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One with You (Crossfire #5)(38)

By:Sylvia Day


How could he possibly be unaffected by that?

Cary laughed. “You look ready to murder someone.”

“You’re closest,” I warned him.

“You can’t kill me. Who else will pack just the right outfits for you to make Gideon as jealous as you are?”

“Sounds like I came home at just the right time.”

Cary and I both looked over at the front door and found Gideon coming in with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a pet carrier dangling from his hand.

My scowl was chased away by the delight that ran through me at the sight of him. I couldn’t say how he did it, but Gideon made even sweats and a T-shirt look insanely hot.

He set his stuff down on the floor.

“What have you got there?” Cary climbed to his feet and walked over to the carrier.

I stood and went to my husband, thrilled with the simple joy of welcoming him home. He met me halfway, his arms coming around me. I pushed my hands up beneath the back of his shirt, caressing the warm, hard muscle. As he bent to kiss me, I tilted my head back. His lips brushed mine, then settled in for a soft, wordless hello.

As he straightened, he licked his lips. “You taste like wine.”

“Would you like some?”

“Absolutely.”

I headed into the kitchen to grab another glass. Behind me, I heard the guys greet each other, and then Gideon introduced Lucky to Cary. Happy barking and Cary’s rich laugh filtered through the air.

I hadn’t moved in yet, but it felt like home.




Cary had been gone an hour before I worked up the nerve to ask Gideon the burning question on my mind.

We were sitting on the couch. He slouched comfortably, knees wide, one arm slung over my shoulder, one hand lying casually on his thigh. I was curled against his side, my legs pulled up, my head on his shoulder, my fingers toying with the hem of his T-shirt. Lucky slept in the playpen by the unlighted fireplace, occasionally whimpering as he dreamed about whatever it was that dogs dreamed about.

Gideon had been quiet for the last thirty minutes, almost contemplative, as I discussed the merits of the wedding dress sketch he’d picked up from the coffee table.

“Anyway,” I said, finishing, “I feel like I’ll know it when I see it, but I’m running out of time. I’m trying not to panic about it. I just don’t want to settle.”

His hand lifted from my shoulder and cupped the back of my head. His lips pressed against my forehead. “You could wear jeans, angel, and be the most beautiful bride ever.”

Touched, I snuggled closer. I inhaled deeply, then asked, “Where in Brazil are you going?”

Gideon’s fingers sifted through my hair. “Rio.”

“Oh.” I could picture him lazing on the white sand shore of Copacabana, his magnificent sun-bronzed body on display, the brilliant blue of his eyes shielded behind dark sunglasses.

The lovely women on the beach wouldn’t be able to tell if he was watching them or not. That would excite them, make them bold.

At night, he and the guys would take in the nightlife in Ipanema or maybe they’d be true hedonists and head to Lapa. Anywhere they went, stunning, passionate, scantily clad women would follow. It was inevitable.

“I heard Cary say you’re jealous,” he murmured, nuzzling the crown of my head. There was a smug note of satisfaction in his voice.

“Is that why you picked Brazil? So I’d suffer?”

“Angel.” His grip on my hair tightened, gently urging my head back to look at him. “I had nothing to do with the selection of the destination.” His lips tilted up in a sexy smile. “But I’m glad you’ll suffer.”

“Sadist.” I pulled away from him.

Gideon wouldn’t let me get far, tugging me back. “After your suggestion about Deanna, I was beginning to think you were getting bored with me.”

“That’s hysterical.”

“Not to me,” he said evenly. His gaze searched my face.

Realizing he was at least partly serious, I stopped trying to get away. “I told you I didn’t like the idea of you hiring her.”

“Not right away you didn’t. You recommended I seduce her like you’d tell me to pick up a bottle of wine on the way home from work. At least when I mentioned Rio, you tensed up and sulked about it.”

“There’s a difference—”

“Between actively seducing a woman I’ve fucked before and agreeing to a bachelor party I didn’t plan? Absolutely. And it makes no sense why you’d be okay with the first one and have a problem with the second one.”

