by Sylvia Day
“You hungry for anything in particular?” she asked, pushing to her feet and giving me a chance to admire her belted, sleeveless lavender dress.
I coughed because her question came so soon after my text. “No. Your choice. I’m not picky.”
We pushed out through the glass doors to reach the elevators.
“I am so ready for the weekend,” Megumi said with a groan as she stabbed the call button with an acrylic-tipped finger. “A day and a half left to go.”
“Got something fun planned?”
“That remains to be seen.” She sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Blind date,” she explained ruefully.
“Ah. Do you trust the person setting you up?”
“My roommate. I expect the guy will at least be physically attractive, because I know where she sleeps at night and paybacks are a bitch.”
I was smiling as an elevator car reached our floor and we stepped inside. “Well, that ups your odds for a good time.”
“Not really, since she found him by going on a blind date with him first. She swears he’s great, just more my type than hers.”
“Hmm.”
“I know, right?” Megumi shook her head and looked up at the decorative, old-fashioned needle above the car doors that marked the passing floors.
“You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”
“Oh, yeah. Wish me luck.”
“Absolutely.” We’d just stepped out into the lobby when I felt my purse vibrate beneath my arm. As we passed through the turnstiles, I dug for my phone and felt my stomach tighten at the sight of Gideon’s name. He was calling, not sexting me back.
“Excuse me,” I said to Megumi before answering.
She waved it off nonchalantly. “Go for it.”
“Hey,” I greeted him playfully.
“Eva.”
I missed a step hearing the way he growled my name. There was a wealth of promise in the roughness of his voice.
Slowing, I found I was speechless, just from hearing him say my name with that edginess I craved—the sharp bite that told me he wanted to be inside me more than he wanted anything else in the world.
While people flowed around me, entering and exiting the building, I was halted by the weighted silence on my phone. The unspoken and nearly irresistible demand. He made no sound at all—I couldn’t even hear him breathing—but I felt his hunger. If I didn’t have Megumi waiting patiently for me, I’d be riding an elevator to the top floor to satisfy his unvoiced command to make good on my offer.
The memory of the time I’d sucked him off in his office simmered through me, making my mouth water. I swallowed. “Gideon . . .”
“You wanted my attention—now you have it. I want to hear you say those words.”
I felt my face flush. “I can’t. Not here. Let me call you later.”
“Step over by the column and out of the way.”
Startled, I looked around for him. Then I remembered that the Caller ID put him in his office. My gaze lifted, searching for the security cameras. Immediately, I felt his eyes on me, hot and wanting. Arousal surged through me, spurred by his desire.
“Hurry along, angel. Your friend’s waiting.”
I moved to the column, my breathing fast and audible.
“Now tell me. Your text made me hard, Eva. What are you going to do about it?”
My hand went to my throat, my gaze sliding helplessly to Megumi, who watched me with raised brows. I lifted one finger up, asking for another minute, then turned my back to her and whispered, “I want you in my mouth.”
“Why? To play with me? To tease me like you’re doing now?” There was no heat in his voice, just calm severity.
I knew to pay careful attention when Gideon got serious about sex.
“No.” I lifted my face to the tinted dome in the ceiling that concealed the nearest security camera. “To make you come. I love making you come, Gideon.”
He exhaled harshly. “A gift, then.”
Only I knew what it meant for Gideon to view a sexual act as a gift. For him, sex had previously been about pain and degradation or lust and necessity. Now, with me, it was about pleasure and love. “Always.”
“Good. Because I treasure you, Eva, and what we have. Even our driving urge to fuck each other constantly is precious to me, because it matters.”
I sagged into the column, admitting to myself that I’d fallen into an old destructive habit—I’d exploited sexual attraction to ease my insecurities. If Gideon was lusting after me, he couldn’t be lusting after anyone else. How did he always know what was going on in my mind?
“Yes,” I breathed, closing my eyes. “It matters.”
