown hair. Her lips were lush and red, her cheekbones high and sculpted. Her dress was modestly sexy, a flowing sheath of creamy satin that contrasted beautifully with her olive skin. She looked like a fucking supermodel and exuded an exotic sex appeal.
I accepted the hand towel the bathroom attendant handed me, and Magdalene spoke to the woman in Spanish, asking her to give us some privacy. I capped the request with, “Por favor, gracias.” That earned me an arched brow from Magdalene and a closer examination, which I returned with equal coolness.
“Oh, dear,” she murmured, the moment the attendant stepped out of earshot. She made a tsking noise that scraped over my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “You’ve fucked him already.”
“And you haven’t.”
That seemed to surprise her. “You’re right, I haven’t. You know why?”
I pulled a five-spot out of my clutch and dropped it in the silver tip tray. “Because he doesn’t want to.”
“And I don’t want to either, because he can’t commit. He’s young, gorgeous, rich, and he’s enjoying it.”
“Yes.” I nodded. “He certainly did.”
Her gaze narrowed, her pleasant expression slipping slightly. “He doesn’t respect the women he fucks. The minute he shoved his dick in you, you were done. Just like all the others. But I’m still here, because I’m the one he wants to keep around for the long haul.”
I maintained my cool even though the blow had been a perfect hit right where the most damage could be done. “That’s pathetic.”
I walked out and didn’t stop until I reached Stanton’s limousine. Squeezing Cary’s hand as I got in, I managed to wait until the car pulled away from the curb to start crying.
“Hey, baby girl,” Cary called out when I shuffled into the living room the next morning. Dressed in nothing but a loose pair of old sweats, he was stretched out on the couch with his feet crossed and propped on the coffee table. He looked beautifully disheveled and comfortable in his own skin. “How’d you sleep?”
I gave him the thumbs-up and headed into the kitchen for coffee. I paused by the breakfast bar, my brows lifting at the massive arrangement of red roses on the counter. The fragrance was divine and I inhaled it with a deep breath. “What’s this?”
“They came for you about an hour ago. A Sunday delivery. Pretty and super pricey.”
I plucked the card off the clear plastic stake and opened it.
I’m still thinking about you.
Gideon
“From Cross?” Cary asked.
“Yes.” My thumb brushed over what I assumed was his handwriting. It was bold and masculine and sexy. A romantic gesture for a guy who didn’t have romance in his repertoire. I dropped the card on the counter as if it’d burned me and fetched a mug of coffee, praying caffeine would give me strength and restore my common sense.
“You don’t seem impressed.” He lowered the volume on the football game he was watching.
“He’s bad news for me. He’s like one giant trigger. I just need to stay away from him.” Cary had been through therapy with me and he knew the drill. He didn’t look at me funny when I broke things down into therapeutic jargon, and he didn’t have any trouble shooting it back to me the same way.
“The phone’s been ringing all morning, too. I didn’t want it to disturb you, so I shut the volume off.”
Aware of the lingering ache between my legs, I curled up on the couch and fought the compulsion to listen to our voice mail to see if Gideon had called. I wanted to hear his voice, and an explanation that would make sense of what happened last night. “Sounds good to me. Let’s leave it off all day.”
“What happened?”
I blew steam off the top of my mug and took a tentative sip. “I fucked his brains out in his limo and he turned arctic afterward.”
Cary watched me with those worldly emerald eyes, eyes that had seen more than anyone should be subjected to. “Rocked his world, did you?”
“Yeah, I did.” And I got riled up just thinking about it. We’d connected. I knew it. I’d wanted him more than anything last night, and today I wanted nothing to do with him ever again. “It was intense. The best sexual experience of my life, and he was right there with me. I know he was. First time he’d ever made it in a car, and he was kind of resistant at first, but then I got him so hot for it he couldn’t say no.”
“Really? Never?” He ran a hand over his morning stubble. “Most guys scratch car banging off their fuck list in high school. In fact, I can’t think of anyone who didn’t, except for the nerds and fuglies, and he’s neither.”
I shrugged. “I guess car banging makes me a slut.”
Cary grew very still. “Is that what he said?”
“No. He didn’t say shit. I got that from his ‘friend,’ Magdalene. You know that chick in most of the photos you printed off the Internet? She decided to sharpen her claws with a little catty girl chat in the bathroom.”
“The bitch is jealous.”
“Sexual frustration. She can’t fuck him, because apparently girls who fuck him go into the discard pile.”
“Did he say that?” Again, fury laced his quiet question.
“Not in so many words. He said he doesn’t sleep with his female friends. He’s got issues with women wanting more than a good time in the sack, so he keeps the women he bangs and the women he hangs out with in two separate camps.” I took another sip of my coffee. “I warned him that sort of setup wasn’t going to work for me and he said he’d make some adjustments, but I guess he’s one of those guys who’ll say whatever’s necessary to get what he wants.”
