“Hey.” Gideon appears by my side, looking subdued. I wonder if he’ll tell me what he and Archer talked about. I’m dying to know. “Where’s Morgan and what’s his face?”
Ha. As if Axel Beck isn’t the most famous person here. “They left a few minutes ago. Oscar’s in the kitchen.”
Gideon stares at nothing for a moment, a glass of something forgotten in his hand.
“Hey.” I give him a nudge, my voice only for him. “Everything okay?”
He nods, but his expression doesn’t ease. “Everything okay at home?”
I’m amazed that this is the first time he’s asking about it. I figured he’d have my phone glued to his hand. “Yep. Rustem has everything under control,” I lie. I don’t know why, but I don’t want anyone to know only my security system is guarding the notebooks.
“You’ve still got Rustem working for you?” Archer asks this with a dark undercurrent to his tone.
“Sure. Why would I fire him?”
The tension ratchets up another notch. There’s an itchiness to the guys that is spilling over to Raven and me.
“Too bad Rustem couldn’t come too,” Raven says too brightly. “I miss him. He promised to show me some wrestling techniques the next time I saw him.”
Bishop’s nostrils flare, but he tamps down his reaction as soon as it hits him.
“I can show you some moves,” Gage says.
“She wants real self-defense not bare-knuckle brawling,” Cassian says.
“Bare-knuckle brawling?” I repeat slowly. “And MMA. And wrestling. Are you guys part of some fight-club thing?”
My cheeks heat as I remember all the rumors about them being members of a sex club. Maybe it’s a combo fight/sex club. Dudes would be into that probably.
Raven laughs. “Oh, they used to be. These guys…” She takes them all in. “Man, when Dad first brought them home, I don’t know what he was thinking.”
“Really? Tell me about it.”
Raven’s only too happy to, although the guys don’t look very pleased.
“Well, this one”—she points to Cassian—“was using some kind of phishing scam through email to get control of people’s computers. Really beautifully written emails though. If he wasn’t lying through his teeth, it would have been pure poetry.”
“I never knew you saw those emails,” Cassian says. “They were pretty good. But you have to be when you’re convincing someone to click a phishing link.”
Eww. I’m suddenly less sure Cassian isn’t a total sleaze. “Isn’t that illegal?”
His blue eyes go cold. “It was. But it fed my family for a couple of years.”
Gideon clears this throat. “What Cassian won’t tell you is that he paid all those people back with interest when he made his first million. And now his marketing emails—while still being pure poetry—are completely legal.”
“You’re going to ruin my rep.” The coldness in Cassian’s eyes hasn’t thawed.
“Email phishing.” Gage shakes his head. “As if that gives you a rep.”
Oooh, here comes the bare-knuckle part.
“Better than getting my head bashed in everyday by the village idiot,” Cassian says back.
“Women love scars. And some wounds.” Gage points to Gideon’s broken fingers. “Just ask him.”
I open my mouth, then close it. “We… It’s not like that.”
Archer gives me a look. “It’s not? Because Gideon’s never brought someone to one of these.”
That’s the second or third time someone’s mentioned that.
“Don’t start planning the wedding,” I say dryly, mostly to hide my confusion. This wasn’t supposed to be that serious. It was only supposed to be a party.
Archer actually smiles. Not just amused but also knowing.
“Told you you’d like her,” Gideon says.
Great. They were talking about me in their little private session. The heat in my cheeks jumps ten degrees, and I must be beet red.
“Stop teasing her,” Raven says. “And don’t distract me from telling all about your scandalous pasts.”
The tension clamps down even harder, every one of their mouths flattening. And then, with an effort, as if they’d all practiced, they relax again.
Huh.
Bishop smiles, but it’s forced. “No scandals in my past. No email scams or street fights or dropping out of med school.”
There’s a quiet sadness to his voice that catches at me. Whatever brought Bishop to Ira’s attention, it wasn’t anything that could be spun as good.