There’d been a time when I’d turned to sex to feel affection, confusing momentary desire with genuine caring. Which was why I now insisted on having some sort of friendly framework in place before I went to bed with a man. I never again wanted to roll out of a lover’s bed feeling worthless and dirty.
And I sure as hell didn’t want to cheapen what I shared with Gideon just because I was irrationally scared of losing him.
It hit me then that I was off balance. I had this sick feeling in my gut, like something awful was going to happen.
“You can have what you want after work, angel.” His voice deepened, grew raspier. “In the meantime, enjoy lunch with your co-worker. I’ll be thinking about you. And your mouth.”
“I love you, Gideon.”
It took a couple of deep breaths after I hung up to compose myself enough to join Megumi again. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Everything all right?”
“Yes. Everything’s fine.”
“Things still hot and heavy with you and Gideon Cross?” She glanced at me with a slight smile.
“Umm . . .” Oh yes. “Yes, that’s fine, too.” And I wished desperately that I could talk about it. I wished I could just open the valve and gush about my overwhelming feelings for him. How thoughts of him consumed me, how the feel of him beneath my hands drove me wild, how the passion of his tortured soul cut into me like the sharpest blade.
But I couldn’t. Not ever. He was too visible, too well known. Private tidbits about his life were worth a small fortune. I couldn’t risk it.
“He sure is,” Megumi agreed. “Damn fine. Did you know him before you started working here?”
“No. Although I suppose we would have met eventually.” Because of our pasts. My mother gave generously to many abused children’s charities, as did Gideon. It was inevitable that Gideon and I would’ve crossed paths at some point. I wondered what that meeting would have been like—him with a gorgeous brunette on his arm and me with Cary. Would we have had the same visceral reaction to each other from a distance as we’d had up close in the Crossfire lobby?
He’d wanted me the moment he saw me on the street.
“I wondered.” Megumi pushed through the revolving lobby door. “I read that it was serious between you two,” she went on when I joined her outside on the sidewalk. “So I thought maybe you’d known him before.”
“Don’t believe everything you read on those gossip blogs.”
“So it’s not serious?”
“I didn’t say that.” It was too serious at times. Painfully, brutally so.
She shook her head. “God . . . listen to me pry. Sorry. Gossip is one of my vices. So are extremely hot men like Gideon Cross. I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to hook up with a guy whose body screams sex like that. Tell me he’s awesome in bed.”
I smiled. It was good to hang out with another girl. Not that Cary couldn’t also be appreciative of a hot guy, but nothing beat girl talk. “You won’t hear me complaining.”
“Lucky bitch.” Bumping shoulders with me to show she was teasing, she said, “How about that roommate of yours? From the photos I saw, he’s gorgeous, too. Is he single? Wanna hook me up?”
Turning my head quickly, I hid a wince. I’d learned the hard way never to set up an acquaintance or friend with Car
y. He was so easy to love, which led to a lot of broken hearts because he couldn’t love back the same way. The moment things started going too well, Cary sabotaged them. “I don’t know if he’s single or not. Things are . . . complicated in his life at the moment.”
“Well, if the opportunity presents itself, I’m certainly not opposed. Just sayin’. You like tacos?”
“Love ’em.”
“I know a great place a couple blocks up. Come on.”
* * *
Things were going well in my world as Megumi and I headed back from lunch. Forty minutes of gossip, guy-ogling, and three awesome carne asada tacos later, I was feeling pretty good. And we were returning to work a little over ten minutes early, which I was glad for since I hadn’t been the most punctual employee lately, even though Mark never complained.
The city was thrumming around us, taxis and people surging through the growing heat and humidity as they crammed what they could into the insufficient hours of the day. I people-watched shamelessly, my eyes skimming over everyone and everything.
Men in business suits walked alongside women in flowing skirts and flip-flops. Ladies in haute couture and five-hundred-dollar shoes teetered past steaming hot dog vendor carts and shouting hawkers. The eclectic mix of New York was heaven to me, stirring an excitement that made me feel more vibrant here than anyplace else I’d ever lived.
