Reflected in You: A Crossfire Novel Read online

  “Your relationship has been highly sexualized from the beginning?” he asked.

  I nodded, even though he wasn’t looking. “We’re very attracted to each other.”

  “Obviously.” He glanced up and offered a kind smile. “However, I’d like to discuss the possibility of abstinence while we—”

  “There is no possibility,” Gideon interjected. “That’s a nonstarter. I suggest we focus on what’s not working without eliminating one of the few things that is.”

  “I’m not sure it is working, Gideon,” Dr. Petersen said evenly. “Not the way it should be.”

  “Doctor.” Gideon set one ankle on the opposite knee and settled back, creating a picture of unyielding decisiveness. “The only way I’m keeping my hands off her is if I’m dead. Find another way to fix us.”

  * * *

  “I’m new to this therapy thing,” Gideon said later, after we’d gotten back into the Bentley and were heading home. “So I’m not sure. Was that the train wreck it felt like it was?”

  “It could’ve gone better,” I said wearily, leaning my head back and closing my eyes. I was bone tired. Too tired to even think about catching the eight o’clock Krav Maga class. “I’d kill for a quick shower and my bed.”

  “I have some things to take care of before I can call it a day.”

  “That’s fine.” I yawned. “Why don’t we take the night off and see each other tomorrow?”

  Thick silence greeted my suggestion. After a moment, it became so fraught with tension that I was motivated to lift both my head and my heavy eyelids to look at him.

  His gaze was on my face, his lips thinned into a frustrated line. “You’re cutting me off.”

  “No, I’m—”

  “The hell you’re not! You’ve tried and convicted me, and now you’re shutting me out.”

  “I’m exhausted, Gideon! There’s only so much bullshit I can take before I’m buried in it. I need sleep and—”

  “I need you,” he snapped. “What is it going to take to make you believe me?”

  “I don’t think you cheated. Okay? As suspicious as it all looks, I can’t convince myself you’d do that. It’s the secrets that are getting to be too much. I’m giving all I’ve got to this and you’re—”

  “You think I’m not?” He twisted in the seat, sliding one bent leg in between us so that he faced me directly. “I’ve never worked so hard for anything in my life as I have for you.”

  “You can’t make the effort for me. You have to do it for you.”

  “Don’t give me that crap! I wouldn’t need to work on my relationship skills for anyone else.”

  With a low moan, I rested my cheek against the seat and closed my eyes again. “I’m tired of fighting, Gideon. I just want some peace and quiet for a night. I’ve been feeling off all day.”

  “Are you sick?” He shifted, cupping the back of my neck gently and pressing his lips to my forehead. “You don’t feel hot. Is your stomach upset?”

  I breathed him in, absorbing the delicious scent of his skin. The urge to press my face into the crook of his neck was nearly overwhelming.

  “No.” And then it hit me. I groaned.

  “What is it?” He pulled me into his lap, cradling me close. “What’s wrong? Do you need a doctor?”

  “It’s my period,” I whispered, not wanting Angus to overhear. “It should start any day now. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it before. No wonder I’m so tired and cranky; I’m hormonal.”

  He stilled. After a heartbeat or two, I tilted my head back to search his face.

  With his lips twisted ruefully, he admitted, “That’s a new one for me. Not something that comes up in the course of a casual sex life.”

  “Lucky you. You get to experience the inconvenience reserved for men with girlfriends and wives.”

  “I am lucky.” Gideon brushed loose strands of my hair away from my temples, his own luxuriant hair falling around that chiseled face. “And maybe, if I’m really lucky, you’ll feel better tomorrow and like me again.”

  Ah, God. My heart ached in my chest. “I like you now, Gideon. I just don’t like you keeping secrets. It’s going to break us up.”

  “Don’t let it,” he murmured, tracing my brows with his fingertip. “Trust me.”

  “You have to trust me back.”

  Folding over me, he pressed his lips softly to mine. “Don’t you know, angel?” he breathed. “There’s no one I trust more.”

  Sliding my arms beneath his jacket, I hugged him, soaking up the warmth of his lean, hard body. I couldn’t help but worry that we were beginning to drift from one another.