“Or else you have him running scared.”
I glared. “Don’t make excuses for him. Whose side are you on, anyway?”
“Yours, baby girl.” He reached out and patted my knee. “Always yours.”
I wrapped my hand around his muscular forearm and stroked my fingers gently along the underside in silent gratitude. I couldn’t feel the multitude of fine white scars from cutting that marred his skin, but I never forgot they were there. I was thankful every day that he was alive, healthy, and a vital part of my life. “How’d your night go?”
“I can’t complain.” His eyes took on a mischievous glint. “I shagged that busty blonde in a maintenance closet. Her tits were real.”
“Well, then.” I smiled. “You made her night, I’m sure.”
“I try.” He picked up the phone receiver and winked at me. “What kind of delivery do you want? Subs? Chinese? Indian?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’re always hungry. If you don’t pick something, I’ll cook and you’ll have to eat that.”
I lifted my hand in surrender. “Okay, okay. You pick.”
I got to work twenty minutes early on Monday, figuring I’d skip running into Gideon. Whe
n I reached my desk without incident, I felt such relief that I knew I was in serious trouble where he was concerned. My moods were shifting all over the place.
Mark arrived in high spirits, still floating from his major successes of the week before, and we dug right into work. I’d done some vodka market comparisons on Sunday and he was kind enough to go over those with me and listen to my impressions. Mark was also assigned the account for a new e-reader manufacturer, so we began the initial work on that.
With such a busy morning, time flew swiftly and I didn’t have time to think about my personal life. I was really grateful for that. Then I answered the phone and heard Gideon on the line. I wasn’t prepared.
“How’s your Monday been so far?” he asked, his voice sending a shiver of awareness through me.
“Hectic.” I glanced at the clock and was startled to see it was twenty minutes to noon.
“Good.” There was a pause. “I tried calling you yesterday. I left a couple messages. I wanted to hear your voice.”
My eyes closed on a deep breath. It had taken every bit of my willpower to make it through the day without listening to the voice mail. I’d even enlisted Cary in the cause, telling him to restrain me forcibly if it looked like I might succumb to the urge. “I did the hermit thing and worked a little.”
“Did you get the flowers I sent?”
“Yes. They’re lovely. Thank you.”
“They reminded me of your dress.”
What the hell was he doing? I was beginning to think he had multiple personality disorder. “Some women might say that’s romantic.”
“I only care what you say.” His chair creaked as if he’d pushed to his feet. “I thought about stopping by…I wanted to.”
I sighed, surrendering to my confusion. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
There was another long pause. “I deserved that.”
“I didn’t say it to be a bitch. It’s just the truth.”
“I know. Listen…I arranged for lunch up here in my office so we don’t waste any of the hour leaving and getting back.”
After his parting, I’ll call you, I’d wondered if he would want to get together again after he settled down from whatever trip he’d been on. It was a possibility I’d been dreading since Saturday night, aware that I needed to cut him off, but feeling strung out from the desire to be with him. I wanted to experience again that pure, perfect moment of intimacy we’d shared.
But I couldn’t justify that one moment against all the other moments when he made me feel like crap.
“Gideon, we don’t have any reason to have lunch together. We hashed things out Friday night, and we…took care of business Saturday. Let’s just leave it at that.”
“Eva.” His voice turned gruff. “I know I fucked up. Let me explain.”
“You don’t have to. It’s okay.”
“It’s not. I need to see you.”
“I don’t want—”
“We can do this the easy way, Eva. Or you can make it difficult.” His tone took on a hard edge that made my pulse quicken. “Either way, you’ll hear me out.”
I closed my eyes, understanding that I wasn’t lucky enough to get away with a quick good-bye phone chat. “Fine. I’ll come up.”
“Thank you.” He exhaled audibly. “I can’t wait to see you.”
I returned the receiver to its cradle and stared at the photos on my desk, trying to formulate what I needed to say and steeling myself for the impact of seeing Gideon again. The ferocity of my physical response to him was impossible to control. Somehow I’d have to get past it and take care of business. Later, I’d think about having to see him in the building over the days, weeks, and months ahead. For the moment, I just had to focus on making it through lunch.
Yielding to the inevitable, I got back to work comparing the visual impact of some blow-in card samples.
“Eva.”
I jumped and spun around in my chair, startled to find Gideon standing beside my cubicle. The sight of him blew me away, as usual, and my heart stuttered in my chest. A quick glance at the clock proved that a quarter hour had passed in no time at all.
“Gid—Mr. Cross. You didn’t have to come down here.”
His face was calm and impassive, but his eyes were stormy and hot. “Ready?”
I opened my drawer and pulled out my purse, taking the opportunity to suck in a deep, shaky breath. He smelled phenomenal and looked even better.