I glared. “Because one is a business transaction in a controlled environment. The other is a last hurrah for sport fucking in the one of the sexiest cities in the world!”

“You know better.” His voice was low and smooth, easy. Which meant it was dangerous.

“I’m not worried about you,” I stressed. “It’s the women who’ll want you. And your friends, who’ll get drunk and horny and want you to play, too.”

His face was impassive, his gaze cool. “And you think I’m not strong enough to handle the peer pressure?”

“I didn’t say that. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“I’m just trying to clarify your convoluted thinking.”

“Look. Let’s get back to the Deanna scenario.” I wriggled away and stood. Facing the coffee table, I stretched out my hands, directing. “This is how I pictured it before I made the suggestion. You in your office, leaning back against your desk in that way you do that’s sexy as hell. Jacket on the coatrack, maybe a scotch on the rocks next to your hand for an informal touch.”

I faced the couch. “Deanna’s in the chair farthest from you, so she can get the full picture. You give her a slow once-over, say a few double entendres about getting things done together. She gets ideas and seals the deal with a signature on the dotted line. That’s it. You never get closer than a few feet from her and you never sit down. The glass wall stays clear, so she won’t make a move.”

“You imagined all this in a split second?”

“Well”—I tapped my temple—“I have some memories rattling around up here that fueled the fire.”

“My memories of seduction in my office don’t include anyone else,” he said dryly.

“Listen, ace.” I sat on the coffee table. “It was a spontaneous thought that came to me because I was worried about you.”

Gideon’s face softened. “Angels rush in. I get it.”

“Do you?” Leaning forward, I put my hands on his knees. “I’m always going to be possessive, Gideon. You’re mine. I wish I could put a sign on you that says it.”

He held up his left hand, showing off his wedding band.

I scoffed. “You know how many women are going to pay attention to that when you’re trolling through Rio with your crew?”

“They’ll pay attention when I point it out.”

“Then one of the guys will let slip that it’s a bachelor party and they’ll just try harder.”

“Trying won’t get them anywhere.”

My gaze ran over him. “You’ll be irresistible in graphite gray dress slacks and a black V-neck shirt—”

“You’re remembering that night at the club.”

He obviously did, too. His cock thickened and lengthened, tenting his sweatpants obscenely.

I almost moaned as his arousal proved what I’d suspected: He was commando beneath the soft cotton.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you after you left my office,” he murmured. “Couldn’t get the vision of you out of my mind. Then I called you at work and you taunted me, telling me you were going home to play with your vibrator when my cock was hard and ready for you.”

I squirmed, recalling every detail. He had been wearing a V-neck sweater that night in New York, but what I imagined him wearing in Rio made allowances for the tropical climate and the steamy press of bodies in a nightclub.

“In my mind, I saw you on your bed,” he went on, reaching between his legs to stroke his erection through his pants. “Your legs spread. Your back arching. Your body naked and shiny with sweat as you pushed a thick plastic cock in and out of your creamy cunt. I was half crazed with the idea of it. I’d never felt lust like that. It felt like I was in heat. The need to fuck was a fever inside me.”

“God, Gideon.” My sex ached. My breasts felt swollen and tender, the nipples tight and sore.

He watched me, his eyes hooded. “I went out before I arranged to meet you. I was going to find someone who wouldn’t say no like you did. I was going to take her to the hotel, spread her out, fuck her until the madness went away. Who she was didn’t matter. She was going to be faceless, nameless. I wasn’t going to look at her while I was inside her. She was just a stand-in for you.”

A low sound of pain left me, the thought of him with someone else in that way too agonizing to bear.

“I got close a couple times.” His voice was hoarser now. “Had a drink while I waited for each one to finish flirting and signal they were ready to leave. I figured I backed off the first time because she just wasn’t doing it for me. The second time, I knew no one would do it for me. No one but you. I was furious. At you for denying me. At them for being inferior. At me for being too weak to forget you.”