by Sylvia Day
Guilt swamped me, and a terrible urge to cry. My hand shook as I ran a wide-toothed comb through my damp hair. The bathroom had been stocked with my usual toiletries, demonstrating once again how thoughtful and attentive Gideon was, which only emphasized my deficits. I was making his life hell. After all he’d already suffered, my issues were the last thing he needed to deal with.
I took the stairs down to the first floor and found myself unable to join Gideon in the kitchen. I needed a minute to pull myself together and put on a happy face. I didn’t want to ruin the weekend for him, too.
I stepped out through the French doors that led to the deck. The roar of the surf and the biting salt spray hit me at once. The hem of my robe whipped gently in the ocean breeze, cooling me in a way I found invigorating.
Taking a deep breath, I gripped the railing and closed my eyes, trying to find the peace I needed to keep Gideon from worrying. My problem was me, and I didn’t want to concern him with something he couldn’t change. Only I could make myself a stronger person, and I needed to, if I wanted to make him happy and offer him the security he so desperately wanted from me.
The door opened behind me, and I took a deep breath before turning to face him with a smile. Gideon came out with two steaming mugs gripped in one hand—one filled with black coffee and the other lightened with half-and-half. I knew it would be made perfectly to my tastes and delicious, because Gideon knew exactly what I liked. Not because I’d told him, but because he paid attention to everything about me.
“Stop beating yourself up,” he ordered sternly, setting the mugs on the railing.
I sighed. Of course I couldn’t hide my mood from him with just a smile. He saw right through me.
He caught my face in his hands and glared down at me. “It’s over and done with. Forget it.”
I reached out and ran my fingertips over the place where I’d seen the bruise.
“It needed to happen,” he said curtly. “No. Shut up and listen to me. I thought I understood your feelings about Corinne, and, frankly, I thought you just weren’t dealing with it well. But I had no clue. I was a self-centered idiot.”
“I’m not dealing with it well. I hate her fucking guts. I can’t think about her without feeling violent.”
“I get it now. I didn’t before.” His mouth twisted ruefully. “Sometimes it takes something drastic to shake me up. Luckily, you’ve always been very good at getting my attention.”
“Don’t try to tease this away, Gideon. You could’ve been seriously hurt because of me.”
He caught me by the waist when I would’ve turned away. “I was seriously hurt because of you. Seeing you in another guy’s arms, kissing him . . .” His eyes grew hot and dark. “It shredded me, Eva. Cut me open and left me bleeding. I kicked his ass in self-defense.”
“Oh, God,” I breathed, devastated by his brutal honesty. “Gideon.”
“I’m disgusted with myself for not being more understanding about Corinne. If a kiss could make me feel like that . . .” He wrapped his arms tight around me, one arm banding my hips while the other crossed my back so he could grip the back of my head. Capturing me.
“If you ever cheated on me,” he said hoarsely, “it would kill me.”
Turning my head, I pressed my lips to his throat. “That stupid kiss meant nothing. Less than nothing.”
His hand gripped my hair and tilted my head back. “You don’t understand what your kisses mean to me, Eva. For you to just give one away and call it stupid—”
Gideon dipped his head and sealed his mouth over mine. It started softly, sweet and teasing, his tongue stroking across my bottom lip. I opened my mouth, my tongue flicking out to touch his. He tilted his head and licked into my mouth. Fast, shallow licks that stirred a simmering desire.
I reached up and slid my fingers into his damp hair, pushing up onto my tiptoes to deepen the kiss. I moaned when he sucked on my tongue, leaning heavily against him. His lips moved against mine, growing wetter and hotter. We ate at each other, growing wilder by the second until we were fucking each other’s mouths, passionately mating with lips and tongues and tiny bites. I was panting with my hunger for him, my lips slanting over his, needy sounds spilling from my throat.
His kisses were gifts. He kissed with everything he had, with power and passion and hunger and love. He held nothing back, giving everything, exposing everything.
Tension gripped his powerful frame, his rough satin skin growing feverishly hot. His tongue was plunging into my mouth, tangling with mine, his quickened breaths mingling with my own and filling my lungs. My senses were drenched in him, in his flavor and scent, my mind spinning as I angled my head, seeking a deeper taste. Wanting to lick deeper, suck harder. Devour.
I wanted him so much.
His hands ran up and down my spine, trembling and restless. He groaned and my sex tightened in answer. Tugging at the belt of my robe, he loosened it, spreading open the halves to grip my bare hips in his hands. He tugged on my lower lip, sinking his teeth into it, his tongue caressing it. I whimpered, wanting more, my mouth feeling swollen and sensitive.
No matter how close we were, it was never close enough.
Gideon gripped both cheeks of my ass and pulled me up hard against him, his erection like hot steel burning my belly through the thin silk of his pants. He released my lip and took my mouth again, filling me with the taste of his desire and need, his tongue a velvet lash of tormenting pleasure.
A hard shudder shook him and he growled, his hips circling. His fingers bit into my rear and his groan vibrated against my lips. I felt his cock jerk between us, then scorching warmth spread over my skin. He came with a tormented groan, soaking the silk between us.
