One with You (Crossfire #5)(17)

I caught her by the elbow. Clearly Eva hadn’t considered that we’d be sharing a room and a bed, but that inevitability had never been far from my mind. “Thank you, Monica. We’ll see you later today.”

She laughed and cupped my face in her hands, kissing my cheek. “I’m so happy, Gideon. You’re just what Eva needs.”

I managed a smile, aware that her sentiments would change if she knew how dangerous it was for her daughter to share a bed with a man whose violent nightmares posed a serious risk of harm.

Eva and I started up the stairs.

“Gideon—”

I cut her off. “Where are we going?”

She glanced aside at me. “All the way up.”

Eva’s room was indeed at the top, taking up the entirety of what was once probably a large attic. The low-pitched gabled roof made for a comfortable ceiling height and would offer an impressive view of Long Island Sound during daylight.

The king-size bed sat in the middle of the room, facing the wall of windows. Its brass headboard formed a divider of sorts, with a couch placed against the back to anchor a small seating area. The en suite bathroom filled the other side of the space.

Eva faced me. “How is this going to work?”

“Let me worry about that.” I was used to worrying about sharing a bed with my wife; it was something I did daily. Of all the things that jeopardized our relationship, my atypical sexual parasomnia—as Dr. Petersen called it—topped the list. I had no defense against my fucked-up mind when I was sleeping. On rough nights, I was a physical danger to the one I loved most.

Eva crossed her arms. “Somehow, I don’t think you’re as invested in waiting till the wedding as I am.”

I stared at her, realizing we were thinking of two entirely different things. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Take me on the couch, you mean. You’ve—”

“I’ll fuck you there, given the chance,” I said tightly, “but I’m not sleeping with you.”

Her mouth opened to retort, then closed as comprehension hit her. “Oh.”

The entire mood changed. The challenge in her eyes and voice altered to subdued caution. It killed me to see it, to know that I could be the source of any unhappiness in her life.

Still, I was too selfish to walk away. One day her family would see that about me and hate me for it.

Aggravated, I looked for my duffel bag and found it atop a luggage rack by the bathroom. I went to it, needing to do something other than see Eva’s disillusionment and regret.

“I don’t want you sleeping on the couch,” she called after me.

“I wasn’t planning on sleeping.”

I grabbed my grooming kit and went into the bathroom. The lights came on as soon as I entered, revealing a pedestal sink and freestanding tub. I turned on the taps in the floating glass shower and took off my shirt.

The door opened and Eva stepped in. I glanced at her, pausing with my hand on the fly of my slacks.

Her hot gaze slid all over me, missing nothing, touching everything. She took a deep breath. “We have to talk.”

I was aroused by her admiration and furious with my own shortcomings; talking was the last thing I wanted to do. “Go to bed, Eva.”

“Not until I say what I have to say.”

“I’m taking a shower.”

“Fine.” She pulled her tank top up and over her head. Everything roiling inside me coalesced into a single driving need.

I straightened, every muscle tense and straining.

She reached behind her back to unsnap her bra.

My dick hardened painfully as her lush, firm tits bounced into view. I’d never been a breast man before Eva. Now …

God. They made me lose my mind.

“Talking isn’t what’s going to happen if you take your clothes off,” I warned, my cock throbbing.

“You’re going to hear me out, ace, whether it’s out here or in the shower. Your choice.”

“Tonight isn’t the night to push me.”

She dropped her shorts.

I had my pants opened and on the floor before she finished stepping out of the silky triangle she wore as underwear.

Despite the building humidity that fogged the room, her nipples tightened into hard points. Her gaze fell to my cock. As if she imagined tasting me, her tongue slid along her lower lip.

My hunger for her rumbled up from my chest in a near growl. Eva shivered at the sound. I wanted to touch her … to put my hands and mouth all over her …

Instead, I let her look her fill.

Her breathing picked up. Seeing the effect I had on her was painfully, undeniably erotic. What I felt when she looked at me … it moved me.

