by Sylvia Day
“Are you serious? Why the hell are you sunbathing instead of chewing him a new one?”
The idea I’d been toying with fully formed in my mind. “I’m plotting.”
“Oh?” His mouth curved in a wicked grin. “Do tell.”
I picked my smartphone up from the little mosaic-topped table between us and scrolled through my contacts until I found Benjamin Clancy—my stepfather’s personal bodyguard.
“Hey, Clancy. It’s Eva,” I greeted him when he answered after the first ring.
Cary’s eyes widened behind his shades. “Ooh . . .”
Pushing to my feet, I mouthed, I’m going upstairs.
He nodded. “Everything’s fine,” I said, in answer to Clancy’s query. I waited until I’d ducked indoors and knew Sheila was several paces behind me and still outside. “Listen, I have a favor to ask you.”
* * *
I’d just ended my call with Clancy when another call came in. I grinned when I saw the Caller ID and answered with an exuberant, “Hi, Daddy!”
He laughed. “How’s my girl?”
“Causing trouble and enjoying it.” I spread my sarong out on a dining room chair and took a seat. “How are you?”
“Stopping trouble from happening and occasionally enjoying it.”
Victor Reyes was an Oceanside, California street cop, which was why I’d chosen to attend SDSU. My mom had been going through a rough patch with husband number three and I’d been in a rebellious phase, making my own life hell as I tried to forget what Nathan had done to me for so long.
Moving out of my mom’s suffocating orbit had been one of the best decisions I’d ever made. My dad’s quietly unshakeable love for me, his only child, had changed my life. He gave me much-needed freedom—within clearly defined limits—and arranged for me to see Dr. Travis, which led to the start of my long journey of recovery and my friendship with Cary.
“I miss you,” I told him. I loved my mom dearly and know she loved me back, but my relationship with her was a rocky one and it was just so easy with my dad.
“You might be happy about my news, then. I can come out and see you in about two weeks—the week after this upcoming one—if that works for you. I don’t want to put you out.”
“Oh my God, Dad. You could never put me out. I’d love to see you!”
“It’ll be a short trip. I’d come in on the red-eye Thursday night and fly out again Sunday evening.”
“I’m stoked! Yay! I’ll make plans. We’ll have a blast.”
My dad’s soft chuckle sent warmth flowing through me. “I’m coming to see you, not New York. Don’t go crazy with any sightseeing or anything.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure we have lots of downtime. And you’ll get to meet Gideon.” Just the thought of the two of them together made my tummy flutter.
“Gideon Cross? You said nothing was going on there.”
“Yeah.” I wrinkled my nose. “We’d hit a rough spot at the time. I thought we were over.”
There was a pause. “Is it serious?”
I paused, too, shifting restlessly. My dad was a trained observer; he’d see right away that Gideon and I had tension between us—sexual and otherwise. “Yes. It’s not always easy. It’s a lot of work—I’m a lot of work—but we’re both making the effort.”
“Does he appreciate you, Eva?” My dad’s voice was gruff and far too serious. “I don’t care how much money he has; you don’t have anything to prove to him.”
“It’s not like that!” I stared at my wriggling pedicured toes and realized the meeting would be more complicated than just a protective father being introduced to his daughter’s new boyfriend. My dad had issues with rich men, thanks to my mom. “You’ll see how it is when you meet him.”
“All right.” Skepticism colored his voice.
“Really, Dad.” I couldn’t begrudge him his concern, since it’d been my self-destructive run with not-so-good-for-me guys that had led him to finding Dr. Travis. He’d especially had trouble with a lead singer for whom I’d been little more than a groupie and a tattoo artist whom my dad had pulled over to find him getting a blowjob while driving—and not from me. “Gideon’s good for me. He gets me.”
“I’ll keep an open mind, okay? And I’ll e-mail you a copy of my itinerary when I book the flight. How’s everything else going?”
“We just started working on a campaign for blueberry-flavored coffee.”