We were stopped by a traffic light directly across from the Crossfire, and my gaze was immediately drawn to the black Bentley sitting in front of it. Gideon must’ve just gotten back from lunch. I couldn’t help but think about him sitting in his car on the day we’d met, watching me as I took in the imposing beauty of his Crossfire Building. It made me tingly just thinking about it—
Suddenly, I went cold.
Because a striking brunette breezed out of the revolving doors just then and paused, giving me a good, long look at her—Gideon’s ideal, whether he’d been aware of it or not. A woman I’d witnessed him fixate on the moment he’d seen her in the Waldorf Astoria ballroom. A woman whose poise and hold over Gideon brought out all my worst insecurities.
Corinne Giroux looked like a breath of fresh air in a cream-colored sheath dress and cherry red heels. She ran a hand over her waist-length dark hair, which wasn’t quite as sleek as it’d appeared last night when I’d met her. In fact, it looked a little disheveled. And her fingers were rubbing at her mouth, wiping along the outline of her lips.
I pulled my smartphone out, activated the camera, and snapped a picture. With the proximity of the zoom, I could see why she was fussing with her lipstick—it was smeared. No, more like mashed. As if from a passionate kiss.
The light changed. Megumi and I moved with the flow, closing the distance between me and the woman who’d once had Gideon’s promise to marry her. Angus stepped out of the Bentley and came around, speaking to her briefly before opening the back door for her. The feeling of betrayal—Angus’s and Gideon’s—was so fierce, I couldn’t catch my breath. I swayed on my feet.
“Hey.” Megumi caught my arm to steady me. “And we only had virgin margaritas, lightweight!”
I watched Corinne’s willowy body slide into the back of Gideon’s car with practiced grace. My fists clenched as fury surged through me. Through the haze of my angry tears, the Bentley pulled away from the curb and disappeared.
Chapter 3
When Megumi and I stepped into an elevator, I hit the button for the top floor.
“I’ll be back in five minutes, if anyone asks,” I told her, as she stepped off at Waters Field & Leaman.
“Give him a kiss for me, will you?” she said, playfully fanning herself. “Makes me hot just thinking about living vicariously through you.”
I managed a smile before the doors closed and the car continued its ascent. When it reached the end of the line, I exited into a tastefully ornate and undeniably masculine entrance foyer. Smoky glass security doors were sandblasted with CROSS INDUSTRIES and softened by hanging baskets of ferns and lilies.
Gideon’s redheaded receptionist was unusually cooperative and buzzed me in before I reached the door. Then she grinned at me in a way that got my back up. I’d always gotten the impression she didn’t like me, so I didn’t trust that smile for a minute. It made me twitchy. Still, I waved and said hello, because I wasn’t a catty bitch—unless I was given good reason to be.
I took the long hallway that led to Gideon, stopping at a large secondary reception area where his secretary, Scott, manned the desk.
Scott stood as I approached. “Hello, Eva,” he greeted me, reaching for his phone. “I’ll let him know you’re here.”
The glass wall that separated Gideon’s office from the rest of the floor was usually crystal clear but could be made opaque with the push of a button. It was frosted now, which increased my uneasiness. “Is he alone?”
“Yes, but—”
Whatever else he said was lost as I pushed through the glass door and into Gideon’s domain. It was a massive space, with three distinct seating areas, each larger than my boss Mark’s entire office. In contrast to the elegant warmth of Gideon’s apartment, his office was decorated in a cool palette of black, gray, and white broken only by the jewel-toned crystal decanters that decorated the wall behind a bar.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city on two sides. The one solid wall opposite the immense desk was covered in flat screens streaming news channels from around the world.
My gaze swept the room and caught on the throw pillow that had been carelessly knocked to the floor. Beside it were indents in the area rug that betrayed where the couch feet were usually planted. The piece of furniture had, apparently, been bumped askew by a few inches.
