Wrapping a towel around me, I left the bathroom—
Gideon stood just inside my closed bedroom door. The sight of him spurred a reaction so abrupt it was like a physical blow. My breath caught and my heart lurched into an excited rhythm, my entire being responding to the sight of him with a potent rush of yearning. It felt like years since I’d last been with him, instead of a mere hour.
I’d given him a key, but he owned the building. Getting to me without leaving a trail that could be followed was possible with that advantage … just as he’d been able to get to Nathan.
“It’s dangerous for you to be here,” I pointed out. That didn’t stop me from being thrilled that he was. My gaze drank him in, roaming avidly over his lean, broad-shouldered frame.
He wore black sweats and a well-loved Columbia sweatshirt, a combination that made him look like the twenty-eight-year-old man he was and not the billionaire mogul the rest of the world knew. A Yankees ball cap was pulled low over his brow, but the shadow cast by its brim did nothing to diminish the striking blue of his eyes. They stared at me fiercely, his sensual lips drawn into a grim line. “I couldn’t stay away.”
Gideon Cross was an impossibly gorgeous man, so beautiful that people stopped and stared when he walked by. I’d once thought of him as a sex god, and his frequent—and enthusiastic—displays of prowess constantly proved me right, but I also knew he was all too human. Like me, he’d been broken.
The odds were against our making it.
My chest expanded on a deep breath, my body responding to the proximity of his. Even though he stood several feet away, I could feel the heady attraction, the magnetic pull of being near the other half of my soul. It’d been that way with us from the very first meeting, both of us inexorably drawn together. We’d mistaken our ferocious mutual captivation for lust until we realized we couldn’t breathe without each other.
I fought the urge to run into his arms, the place where I so desperately wanted to be. But he was too still, too tightly reined. I waited in exquisite anticipation for his cue.
God, I loved him so much.
His hands fisted at his sides. “I need you.”
My core tightened in response to the roughness of his voice, the rasp of it warm and luxurious.
“You don’t have to sound so happy about it,” I teased breathlessly, trying to lighten his mood before he got me beneath him.
I loved him wild, and I loved him tender. I’d take him any way I could get him, but it’d been so long … My skin was already tingling and tightening expectantly, craving the greedy reverence of his touch. I feared what would happen if he came at me full force when I was so starved for his body. We might tear each other apart.
“It’s killing me,” he said gruffly. “Being without you. Missing you. I feel like my f**king sanity depends on you, Eva, and you want me to be happy about that?”
My tongue darted out to wet my dry lips and he growled, sending a shiver through me. “Well … I’m happy about it.”
The tension in his posture visibly eased. He must’ve been so worried about how I would react to what he’d done for me. To be honest, I’d been worried. Did my gratitude mean I was more twisted than I realized?
Then I remembered my stepbrother’s hands all over me … his weight pressing me into the mattress … the tearing pain between my legs as he rammed into me over and over …
I trembled with renewed fury. If being glad the f**ker was dead made me twisted, so be it.
Gideon took a deep breath. His hand reached up to his chest and rubbed at the area over his heart as if it hurt him.
“I love you,” I told him, my eyes stinging with fresh tears. “I love you so much.”
“Angel.” He reached me with quick strides, dropping his keys on the floor and shoving both hands into my damp hair. He was shaking, and I cried, overwhelmed by the knowledge of how much he needed me.
Tilting my head to the angle he wanted, Gideon took my mouth with searing possession, tasting me with slow, deep licks. His passion and hunger exploded across my senses, and I whimpered, my hands tangling in his sweatshirt. His answering groan vibrated through me, tightening my ni**les and sending goose bumps racing across my skin.
I melted into him, my hands pushing the cap from his head so that my fingers could sink into the silky black mane of his hair. I fell into the kiss, swept away by the lush carnality of it. A sob escaped me.
“Don’t,” he breathed, pulling back to cradle my jaw. He looked into my eyes. “It shreds me when you cry.”
“It’s too much.” I trembled.
His beautiful eyes looked as weary as mine. He nodded grimly. “What I did—”
“Not that. How I feel about you.”
He rubbed the tip of his nose against me, his hands sliding reverently along my bare arms—hands with proverbial blood on them, which only made me love his touch all the more.
“Thank you,” I whispered.