I cried out, melting and aching, so insanely aroused by the knowledge that I could make him lose control with just a kiss.
His grip loosened, his lungs heaving. “Your kisses are mine.”
“Yes. Gideon . . .” I was shaken, left emotionally raw and open by the most erotic moment of my life.
He sank to his knees and tongued me to a shattering climax.
* * *
We showered and napped the morning away. It felt so good to sleep beside him again, with my head pillowed on his chest, my arm draped over his rock-hard stomach, and my legs tangled with his.
When we woke shortly after one in the afternoon, I was starving. We headed down to the kitchen together and I found that I liked the ultra-stark modern look in that space. The watered-glass cabinet doors and granite paired beautifully with the dark hardwood. Better yet, the pantry was fully stocked. There was no need to leave the house for anything.
We went the easy route and made sandwiches, which we took into the living room and ate cross-legged on the couch facing each other.
I was halfway through when I caught Gideon watching me with a grin.
“What?” I asked, around a bite.
“Arnoldo’s right. It’s fun watching you eat.”
“Shut up.”
His grin widened. He looked so carefree and happy it made my heart hurt.
“How did you find this place?” I asked him. “Or how did Scott find it?”
“I found it.” He shoved a potato chip in his mouth and licked the salt from his lips, which I found sexy as hell. “I wanted to take you away to an island, where no one could bother us. This is pretty close to that, without the travel time. I planned for us to fly down originally.”
I ate thoughtfully, remembering the long drive. As insanity-inducing as the trip had been, there was something exciting about the idea of him rearranging our schedule just to fuck me senseless over hours, using my need for him to face a truth I’d blocked. Imagining all the frustration and fury that must have driven his plans . . . his thoughts focused on unleashing all of that seething passion on my helpless, willing body . . .
“You’re getting that fuck-me look on your face,” he observed. “And you call me a sex fiend.”
“Sorry.”
“Not complaining.”
I rewound my thoughts to earlier in the evening. “Arnoldo doesn’t like me anymore.”
One dark brow arched. “You’re getting the fuck-me look and thinking about Arnoldo? Do I have to kick his ass now, too?”
“No. Jeez. I threw that out there to distract us from sex and because it needs to be addressed.”
He shrugged. “I’ll talk to him.”
“I think I should do it, for what it’s worth.”
Gideon studied me with those amazing blue eyes. “What would you say?”
“That he’s right. I don’t deserve you and I fucked up bad. But I’m crazy in love with you and I’d like a chance to prove to you both that I can be what you need.”
“Angel, if I needed you more, I couldn’t function.” He lifted my hand to his lips to kiss my fingertips. “And I don’t care what anyone else thinks. We’ve got our own rhythm and it works for us.”
“Does it work for you?” I grabbed my bottle of iced tea off the coffee table and took a drink. “I know it drains you. Do you ever think it’s just too hard or too painful?”
“You do realize how suggestive that sounds, right?”
“Oh my God.” I laughed. “You’re terrible.”
His eyes sparkled with amusement. “That’s not what you usually say.”
Shaking my head, I went back to eating.
“I’d rather argue with you, angel, than laugh with anyone else.”
Jesus. It took me a minute to be able to swallow the last bite in my mouth. “You know . . . I love you madly.”
He smiled. “Yes, I know.”
* * *
After we’d cleaned up the mess from lunch, I tossed the sponge into the sink and said, “I need to make my Saturday phone call to my dad.”
Gideon shook his head. “Not possible. You’ll have to wait ’til Monday.”
“Huh? Why?”
He caged me to the counter by gripping the edge on either side of me. “No phones.”
“Are you serious? What about your cell phone?” I’d left mine at home before we went to the concert, knowing I had no place to carry it and having no intention of using it anyway.
“It’s heading back to New York with the limo. No Internet, either. I had the modem and phones taken out before we got here.”
I was speechless. With all the responsibilities and commitments he had, cutting himself off for the weekend was . . . unbelievable. “Wow. When’s the last time you fell off the face of the earth like this?”
“Hmm . . . that would be never.”
“There have to be at least a half dozen people freaking out because they can’t run something by you.”
He lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. “They’ll deal with it.”
Pleasure surged through me. “I have you all to myself?”
“Completely.” His mouth curved in a wicked smile. “What will you do with me, angel?”
I smiled back, ecstatically happy. “I’m sure I’ll think of something.”
* * *
We went for a walk on the beach.
I rolled up a pair of Gideon’s pajama bottoms and put on my white tank top, which was indecent since my bra was heading back to New York along with Gideon’s cell phone.
“I have died and gone to heaven,” he pronounced, checking out my chest as we strolled along the shore, “where the embodiment of every wet-dream, spank-bank fantasy of my adolescence is real and totally mine.”
I bumped my shoulder into his. “How do you go from devastatingly romantic to crude in the space of an hour?”
“It’s another one of my many talents.” His gaze dropped again to the prominent points of my nipples, which were hard from exposure to the ocean breeze. He squeezed my hand and gave an exaggerated happy sigh. “Heaven with my angel. It doesn’t get any better than this.”