Another pause. “You’re kidding.”
I laughed. “If only. Wish us luck trying to sell that! I’ll be sure to stock some up for you to try.”
“I thought you loved me.”
“With all my heart. How’s your love life going? Did your date go well?”
“Yeah . . . it wasn’t bad.”
Snorting, I asked, “Are you going to see her again?”
“That’s the plan so far.”
“You’re a font of information, Dad.”
He chuckled again and I heard his favorite chair creak as he shifted. “You don’t really want to know about your old man’s love life.”
“True.” Although I did sometimes wonder what his relationship had been like with my mom. He’d been the Latino boy from the wrong side of the tracks and she’d been the golden debutante with dollar signs in her blue eyes. I figured it must’ve been pretty hot between them.
We talked for a few more minutes, both of us excited to see each other again. I’d hoped we wouldn’t drift apart after I moved away after college, which was why I’d made it a necessity to have a weekly catch-up call on Saturdays. Having him visit so soon helped to ease that worry.
I’d just hung up when Cary strolled in, looking every bit like the model he was.
“Still plotting?” he asked.
I stood. “All done. That was my dad. He’s coming out to New York next week.”
“Really? Rock on. Victor’s cool.”
We both moved into the kitchen, and he grabbed two beers out of the refrigerator. I’d noticed earlier that a number of items and products I used at home had been stocked in the suite. I wondered if Gideon was just that observant or if he’d found the information another way—like from looking at my receipts. I couldn’t put it past him. Recognizing the boundaries between us was very difficult for him, as evidenced by his siccing his guards on me.
“When’s the last time your parents were in the same state together?” Cary asked, prying the caps off the bottles with a bottle opener. “Let alone the same city.”
Ah, God . . . “I’m not sure. Before I was born?” I took a long pull on the beer he handed me. “I’m not planning on putting them together.”
“Here’s to best-laid plans.” He clinked the necks of our beers together. “Speaking of which, I was considering a quick bang with a chick I met at the pool, but I came up here instead. Figured you and I’d both go without today and just spend the time together.”
“I’m honored,” I said dryly. “I was going to come back down.”
“Too hot out. That sun is brutal.”
“Same sun we have in New York, isn’t it?”
“Smart-ass.” His green eyes sparkled. “How about we clean up and go out to lunch somewhere? My treat.”
“Sure. But I can’t say Sheila won’t insist on tagging along.”
“Fuck her and her boss. What is it with rich people and control issues?”
“They get rich because they take control.”
“Whatever. I prefer our kind of crazy—we pretty much only screw with ourselves.” He crossed one arm over his chest and leaned into the counter. “You gonna put up with his bullshit?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
I grinned and started backing out toward my bedroom. “Get ready. I’ll tell you about it over lunch.”
Chapter 6
I’d just barely finished repacking my bag for the trip home when I heard the unmistakable sound of Gideon’s voice in the living room. A rush of adrenaline pumped through my veins. Gideo
n had yet to say a word to me about what I’d done, even though we’d talked the night before after Cary and I had gotten back from clubbing and again this morning when I’d woken up.
Feigning ignorance was slightly nerve-racking. I’d wondered if Clancy had even managed to do what I had asked of him, but when I double-checked with my stepdad’s bodyguard, he assured me that all was going as I’d planned.
On bare feet, I padded over to the open door of my bedroom just in time to see Cary walk out the door of our suite. Gideon stood alone in the small foyer, his inscrutable gaze on me as if he’d expected me to appear at any moment. He wore loose-fitting jeans and a black T-shirt, and I’d missed the sight of him so much my eyes stung.
“Hi, angel.”
The fingers of my right hand toyed restlessly with the material of my black yoga pants. “Hi, ace.”
His beautifully etched lips thinned for a moment. “Is there a particular meaning behind that endearment?”
“Well . . . you ace everything you do. And it’s the nickname of a fictional character I have a crush on. You remind me of him sometimes.”
