was his, not mine.
As slowly as possible, I let go of the magic. It didn’t try to yank me into it this time, but instead it let go as slowly and breathlessly as I did. As I refocused my eyes, the lines of power dropped away from my sight. There was only Gideon, sitting in front of me, stroking the fabric of the couch.
He looked up at me, his face a study in astonishment.
“You didn’t think I could do it,” I said, breathing hard. Was I tired? I couldn’t tell; I was too high, too energized.
He shook his head, slowly, once. “No, I didn’t. I underestimated you.”
“But you said I was powerful.”
“Powerful and controlled are different. This wasn’t something you could brute force your way through.”
I laughed at the notion of me using brute force on anything, but then I remembered the way the convergence had felt. Pure potential flowing all around me. Yes, I could see how brute force might be the right term. It might kill me if I didn’t know what I was doing. It would definitely drag me in, like part of me was still terrified it wanted to do, but I thought maybe I knew how to deal with that now. It was like one of those old finger-trap puzzles. The harder you pulled away, the tighter it clung and held.
Slow and meticulous, that was the way it had to be handled.
No wonder it liked Gideon so much. It practically was Gideon.
Also, it was time for me to get a little more slow and meticulous into my life.
I pushed myself up, slightly unsteady on my feet, panting for breath, and Gideon met me halfway. Unlike usual, he didn’t go slow and patient with me. He wrapped one firm hand around my waist and yanked me tight against him, lowering his mouth to take mine.
He didn’t wait for me to bend to him, just thrust his tongue between my lips and took what he wanted.
Not that I held out.
I melted against him, winding my arms around his neck and hanging there, letting him support us both. Gods, he was like a fucking rock—all my weight hanging on him and he didn’t budge, just tipped my head back and took more of my mouth, deepening the kiss.
With the arm around my waist, he lifted me a few inches off the floor and walked us toward the bedroom, without lifting his mouth from mine.
He kissed me all the way down the hallway, past a suddenly disinterested Fluke, past the bathroom, and into the bedroom, where he wrapped both hands around my hips and set me down on the bed.
I’d half expected to be tossed like a rag doll, but no, suddenly he was soft and sweet. He slid his hands under my T-shirt, urging my arms up and pulling it over my head, the tips of his fingers brushing against my skin and setting my nerves on fire. Then he planted a hand in the middle of my chest and pushed me flat, leaning over my prone form and sliding my pants down my hips with just as much ease.
Suddenly, I was naked, and under a fully dressed man.
How was that so hot?
Gideon pushed my legs apart, stepping into the space between them and reaching out to run one huge hand down my cheek, dragging the thumb over my lips. He pressed his thumb past my lips, pushing against my tongue, so I wrapped my lips around it and gave it a suck. He watched me for a moment, dark eyes taking in my absolute wantonness, then slid his thumb out and over my bottom lip again.
“Gideon,” I whispered.
For some reason, he took his hands off me.
Dammit, that was unacceptable even if he was using them to strip himself, dropping his coat on the floor and tossing his gun belt on my dresser behind him.
His chest was just as broad without the muslin shirt, but not in that sculpted gym body way, in a way that spoke of hard work. He had a silvery scar across one side, and a smattering of chest hair that was just as bright gold brown as the hair on his head, trailing down his flat belly into the vee made by his cut hips, pooling and darkening in his groin, framing his long, beautiful cock.
The boots had not lied.
This, I thought, was the kind of body that should be immortalized in art. Beauty incarnate, strong and gorgeous and just that tiniest bit