My heart rate sped up and my palms grew damp. That awful anxiety I’d felt earlier intensified.
I had just noticed the open door to the washroom when Gideon stepped into view, stealing my breath with the beauty of his exposed torso. His hair was damp, as if from a recent shower, and his neck and upper chest were still flushed, as it became when he exerted himself physically.
He froze when he saw me, his gaze darkening for an instant before his perfect, implacable mask slid effortlessly into place.
“It’s not a good time, Eva,” he said, shrugging into a dress shirt he’d had draped over the back of a bar stool . . . a different shirt from the one he’d been wearing earlier that morning. “I’m running late to an appointment.”
I gripped my purse tightly. Seeing him so intimately brought home how badly I wanted him. I loved him insanely, needed him like I needed to breathe . . . which only made it easier for me to understand how Magdalene and Corinne felt, and to relate to any lengths they might go to in trying to lure him away from me. “Why are you half dressed?”
There was no help for it. My body responded instinctively to the sight of his, which made it even harder for me to rein in my rioting emotions. His open, neatly pressed dress shirt revealed golden skin stretched tightly over washboard abs and perfectly defined pectorals. A dusting of dark hair over his chest arrowed down and darkened into a thin line, leading to a cock presently encased in boxer briefs and slacks. Just thinking about how he felt inside me made me ache with longing.
“I got something on my shirt.” He began buttoning up, his abs flexing with his movements as he crossed over to the bar, where I saw his cuff links waiting. “I have to run. If you need something, let Scott know and he’ll see to it. Or I’ll take care of it when I get back. I shouldn’t be more than two hours.”
“Why are you running late?”
He didn’t look at me when he answered, “I had to squeeze in a last-minute meeting.”
Did you now? “You showered this morning.” After making love to me for an hour. “Why did you have to shower again?”
“Why the inquisition?” he snapped.
Needing answers, I went to the washroom. The lingering humidity was oppressive. Ignoring the voice in my head telling me not to look for trouble I couldn’t bear to find, I
dug his shirt out of the laundry basket . . . and saw red lipstick smeared like a bloodstain on one of the cuffs. Pain twisted through my chest.
Dropping the garment on the floor, I pivoted and left, needing to get as far away from Gideon as possible. Before I threw up or started sobbing.
“Eva!” he snapped as I hurried past him. “What the hell is the matter with you?”
“Fuck you, asswipe.”
“Excuse me?”
My hand was on the door handle when he caught me, yanking me back by the elbow. Spinning, I slapped him with enough force to turn his head and set my palm on fire.
“Goddamn it,” he growled, grabbing me by the arms and shaking me. “Don’t fucking hit me!”
“Don’t touch me!” The feel of his bare hands on the bare skin of my arms was too much.
He shoved back and away from me. “What the fuck’s gotten into you?”
“I saw her, Gideon.”
“Saw who?”
“Corinne!”
He scowled. “What are you talking about?”
Pulling my smartphone out, I thrust the photo in his face. “Busted.”
Gideon’s gaze narrowed on the screen, and then his scowl cleared. “Busted doing what, exactly?” he asked, too softly.
“Oh, screw you.” I turned toward the door, shoving my phone in my purse. “I’m not spelling it out for you.”
His palm slapped against the glass, holding the door closed. Caging me with his body, he leaned down and hissed in my ear, “Yes. Yes, you goddamn will spell it out.”
I squeezed my eyes shut as our position at the door brought back a flood of heated memories from the first time I’d been in Gideon’s office. He’d stopped me just like this, seducing me deftly, drawing us into a passionate embrace on the very couch that had recently seen some kind of action forceful enough to shove it out of position.
“Doesn’t a picture say a thousand words?” I bit out through clenched teeth.
“So Corinne was manhandled. What does that have to do with me?”
“Are you kidding me? Let me out.”