I had to agree. The beach was beautiful in a moody, untamed way that reminded me a lot of the man whose hand I held. The sounds of the surf and the crying of the gulls filled me with a unique sense of contentment. The water was cold on my bare feet, and the wind whipped my hair across my face. It had been a long time since I’d felt so good, and I was grateful to Gideon for giving us this time away to enjoy each other. We were perfect together when we were alone.
“You like it here,” he noted.
“I’ve always loved being close to the water. My mother’s second husband had a lake house. I remember walking along the shore like this with her and thinking I’d buy something on the water for myself one day.”
He released my hand and draped his arm around my shoulders instead. “So let’s do it. How about this place? You like it?”
I glanced up at him, loving the sight of the wind sifting through his hair. “Is it for sale?”
He looked down the stretch of beach in front of us. “Everything’s for sale at the right price.”
“Do you like it?”
“The interior’s a little cold with all that white, although I like the master bedroom the way it is. We could change all the rest. Make it more us.”
“Us,” I repeated, wondering what that would be. I loved his apartment with its old world elegance. I think he felt comfortable at my place, which was more modern traditional. Combining the two . . . “Big step, buying a property together.”
“Inevitable step,” he corrected. “You told Dr. Petersen failure isn’t an option.”
“Yep, I did.” We walked a little farther in silence. I tried to figure out how I felt about Gideon wanting to have a more tangible tie between us. I also wondered why he’d choose joint property ownership as the way to achieve it. “So I take it you like it here, too?”
“I like the beach.” He brushed his hair back from his face. “There’s a picture of me and my father building a sand castle on a beach.”
It was a miracle my steps didn’t falter. Gideon volunteered so little information about his past that when he did, it was nearly an earthshaking event. “I’d like to see it.”
“My mother has it.” We took a few more steps before he said, “I’ll get it for you.”
“I’ll go with you.” He hadn’t told me why yet, but he’d told me once that the Vidal home was a nightmare for him. I suspected that whatever was at the root of his parasomnia had taken place there.
Gideon’s chest expanded on a deep breath. “I can have it couriered.”
“All right.” I turned my head to kiss his bruised knuckles where they rested on my shoulder. “But my offer stands.”
“What did you think of my mother?” he asked suddenly.
“She’s very beautiful. Very elegant. She seemed gracious.” I studied him, seeing Elizabeth Vidal’s inky black hair and stunning blue eyes. “She also seems to love you a lot. It was in her eyes when she looked at you.”
He kept looking straight ahead. “She didn’t love me enough.”
My breath left me in a rush. Because I didn’t know what had given him such tormenting nightmares, I’d wondered if maybe she’d loved him too much. It was a relief to know that wasn’t the case. It was awful enough that his father committed suicide. To be betrayed by his mother, too, might be more than he could ever recover from.
“How much is enough, Gideon?”
His jaw tightened. His chest expanded on a deep breath. “She didn’t believe me.”
I came to a dead stop and pivoted to face him. “You told her what happened to you? You told her and she didn’t believe you?”
His gaze was trained over my head. “It doesn’t matter now. It’s long done.”
“Bullshit. It matters. It matters a lot.” I was furious for him. Furious that a mother hadn’t done her job and stood by her child. Furious that the child had been Gideon. “I bet it hurts like fucking hell, too.”
His gaze lowered to my face. “Look at you, so pissed off and upset. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“You should’ve said something earlier.”
The tension in his shoulders eased and his mouth curved ruefully. �
��I haven’t told you anything.”
“Gideon—”
“And of course you believe me, angel. You’ve had to sleep in a bed with me.”
I grabbed his face in my hands and stared hard up into his eyes. “I. Believe. You.”
His face contorted with pain for a split second before he picked me up in a bear hug. “Eva.”
I slung my legs around his waist and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “I believe you.”
* * *
When we got back to the house, Gideon went into the kitchen to open a bottle of wine and I perused the bookshelves in the living room, smiling when I came across the first book in the series I’d told him about, the one where’d I’d picked up his nickname, ace.
We sprawled on the couch and I read to him while he played absently with my hair. He was in a pensive mood after our walk, his mind seemingly far from me. I didn’t resent that. We’d given each other a lot to think about over the last couple of days.
When the tide came in, it did indeed rush up under the house, which sounded amazing and looked even more so. We stepped out onto the deck and watched it ebb and flow, turning the house into an island in the surf.
“Let’s make s’mores,” I said, while leaning over the railing with Gideon wrapped around my back. “On that portable patio fireplace.”
His teeth caught my earlobe and he whispered, “I want to lick melted chocolate off your body.”
Yes, please . . . I teased him, “Wouldn’t that burn?”
“Not if I do it right.”
I turned to face him, and he picked me up and sat me on the wide handrail. Then he stepped between my legs and hugged me around the hips. There was a wonderful peace that accompanied the twilight and we both sank into it. I ran my hands through his hair, just as the night breeze did.
“Have you talked to Ireland at all?” I asked, thinking of his half sister who was as beautiful as their mother. I’d met her at a Vidal Records party, and it became evident pretty quickly that she was hungry for any word or news about her eldest brother.
“No.”
“What do you think about bringing her over for dinner when my dad’s in town?”