I turn to Archer. “Have you done anything as terrible as dropping out of med school?”
“Worse. I dropped out of law school.”
I can’t help the face I pull, but after having Nick sue Elena every chance he gets—and what we have to pay to make those lawsuits go away—I don’t have the greatest opinion of lawyers.
Archer isn’t offended though. “That was my reaction exactly. My parents…” His gaze cuts to Gideon. “They weren’t too happy about it.”
“That’s an understatement,” Gideon says.
“They weren’t as bad as your parents.” Archer looks at me and points to Gideon. “When this guy dropped out, his parents went nuclear. Cut off all his funds, blocked his access to his bank account, reported all his credit cards for fraud—he was dead broke.”
I put my hand to my throat, bile rising up. “That’s terrible.”
Gideon shrugs as if it’s no big deal to have your parents ruin you financially. “I had this plan to sleep in my car.”
Archer starts to laugh. “Yeah, but then they had it repo’d.”
I don’t find it funny at all. “How could they do that?”
“I opened up most of those accounts when I was in high school, on my way to college. My parents had to cosign on most of them, so they had the power to fuck with the accounts.”
I didn’t mean how could they logistically do it—more how they could justify doing it. Gideon had said his parents didn’t care about him, but I hadn’t understood the depths of that until now. “And all because you dropped out of med school?”
“If I went back, all would be forgiven.” Gideon’s expression is bitter.
Raven puts a hand on his arm. “But things are better now. They’re coming to your gala at the neurosurgery department, aren’t they?”
“That’s still on?” Gage asks. “Considering…” He gestures to Gideon’s splint.
“Sure. Can’t disappoint my adoring fans.”
“You’d better not cancel,” Cassian says. “My team has been working on the campaign for months. It’s some of their best work.”
“Wait.” I hold up a hand because we’ve gotten sidetracked. “What happened with the car and the frozen credit cards and all that? You would have been homeless at that point.”
Ira must have taken him in then, let him stay in this cozy house.
“Archer let me share his garage. At least until we made our first million.”
I blink because I must have misunderstood. “His garage?”
“It wasn’t mine,” Archer clarifies. “I was renting it. And living in it.”
“Bay Area real estate at its finest,” Cassian says.
Gideon nods. “It was freezing at night and an oven during the day. Just miserable.” His tone is fond with memories though.
“Gage brought us those beds, remember? Otherwise we would have been on air mattresses.” Archer’s tone is also fond.
Gage shakes his head. “Those beds were a trade. I was working on the software for that detector, do you remember?”
“God.” Bishop groans. “I tried to forget that. That one chip kept burning out.”
“Until Archer and Gideon figured out what was wrong and saved the whole thing.” Gage’s expression tightens, releases. “I never would’ve gotten my company off the ground if not for that. So a couple of beds is hardly a fair trade.”
“You gave me my first big loan,” Gideon says. “I’d never have convinc
ed investors to give me enough to buy all the equipment I needed. Or the money to start all those FDA trials.”
“We could spend all night going through what we owe each other,” Bishop says.
Raven’s mouth twists wistfully. “Dad always said you guys could do anything when you got together.” She sounds like she’s on the outside looking in. Like her own dad kept her on the outside.
She didn’t get a notebook, which strikes me as terribly sad, and suddenly I don’t know if I like Ira so much. He might have saved all these guys, brought them together… but I don’t know that he was good, exactly.
“You guys are lucky to have found each other.” I don’t say that they’re lucky Ira found them—I’m not ready to give him all the credit.
Suddenly I understand how awful it must be for Gideon to suspect them. Abandoned and punished by his parents, taken in and supported by these guys—they would have been his chosen family. He’d expect his parents to turn on him. But not these guys.
I reach for his hand, the injured one. I cradle it in mine, careful of the splints. There are some scrapes across his knuckles, fresh-looking. He must have gotten these when he saved me, and I didn’t see them last night. Didn’t clean them. I shouldn’t have missed them.