She remained by the door. Steam drifted over the top of the shower, encroaching on the edges of the mirror and misting my skin. Her eyes dropped to my throat. “I haven’t been completely honest with you, Gideon.”

My hands fisted reflexively. She couldn’t say those words to me and not redirect my attention. “What are you talking about?”

“Just now, when we were in the bedroom. I could sense you pulling away and there was this panic I felt …”

Eva fell silent for a long moment. I waited, reining my lust back with a deep breath.

“Holding off until the wedding … It’s not just about Dr. Petersen’s advice or the way you cope with fights.” She swallowed. “It’s about me, too. You know how I was—I told you. Sex was all twisted up for me for a long time.”

She shifted on her feet, shame bowing her head. It made me sick to see it. It struck me then that I’d been too wrapped up in my own reactions to the events of the last week without thinking about what my wife was going through.

“It was for me, too,” I reminded her gruffly. “But it’s never been that way between us.”

She caught my gaze. “No. Never.”

My clenched fists relaxed.

“But that doesn’t mean I can’t still twist things up in my head,” she went on. “You walked into the bathroom and my first thought was that I should fuck you. Like if we have sex, it’ll fix everything. You won’t be mad anymore and I’ll have your love again.”

“You always have it. You always will.”

“I know that.” And from the set of her jaw, I could see that she did. “But that didn’t stop the voice in my head from telling me I’m risking too much. That I’m going to lose you if I don’t put out. That you’re too sexual to go so long without it.”

“God.” How many times and ways could I fuck this up? “The way I talked to you on the beach … I’m an asshole, Eva.”

“Sometimes.” She smiled. “You’re also the best thing that’s ever happened to me. That voice has been screwing me up for years, but it doesn’t have the same power anymore. Because of you. You’ve made me stronger.”

“Eva.” Words failed me.

“I want you to think about that. Not your nightmares or my parents or anything else. You’re exactly what I need, just the way you are, and I love you so much.”

I walked toward her.

“I still want to wait,” she said quietly, even as her eyes betrayed how I affected her.

She grabbed my wrist when I reached for her, her gaze holding mine. “Let me do all the touching.”

I inhaled sharply. “I can’t agree to that.”

Her mouth curved. “Yes, you can. You’re stronger than I am, Gideon. You have more control. Greater willpower.”

Her other hand reached up to graze my chest. I caught it and pressed it against my skin. “Is that what you need me to prove? My control?”

“You’re doing fine.” She pressed a kiss over my pounding heart. “I’m the one who needs to figure things out.”

Her tone of voice was soft, almost crooning. I was raging inside, burning with lust and love, and she was trying to gentle me. I almost laughed at the impossibility of that.

Then she stepped into me, her plush body fitting tightly against mine, her arms hugging me so hard there wasn’t any space between us.

I crushed her close, my head bowing over hers. I didn’t know until that moment how badly I’d needed to feel her like that. Tender and accepting, bared in every way possible.

She leaned her cheek against my chest. “I love you so much,” she whispered. “Can you feel it?”

It overwhelmed me. Her love for me, my love for her. Every time she said the words, they hit me like blows.

“You said once,” she whispered, “that there’s a moment while we’re making love when I open and you open and we’re together. I want to give you that all the time, Gideon.”

The suggestion that there was something missing in what we had stiffened my spine. “Does it really matter how and when we feel it?”

“You could argue that.” Her head tilted back. “I won’t disagree. But if you’re on the other side of the world when you need reassurance from me, I need to know that I can give it to you.”

“You’ll be with me,” I muttered, frustrated.

“Not always.” Her hand cupped my cheek. “There will be times when you need to be in two places at once. Eventually, you’ll trust me to fill in for you.”

I studied her, looking for cracks in her resolve. What I saw was determination. I didn’t totally understand what she hoped to achieve, but I wasn’t getting in the way. If she was going to change or evolve, I needed to be part of that process if I expected to keep her.