“I’m not sure I like you having a crush on anyone but me, fictional or not.”
“You’ll get over it.”
Shaking his head, he started toward me. “Like I’ll get over the sumo wrestler you have shadowing me?”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. I hadn’t been specific about appearance when I’d asked Clancy to arrange for someone he knew in the Phoenix area to guard Gideon the way Sheila was guarding me. I’d just asked for a man and provided a relatively small list of things to intercede with. “Where’s Cary going?”
“Downstairs to play with the credit I arranged for him.”
“We’re not leaving right away?”
He slowly closed the distance between us. There was no mistaking the danger inherent in the way he stalked me. It was visible in the set of his shoulders and the gleam in his eyes. I might’ve been more worried if the sinuousness of his stride hadn’t been so blatantly sexual. “You on your period?”
I nodded.
“Then I’ll just have to come in your mouth.”
My brows rose. “Is that right?”
“Oh, yeah.” His mouth curved. “Don’t worry, angel. I’ll take care of you first.”
He lunged and caught me up, surging into the bedroom and toppling us onto the bed. I gasped and his mouth was on mine, the kiss deep and ravenous. I was swept away by his passion and the beloved feel of his weight pressing me into the mattress. He smelled so good. His skin was so warm.
“I missed you,” I moaned, wrapping my arms and legs around him. “Even though you’re seriously irritating sometimes.”
Gideon growled. “You’re the most exasperating, infuriating woman I’ve ever met.”
“Yeah, well, you pissed me off. I’m not a possession. You can’t—”
“Yes, you are.” He nipped my earlobe with his teeth, causing a sharp sting that made me cry out. “And yes, I can.”
“Then you are, too. And I can, too.”
“So you demonstrated. Have any idea how difficult it is to do business with someone when they can’t get within three feet of you?”
I froze, because I’d made the three-feet rule applicable only to women. “Why would someone need to be that close to you?”
“To point out areas of interest on design schematics spread out in front of me and to fit alongside me within camera range for a teleconference—two things you made very difficult.” Lifting his head, he looked down at me. “I was working. You were playing.”
“I don’t care. If it’s good for me, it’s good for you.” But I was secretly pleased that Gideon had put up with the inconvenience, just as I had.
Reaching down, he caught me by the back of the thigh and yanked my legs wider apart. “You’re not going to get a hundred percent equality in this relationship.”
“The hell I’m not.”
His hips settled into the opening he’d made. He rocked against me, rubbing the thick ridge of his erection against my sex. “You’re not,” he repeated, his hands pushing into my hair to grip my scalp and hold me in place.
Rolling his hips, he massaged my hypersensitive clit. The seam of his jeans was in the perfect place to stir my ever-simmering lust for him. Arousal spiked in my blood. “Stop it. I can’t think when you do that.”
“Don’t think. Just listen, Eva. Who I am and what I’ve built makes me a target. You know the score, because you know what it’s like to live with wealth and the attention it attracts.”
“The guy at the bar wasn’t a threat.”
“That’s debatable.”
Irritation burned through me. It was the perceived lack of trust that bugged me, mostly because he didn’t trust me with whatever secrets he was keeping, and I was dealing with that. “Get off me.”
“I’m comfortable right here.” He hitched his hips, rubbing against me.
“I’m pissed at you.”
“I can tell.” He didn’t stop moving. “That won’t stop you from coming.”
I shoved at his hips, but he was too heavy to budge. “I can’t when I’m mad!”
“Prove it.”
He was way too smug, which made my anger swell. Since I couldn’t turn my head, I closed my eyes, shutting him out. He didn’t care. He kept on flexing against me. The clothes between us and the lack of penetration made me even more aware of the elegant fluidity of his body.
The man knew how to fuck.
Gideon didn’t just shove his big dick in and out of a woman. He worked her with it, exploiting friction, changing angles and depth of penetration. The nuances of his skill were lost when I was writhing beneath him and focused only on the sensations he stoked in my body. But I felt them all now.
