My hand clenched around a fistful of his sweater. “You’re wearing my favorite sweater.”
“I know.” Abruptly, he sank into a graceful crouch, taking my hand that he held and placing it on his shoulder. “Let’s make you comfortable, angel. You won’t need these heels until you’re ready for me to f**k you.”
My core clenched with anticipation. “What if I’m ready now?”
“You’re not. You’ll know when the time comes.”
As Gideon removed my shoes, I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “Will I? How?”
He glanced up at me with those intensely blue eyes. He was nearly on his knees, taking my shoes off, yet he was undeniably in command of himself and of me. “I’ll be pushing my c*ck inside you.”
I shifted on my feet for a different reason. Yes, please …
Straightening, he once again loomed over me. His fingertips drifted across my cheek. “What’s in the bag?”
“Oh.” I mentally shook off the sexual spell he had me under. “Housewarming gift.”
I looked around. The space was a mirror image of my own. The apartment was lovely and comfortably inviting. I’d partly expected a semi-lived-in space, mostly bare with only the essentials. Instead, it was very much a home. One that was lit only by candlelight, which cast a warm golden glow on furniture I recognized because it was Gideon’s and mine.
Stunned, I barely noticed when he took the gift bag and my purse from my fingers. Barefoot, I skirted him, seeing my coffee and end tables placed around his sofa and side chairs; my entertainment center holding his knickknacks and framed photos of the two of us together; my drapes with his unlit floor and table lamps.
On the wall, where my flat-screen TV would be hanging, was a massive photo of me blowing him a kiss, a much larger version of the photo I’d given him that he kept on his desk in his Crossfire office.
I turned slowly, trying to take it all in. He’d shocked me like this once before, when he’d re-created my bedroom in his penthouse, giving me a familiar place to run when things got too intense.
“When did you move in here?” I loved it. The mix of my modern traditional with his old-world elegance was oddly perfect. He’d blended just the right pieces to create a space that was … us.
“The week Cary was in the hospital.”
I glanced at him. “Are you serious?”
That was when Gideon had begun pulling away from me, cutting me off. He’d started hanging out with Corinne again and become difficult to reach.
Getting this place set up must have kept him busy, too.
“I needed to be near you,” he said absently, looking into the bag. “I had to be sure I could get to you quickly. Before Nathan could.”
Shock rippled through me. At a time when I’d felt Gideon drifting further and further away from me, he’d been physically close. Watching over me. “When I called you from the hospital”—I swallowed past a dry lump—“you had someone with you …”
“Raúl. He was coordinating the move-in. I had to get it done before you and Cary came home.” He looked up at me. “Towels, angel?” he asked, with more than a hint of amusement.
He pulled the white hand towels embroidered with CROSSTRAINER out of the bag. I’d picked them up at the gym. At the time, I’d been envisioning him having a bare bones bachelor pad. Now, they were ridiculous.
“I’m sorry,” I said, still reeling from his disclosure about the apartment. “I had a different idea of what this place looked like.”
He pulled the towels away when I reached for them. “Your gifts are always thoughtful. Tell me what you were thinking about when you bought these.”
“I was thinking about making you think about me.”
“Every minute of every day,” he murmured.
“Let me clarify: Me—all hot and sweaty and desperate for you.”
“Umm … a fantasy I indulge in often.”
Abruptly, the memory of Gideon pleasuring himself in my shower punched into my mind. There really were no words for how f**king amazing that sight was. “Do you think about me when you get yourself off?”
“I don’t masturbate.”