  Gideon pressed the advantage, his tongue dipping into my mouth, lightly touching and teasing mine with velvet licks. Deceptively unhurried. I sought a deeper contact, needing more. Always more. Hating that aside from this, he gave me so little of himself.

  He groaned into my mouth, an erotic sound of pleasure and need that vibrated through me. Tilting his head, he sealed those beautifully sculpted lips over mine. The kiss deepened, our tongues stroking, our breaths quickening.

  The arm he’d banded beneath my back tightened, pulling me closer. His other hand slid beneath my shirt, cradling my spine in his warm palm. His fingertips flexed, gentling me even as the kiss grew wild. I arched into the caress, needing the reassurance of his touch against my bare skin.

  “Gideon . . .” For the first time, our physical closeness wasn’t enough to calm the desperate wanting inside me.

  “Shh,” he soothed. “I’m here. Not going anywhere.”

  Closing my eyes, I buried my face in his neck, wondering if we’d both be too stubborn and stay, even if it turned out that it would be best to let go.

  Chapter 4

  I woke with a cry that was muffled by the sweaty palm mashed over my mouth. A crushing weight cut off my air as another hand shoved up beneath my nightgown, groping and bruising. Panic gripped me and I thrashed, my legs kicking frantically.

  No . . . Please, no . . . No more. Not again.

  Panting like a dog, Nathan yanked my legs apart. The hard thing between his legs poked blindly, ramming into my inner thigh. I fought, my lungs burning, but he was so strong. I couldn’t buck him off. I couldn’t get away.

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

  Ma-ma!

  Nathan’s hand pressed down on me, squashing my head into the pillow. The more I struggled, the more excited he became. Gasping horrible, nasty words in my ear, he found the tender spot between my legs and shoved into me, groaning. I froze, locking in a vise of horrendous pain.

  “Yeah,” he grunted. “. . . like it once it’s in you . . . hot little slut . . . you like it . . .”

  I couldn’t breathe, my lungs shuddering with sobs, my nostrils plugged by the heel of his palm. Spots danced before my eyes; my chest burned. I fought again . . . needing air . . . desperate for air—

  “Eva! Wake up!”

  My eyes snapped open at the barked command. I heaved myself away from the hands gripping my biceps, gaining my freedom. I clawed away . . . fighting the sheets that bound my legs . . . tumbling down . . .

  The jolting impact of hitting the floor woke me fully, and an awful sound of pain and fear scraped up through my throat.

  “Christ! Eva, damn it. Don’t hurt yourself!”

  I sucked in air with deep gulps and scrambled toward the bathroom on all fours.

  Gideon scooped me up and gripped me to his chest. “Eva.”

  “Sick,” I gasped, slapping a hand over my mouth as my stomach roiled.

  “I’ve got you,” he said grimly, carrying me with brisk, powerful strides. He took me to the toilet and tossed up the seat. Kneeling beside me, he held my hair back as I heaved, his warm hand stroking up and down my spine.

  “Shh . . . angel,” he murmured, over and over. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

  When my stomach was empty, I flushed the toilet an
d rested my sweat-drenched face on my forearm, trying to focus on anything but the remnants of my dream.

  “Baby girl.”

  I turned my head to find Cary standing in the threshold of my bathroom, his handsome face marred by a frown. He was fully dressed in loose jeans and a henley, which made me aware that Gideon was fully dressed, too. He’d lost the suit earlier when we’d first come back to my apartment, but he wasn’t wearing the sweats he had put on then. Instead he was in jeans and a black T-shirt.

  Disoriented by their appearances, I glanced at my watch and saw it was just after midnight. “What are you guys doing?”

  “I was just coming in,” Cary said. “And caught up with Cross on his way up.”

  I looked at Gideon, whose concerned frown matched my roommate’s. “You went out?”

  Gideon helped me to my feet. “I told you I had some things to take care of.”

  Until midnight? “What things?”

  “It’s not important.”

  I shrugged out of his hold and went to the sink to brush my teeth. Another secret. How many did he have?