Gideon looks down at our joined hands with surprise. But he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans closer, brushing our linked fingers with his leg. Almost as if he’s drawing comfort from it.
I really, really hope he is.
Chapter 21
The ride home was a tense one. But a good kind of tension, the kind I know is going to be relieved the moment we get to my bed.
They all loved Tess, just like I thought they would. And we’ve got an appointment tomorrow to go over the notebooks and figure out what might be going on. I’m not convinced one of them isn’t behind it, but sitting alone in my house, waiting, isn’t getting me anywhere.
We all agreed that we wouldn’t open Tynan’s notebook. It might hobble our efforts from the very beginning, but even the mention of his name is radioactive to us. We’ll only open that notebook when we’re desperate.
Cassian argued that it didn’t matter, that he was dead and nothing was bringing him back. And Gage pointed out that it wasn’t about bringing him back; it was about our responsibility for his death.
Tess and Raven weren’t there to hear that. They were off with Oscar, looking at old pictures while the rest of us had a furious conference. If it’s not one of them, then I’m at a dead end for suspects. I’ll need their help to track down whoever it is.
It’s making me grind my teeth even now, but it’s done. I pull the car into the garage, next to the busted Inspirons, then glance over at Tess. She raises one impudent eyebrow at me.
Immediately my pulse picks up. She’s planning something, and it looks like something I’m going to like. I lean back against the door, letting the keys fall onto the dash. “Got plans for tonight?” I ask in a gravelly voice.
She shrugs with one shoulder. “Some knitting. An early bedtime.”
The hell she is. I lean forward. “Is that really what you think you’ll be doing?”
Her shiver is fucking delicious, ripe with anticipation. “What do you think I’ll be doing?” She wets her lips.
“I can think of a lot of things.” I tip her chin up and her eyes darken. “Want to hear some of them?”
“Mmm. Sounds”—she trails her fingers down her chest and flirts with her cleavage—“interesting.”
I watch her fingers like a hawk sighting a shadow. “Are you… teasing me? I don’t know if you’re ready for what that’s going to unleash.”
“I don’t think you’re half the beast you pretend to be.” Her eyes gleam. “And even if you are, I can handle it.”
Holy hell. I bet she can. I grab her and pull her up and over the center console, kissing her like the beast I am. It’s lips and tongues and teeth, so wild I want to throw my head back and roar. Her arms wrap around my neck, her breasts brushing against my chest. They’re so soft, so full, like sexual works of art.
The Porsche is too small for what I have in mind, but somehow the confined space makes my urges that much more expansive. I want to blow the roof off this thing with the passion between us, and I’m sure we can.
She’s panting into my mouth, her stiff nipples rubbing against my chest. Her sweetly fevered responsiveness is the greatest thing I’ve ever experienced. I could kiss this woman, all her soft spots rubbing against me, for an eternity. And when we got to the end of that, I’d start all over again.
“Gideon.” Her fists clench in my shirt. “Gideon.”
“That’s right.” I’m riding the edge of cruel. “Beg me. I’ll give it all to you, but beg me.”
She drags my mouth down to hers, demanding as all hell. She’s not going to beg—she’s going to take it. She wants me that bad.
I reach under her skirt, finding the smooth curves of her thigh. She gasps when I brush her knee, panting when I caress the soft welcome of her inner thigh. My other hand, the bad one, curls around her waist, lifting her up so that her legs fall open, giving me access to what she’s got hiding under that skirt. But I can only lift her so high, my last two fingers refusing to do any work no matter how I command them.
“Your hands.” Her voice is light and fluttery as a butterfly.
I want to say fuck my hands, I only need her. Being inside her will repair all the busted parts of me. But she’s right—my hand’s caught between her and the seat and if she twists just so… Snap, crackle, pop.
“We’re going to my bed. Do whatever you need to do with the security system,” I tell her, “because you’re not leaving my bed until the next morning. At the earliest.”