“Mr. Cross.” Mark’s voice. “It’s great to see you. Is there something—?”
“I’m here for Eva. We have a lunch date.”
I straightened in time to see Mark’s brows shoot up. He recovered quickly, his face smoothing into its usual good-natured handsomeness.
“I’ll be back at one,” I assured him.
“See you then. Enjoy your lunch.”
Gideon put his hand at the small of my back and steered me out to the elevators, garnering raised brows from Megumi when we passed reception. I shifted restlessly as he hit the call button for the elevator, wishing I could’ve made it through the day without seeing the man whose touch I craved like a drug.
He faced me as we waited for the car, running his fingertips down the sleeve of my satin blouse. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you in that red dress. I hear the sounds you make when you’re turned on. I feel you sliding over my cock, squeezing me like a fist, making me come so hard it hurts.”
“Don’t.” I looked away, unable to bear the intimate way he was looking at me.
“I can’t help it.”
The arrival of the elevator was a relief. He caught my hand and pulled me inside. After he put his key in the panel, he tugged me closer. “I’m going to kiss you, Eva.”
“I don’t—”
He pulled me into him and sealed his mouth over mine. I resisted as long as I could; then I melted at the feel of his tongue stroking slow and sweet over mine. I’d wanted his kiss since we’d had sex. I wanted the reassurance that he valued what we’d shared, that it meant something to him as it had to me.
I was left bereft once again when he pulled away.
“Come on.” He pulled the key out as the door opened.
Gideon’s redheaded receptionist said nothing this time, although she eyed me strangely. In contrast, Gideon’s secretary, Scott, stood when we approached and greeted me pleasantly by name.
“Good afternoon, Miss Tramell.”
“Hi, Scott.”
Gideon gave him a curt nod. “Hold my calls.”
“Yes, of course.”
I entered Gideon’s expansive office, my gaze drifting to the sofa where he’d first touched me intimately.
Lunch was arranged on the bar—two plates covered in metal salvers.
“Can I take your purse?” he asked.
I looked at him, saw he’d taken off his jacket and slung it over his arm. He stood there in his tailored slacks and vest, his shirt and tie both a pristine white, his hair dark and thick around his breathtaking face, his eyes a wild and dazzling blue. In a word, he amazed me. I couldn’t believe I’d made love to such a gorgeous man.
But then, it hadn’t meant the same thing to him.
“Eva?”
“You’re beautiful, Gideon.” The words fell out of my mouth without conscious thought.
His brows lifted; then a softness came into his eyes. “I’m glad you like what you see.”
I handed him my purse and moved away, needing the space. He hung his coat and my purse on the coatrack, then moved to the bar.
I crossed my arms. “Let’s just get this over with. I don’t want to see you anymore.”
Gideon shoved a hand through his hair and exhaled harshly. “You don’t mean that.”
I was suddenly very tired, exhausted from fighting with myself over him. “I really do. You and me…it was a mistake.”
His jaw tightened. “It wasn’t. The way I handled it afterward was the mistake.”
I stared at him, startled by the fierceness of his denial.
“I wasn’t talking about the sex, Gideon. I’m talking about my agreeing to this crazy strangers-with-benefits deal between us. I knew it was all wrong from the beginning. I should’ve listened to my instincts.”
“Do you want to be with me, Eva?”
“No. That’s what—”
“Not like we discussed at the bar. More than that.”
My heart started to pound. “What are you talking about?”
“Everything.” He left the bar and came closer. “I want to be with you.”
“You didn’t seem like you did Saturday.” My arms tightened around my middle.
“I was…reeling.”
“So? I was, too.”
His hands went to his hips. Then his arms crossed like mine. “Christ, Eva.”
I watched him squirm and felt a flare of hope. “If that’s all you’ve got, we’re done.”
“The hell we are.”
“We’ve already hit a dead end if you’re going to take a head trip every time we have sex.”
He visibly struggled with what to say. “I’m used to having control. I need it. And you blew it all to hell in the limousine. I didn’t handle that well.”
“Ya think?”
“Eva.” He approached. “I’ve never experienced anything like that. I didn’t think it was possible for me to. Now that I have…I’ve got to have it. I’ve got to have you.”
“It’s just sex, Gideon. Super awesome sex, but that can seriously screw with your head when the two people doing it aren’t good for each other.”
“Bullshit. I’ve admitted I fucked up. I can’t change what happened, but I can sure as shit get pissed that you want to cut me off because of it. You laid out your rules and I adjusted to accommodate them, but you won’t make even a tiny adjustment for me. You have to meet me halfway.” His face was hard with frustration. “At least give me a damn inch.”
I stared at him, trying to figure out what he was doing and where this was going. “What do you want, Gideon?” I asked softly.