  Cary appeared at my elbow, his gaze meeting mine in the reflection of my vanity mirror. “You haven’t had a bad dream in a long time.”

  Looking into his worried green eyes, I let him see how worn down I was.

  He gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll take it easy this weekend. Recharge. We both need it. You gonna be all right tonight?”

  “I’ve got her.” Gideon straightened from his perch on the lip of my bathtub, where he’d taken off his boots.

  “That doesn’t mean I’m not here.” Cary pressed a quick kiss to my temple. “Holler if you need me.”

  The look he gave me before he left the room spoke volumes—he wasn’t comfortable with Gideon sleeping over. Truth was, I had some reservations, too. I thought my lingering wariness over Gideon’s sleep disorder was contributing a lot to my wild emotional state. As Cary had recently said, the man I loved was a ticking time bomb, and I shared a bed with him.

  I rinsed out my mouth and dropped my toothbrush back into its holder. “I need a shower.”

  I’d taken one before I crashed, but now I felt dirty again. Cold sweat clung to my skin and when I closed my eyes, I could smell him—Nathan—on me.

  Gideon turned on the water, then started stripping, blessedly distracting me with the sight of his gloriously tight body. His muscles were hard and well defined, his build lean yet powerful and elegant.

  I left my clothes where they fell and stepped beneath the steamy spray with a groan. He entered the stall behind me, brushing my hair aside and pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “How are you?”

  “Better.” Because you’re near.

  His arms wrapped carefully around my waist and he released a shaky exhalation. “I . . . Jesus, Eva. Were you dreaming about Nathan?”

  I took a deep breath. “Maybe one day we’ll talk about our dreams, huh?”

  He inhaled sharply, his fingertips flexing against my hip. “It’s like that, is it?”

  “Yeah,” I muttered. “It’s like that.”

  We stood there for a long moment, surrounded by steam and secrets, physically close yet emotionally distant. I hated it. The urge to cry was overwhelming and I didn’t fight it. It felt good to get it out. All the pressure of the long day seemed to flow out of me as I sobbed.

  “Angel . . .” Gideon pressed into my back, his arms tight around my waist, soothing me with the protective shield of his big body. “Don’t cry . . . God. I can’t take it. Tell me what you need, angel. Tell me what I can do.”

  “Wash it away,” I whispered, leaning into him, needing the comfort of his tender possessiveness. My fingers laced with his against my stomach. “Make me clean.”

  “You are.”

  I sucked in a shuddering breath, shaking my head.

  “Listen to me, Eva. No one can touch you,” he said fiercely. “No one can get to you. Never again.”

  My fingers tightened on his.

  “They’d have to get through me, Eva. And that will never happen.”

  I couldn’t speak past the ache in my throat. The thought of Gideon facing my nightmare . . . seeing the man who’d done those things to me . . . tightened the cold knot that had been sitting in my gut all day.

  Gideon reached for my shampoo and I closed my eyes, shutting it all out, everything but the man whose sole focus at that moment was me.

  I waited, breathless, for the feel of his magic fingers. When it came, I reached out to the wall in front of me for balance. With both palms pressed flat against the cool tile, I savored the feel of his fingertips kneading into my scalp and moaned.

  “Feel good?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

  “Always.”

  I drifted in bliss as he washed and conditioned my hair, shivering lightly as he ran a wide-toothed comb through the soaked strands. I was disappointed when he finished and must have made some sound of regret, because he leaned forward and promised, “I’m not nearly done.”

  I smelled my body wash, then—

  “Gideon.”

  I arched into his soap-slick hands. His thumbs dug gently into the knots in my shoulders, melting them with the perfect amount of pressure. Then he worked his way down my spine . . . my buttocks . . . my legs . . .

  “I’m going to fall,” I slurred, drunk with pleasure.

  “I’ll catch you, angel. I’ll always catch you.”

  The pain and degradation of my memories washed away beneath the selfless reverence of Gideon’s patient caretaking. More than the soap and water, it was his touch that freed me from the nightmare. I turned around at his urging and looked at him crouched before me, his hands gliding up my calves, his body an amazing display of taut flexing muscle. Cupping his jaw, I tilted his head up.