I fought against the pleasure, but I couldn’t stifle a moan.
“That’s it, angel,” he coaxed. “Feel how hard I am for you? Feel what you do to me?”
“Don’t use sex to punish me,” I complained, my heels digging into the mattress.
He stilled for a moment, and then his mouth was suckling at my throat, his body undulating as if he were fucking me through our clothes. “I’m not mad, angel.”
“Whatever. You’re pushing me around.”
“And you’re driving me insane. You know what happened when I realized what you’d done?”
I glared at him through slitted eyes. “What?”
“I got hard.”
My eyes opened wide.
“Inconveniently and publicly.” He cupped my breast in his hand, his thumb stroking over the hardened point of my nipple. “I had to drag out a finished discussion while I waited for it to go down. It turns me on when you challenge me, Eva.” His voice lowered and became raspier, dripping with sex and sin. “It makes me want to fuck you. For a very, very long time.”
“God.” My hips pumped upward, my core tightening with the need to come.
“And since I can’t,” he purred, “I’m going to get you off like this, then watch you return the favor with your mouth.”
A whimper escaped me, my mouth watering at the promise of pleasing him that way. He was always so attuned to me when we made love. The only time he really let go and focused on his own pleasure was when I went down on him.
“That’s it,” he murmured, “keep rubbing your cunt against me like that. Christ, you’re so damn hot.”
“Gideon.” My hands were gliding all over his flexing back and buttocks, my body arching and grinding into his. I came with a long and drawn-out moan, the tension breaking in a rush of relief.
His mouth covered mine, drinking in the sounds I made as I shivered beneath him. I clutched his hair, kissing him back.
He rolled us so that he was beneath me, his hands going to his button fly and ripping it open. “Now, Eva.”
I scrambled down the bed, as eager to taste him as he was to have me do so. The moment he shoved his boxer briefs down, I had his penis in my hands, my l
ips flowing over the wide crest.
Groaning, Gideon grabbed a pillow and shoved it under his head. My gaze met his and I pulled him deeper.
“Yes,” he hissed, the fingers of his right hand tangling in my hair. “Suck it hard and fast; I want to come.”
I breathed in the scent of him, feeling the satiny softness of his heated flesh on my tongue. Then I took him at his word.
Hollowing my cheeks, I took him to the back of my throat, then pulled up to the crown. Over and over. Focusing on suction and speed, as greedy for his orgasm as he was, spurred by the abandoned sounds he made and the sight of his fingers clawing restlessly at the comforter. His hips churned, his hand in my hair guiding my pace.
“Ah, God.” He watched me with dark, hot eyes. “I love the way you suck me off. Like you can’t get enough.”
I couldn’t. I didn’t think I ever could. His pleasure meant so much to me, because it was real and raw. For him, sex had always been staged and methodical. He couldn’t hold back with me because he wanted me beyond reason. Two days without me and he was . . . undone.
I pumped him with my fist, feeling the thick veins throbbing beneath the smooth skin. A ragged sound tore from his throat and salty warmth spurted on my tongue. He was close, his face flushed and his lips parted with gasping breaths. Sweat misted my brow. My excitement mounted along with his. He was completely at my mercy, near mindless with the need to climax, muttering filthy sexy things about what he was going to do to me the next time he fucked me.
“That’s it, angel. Milk it . . . make me come for you.” His neck arched, his breath exploding from his lungs. “Fuck.”
He came as I had—hard and brutal. Semen burst from the tip of his cock in a thick, hot rush that I struggled to swallow. He growled my name, his hips pumping upward into my working mouth, taking what he needed from me, giving me all he had until he was emptied.
Then he curled toward me, pulling me into a strangling embrace that pinned me to his heaving chest. For long moments, he just held me. I listened as his raging heartbeat slowed and his breathing returned to normal.