Her lips part, soft, wet. “Um…” She squeezes her eyes shut and clamps her thighs together.
Poor thing, trying to remember how to think. Once the system’s set for the night, she won’t have to worry about thinking again for hours. I’ll make certain of that.
“It’s already set. If anything happens, my phone will go off.”
I’m so far gone in her, I don’t even consider that the phone will go off. I’ll have Tess in my bed and that’s all that will matter. The world wouldn’t dare to intrude.
I get out of the car, and she scrambles out after me, right over the console. Greedy, eager woman. I love it.
With my good hand, I catch her, help her out of the car and into the shelter of me. Every few steps, quick, frantic, I kiss her. I can’t help it—if I go without the taste of her mouth for too long, I feel like the air’s been driven out of me.
Her hands skim over me, her body pressed hard against mine. She’s so damn soft, but there’s strength in her too. The contrast makes my head spin.
My own body is alight, alive. There’s pain, yes, because my hand and ribs are still broken, but it’s faint, drowned out by the desire humming through me, rising and rising with each step we take toward my bed. It’ll be a roar by the time we hit the mattress.
As soon as I open my bedroom door, a voice chimes, “You’re back. Would you like me—”
“Shut up,” I tell Gulizar. “No talking.”
“Certainly.” She almost sounds petulant.
Tess is laughing behind her hand. “You’re the one who programmed her.”
“I’m going to take away her voice capability,” I growl. I look up at the ceiling, although that isn’t where the program actually is. “You hear that? One word, and you’re getting done like Hal 9000.”
Nothing comes from the speakers. Good.
“Aww.” Tess’s face falls. “That’s too much.”
I advance on her, pushing her back toward the bed. “Really? What would you do to save that computer?” I nip at the side of her neck. “Anything?”
“You beast,” she whispers, heat flaring in her eyes.
“That’s right. Your beast for tonight.” I lean into her ear and whisper, “Where do you want my fangs?”
She shudders so sw
eetly I want to snarl. Instead, I lay her out on the bed, her honey-brown hair spread out around her, her green eyes bright with wanting.
“Beast.” This time it’s almost affectionate. Her hand runs through my hair like she’s petting me. Like she’s taming me for her own.
It almost scares me how badly I want to be tamed by her and only her.
Chapter 22
His bed looked too big when I saw it before, but once Gideon pulls me down to the mattress, I realize that it might actually be too small. Gideon’s presence is so large it fills every inch of the space to overflowing. Add in his overpowering desire for me and I’m amazed there’s still air to breathe.
And that line about his fangs… I shivered so hard I thought I might come just from the aftershocks.
“You never answered,” he says severely, going to work on the buttons of my dress.
His fingers are pressing into my breasts, the touch sending a wave of heat through my belly. “Hmm?” If he wants coherence, he’ll have to stop touching me. Judging by his expression, fat chance of that.
“My fangs.” He pops open a button, revealing the swell of my breasts. “My mouth.” Another button, and cool air hits my belly. “My tongue.” He swipes his tongue over the skin he’s uncovered, hot and firm. “My cock.”
Gah. I can’t take much more of this teasing. “My pussy,” I pant. “I need it there. All of it.”
He gives me a feral smile, then tears open the rest of my buttons. I hear them ping and scatter when they hit the floor.
I lift up, shake off my dress. When I lie back, I catch him looking at my white cotton panties with an odd expression.
“Jesus, those panties of yours…,” he mutters to himself. “So fucking simple, but they’re blowing my mind.”
He looks more than ready to rip off some more clothes, so I quickly unhook my bra and toss it aside. That one’s broken in just right, and I don’t want to lose it to Mr. Beast Mode here.
My panties though… “You could take them off with your teeth.” I have no idea what’s gotten into me when I say that, but it’s the same impulse that has me lifting my knee, my toes trailing over the silken sheets.
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