  “You can be so good for me, Gideon,” I told him softly. “I don’t know how I could ever forget that. Even for a minute.”

  His chest expanded on a quick, deep breath. He straightened, his hands gliding up my thighs, until he towered over me again. His lips touched mine, softly. Lightly. “I know today was all kinds of fucked up. Shit . . . the whole week. It’s been hard for me, too.”

  “I know.” I hugged him, pressing my cheek to his heart. He was so solid and strong. I loved the way I felt when I was in his arms.

  He was already thick and hard between us, but he grew more so as I cuddled into him. “Eva . . .” He cleared his throat. “Let me finish, angel.”

  I nipped his jaw with my teeth and reached down to grip his perfect ass, tugging him tighter against me. “Why don’t you get started instead?”

  “That isn’t where this was headed.”

  As if it could’ve ended any other way when we were both naked and running our hands all over each other. Gideon could put his hand to the small of my back while we were walking and make me as needy as if he’d put his hand between my legs. “Well . . . revisit and revise, ace.”

  Gideon’s hands came up and gripped the sides of my throat, his thumbs beneath my chin to push it up. His frown gave him away, and before he could tell me why it wasn’t a good idea to make love now, I caught his cock in my hands.

  He growled, his hips jerking. “Eva . . .”

  “It would be a shame to waste this.”

  “I can’t screw this up with you.” His eyes were dark as sapphires. “If you ever freaked out while I was touching you, I’d lose my mind.”

  “Gideon, please—”

  “I say when.” The command in his voice was unmistakable.

  My grip loosened automatically.

  He stepped back and away, his hand dropping to fist his cock.

  I shifted restlessly, my attention riveted to that dexterous hand and its long, elegant fingers. As the distance between us widened, I began to ache, my body responding to the loss of his. The heated languidness he’d instilled with his touch turned into a slow burn, as if he’d banked a fire that had suddenly been stoked.

  “See s
omething you like?” he purred, pleasuring himself.

  Astonished that he’d taunt me after denying me, I looked up . . . and my breath caught.

  Gideon was smoldering, too. I couldn’t think of another word to describe him. He was watching me with a heavy-lidded gaze like he wanted to eat me alive. His tongue slid leisurely along the seam of his lips, as if he tasted me. When he caught the full lower curve between his teeth, I could’ve sworn I felt it between my legs. I knew that look so well . . . knew what came after it . . . knew how ferocious he could be when he wanted me that badly.

  It was a look that screamed SEX. Hard, deep, endless, mind-blowing sex. He stood on the far side of my shower, his feet planted wide, his ripped body flexing rhythmically as he caressed his beautiful cock with long, slow strokes.

  I’d never seen anything so blatantly sexual or boldly masculine.

  “Oh my God,” I breathed, riveted. “You are so fucking hot.”

  The gleam in his eyes told me he knew what he was doing to me. His free hand slid slowly up his ridged abdomen and squeezed his pectoral, making me jealous. “Could you come watching me?”

  Realization struck me. He was afraid to touch me sexually so soon after my nightmare, afraid of what it might do to us if he triggered me. But he was willing to put on a show for me—inspire me—so I could touch myself. The surge of emotion I felt in that moment was devastating. Gratitude and affection, desire and tenderness.

  “I love you, Gideon.”

  His eyes squeezed shut, as if the words were too much for him to take. When they opened again, the force of his will sent a shiver of need through me. “Show me.”

  The wide head of his cock was engulfed in his palm. He squeezed, bringing a flush to his face that had me pressing my thighs together. His thumb rubbed over the flat disk of his nipple. Once. Twice. He groaned a rough sound of delight that had me salivating.

  The water pounding at my back and the billowing steam that plumed between us only added to the eroticism of the picture he presented. His hand quickened, sliding rhythmically up and down. He was so long and thick. Undeniably virile.

  Unable to bear the ache of my tightened nipples, I cupped my breasts and squeezed.