Crossfire 01 Bared to You (51 page)

“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 coaxing 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.”

“Eva.”

He rolled into me, peeling my shirt off with cautious movements. I was similarly tentative in undressing him. We approached each other as if each of us was breakable. The bond between us was fragile just then, both of us apprehensive about the future and the wounds we could inflict with all of our jagged edges.

His lips wrapped around my nipple, his cheeks hollowing slowly, his seduction subdued. The tender suckling felt so good I gasped and arched into his hand. He caressed my side from breast to hip and back again, over and over, gentling me as my heart raced wildly.

He kissed across my chest to the other breast, murmuring words of apology and need in a voice broken by regret and misery. His tongue lapped at the hardened point, worrying it, before surrounding it with wet heat and suction.

“Gideon.” The delicate pulls expertly coaxed desire through my skittish mind. My body was already lost in him, greedily seeking the pleasure and beauty of his.

“Don’t be afraid of me,” he whispered. “Don’t pull away.”

He kissed my navel, and then moved lower, his hair caressing my stomach as he settled between my legs. He held me open with shaking hands and nuzzled my clit. His light, teasing licks through my cleft and the fluttering dips into my trembling sex took me to the edge of insanity.

My back bowed. Hoarse pleas left my lips. Tension spread through my body, tightening everything until I felt like I might snap under the pressure. And then he pushed me into orgasm with the softest nudge of the tip of his tongue.

I cried out, heated relief pulsing through my writhing body.

“I can’t let you go, Eva.” Gideon levered over me as I vibrated with pleasure. “I can’t.”

Brushing away the tear tracks from his face, I stared into his reddened eyes. His torment was painful for me to witness, hurting my heart. “I wouldn’t let you if you tried.”

He took himself in hand and fed his cock slowly, carefully into me. My head pressed hard into the floor as he sank deeper, possessing my body one thick inch at a time.

When I’d taken all of him, he began to move in measured, deliberate thrusts. I closed my eyes and focused on the connection between us. Then he settled onto me, his stomach pressed to mine, and my pulse leaped with panic. Abruptly frightened, I hesitated.

“Look at me, Eva.” His voice was so hoarse it was unrecognizable.

I did, and saw his anguish.

“Make love to me,” he begged in a breathless whisper. “Make love
with
me. Touch me, angel. Put your hands on me.”

“Yes.” My palms pressed flat to his back; then stroked over the quivering muscles to his ass. Squeezing the hard flexing flesh, I urged him to move faster, plunge deeper.

The rhythmic strokes of his heavy cock through the clenching depths of my sex pushed ecstasy through me in heated waves. He felt so good. My legs wrapped around his plunging hips, my breath quickening as the cold knot inside me began to melt. Our gazes held.

Tears coursed down my temples. “I love you, Gideon.”

“Please…” His eyes squeezed shut.

“I love you.”

He lured me to orgasm with the skilled rolling of his hips, stirring his cock inside me. My sex clenched tightly, trying to hold him, trying to keep him deep in me.