Bared to You: A Crossfire Novel

I’m still thinking about you.

Gideon

“From Cross?” Cary asked.

“Yes.” My thumb brushed over what I assumed was his handwriting. It was bold and masculine and sexy. A romantic gesture for a guy who didn’t have romance in his repertoire. I dropped the card on the counter as if it’d burned me and fetched a mug of coffee, praying caffeine would give me strength and restore my common sense.

“You don’t seem impressed.” He lowered the volume on the footbal game he was watching.

“He’s bad news for me. He’s like one giant trigger. I just need to stay away from him.” Cary had been through therapy with me and he knew the dril . He didn’t look at me funny when I broke things down into therapeutic jargon, and he didn’t have any trouble shooting it back to me the same way.

“The phone’s been ringing al morning, too. I didn’t want it to disturb you, so I shut the volume off.” Aware of the lingering ache between my legs, I curled up on the couch and fought the compulsion to listen to our voice mail to see if Gideon had cal ed. I wanted to hear his voice, and an explanation that would make sense of what happened last night.

“Sounds good to me. Let’s leave it off al day.”

“What happened?”

I blew steam off the top of my mug and took a tentative sip. “I fucked his brains out in his limo and he turned arctic afterward.”

Cary watched me with those worldly emerald eyes, eyes that had seen more than anyone should be subjected to. “Rocked his world, did you?”

“Yeah, I did.” And I got riled up just thinking about it.

We’d connected. I knew it. I’d wanted him more than anything last night, and today I wanted nothing to do with him ever again. “It was intense. The best sexual experience of my life, and he was right there with me. I know he was. First time he’d ever made it in a car, and he was kind of resistant at first, but then I got him so hot for it he couldn’t say no.”

“Real y? Never?” He ran a hand over his morning stubble. “Most guys scratch car banging off their fuck list in high school. In fact, I can’t think of anyone who didn’t, except for the nerds and fuglies, and he’s neither.”

I shrugged. “I guess car banging makes me a slut.” Cary grew very stil . “Is that what he said?”

“No. He didn’t say shit. I got that from his ‘friend,’

Magdalene. You know that chick in most of the photos you printed off the Internet? She decided to sharpen her claws with a little catty girl chat in the bathroom.”

“The bitch is jealous.”

“Sexual frustration. She can’t fuck him, because apparently girls who fuck him go into the discard pile.”

“Did he say that?” Again, fury laced his quiet question.

“Not in so many words. He said he doesn’t sleep with his female friends. He’s got issues with women wanting more than a good time in the sack, so he keeps the women he bangs and the women he hangs out with in two separate camps.” I took another sip of my coffee. “I warned him that sort of setup wasn’t going to work for me and he said he’d make some adjustments, but I guess he’s one of those guys who’l say whatever’s necessary to get what he wants.”

“Or else you have him running scared.”

I glared. “Don’t make excuses for him. Whose side are you on, anyway?”

“Yours, baby girl.” He reached out and patted my knee. “Always yours.”

I wrapped my hand around his muscular forearm and stroked my fingers gently along the underside in silent gratitude. I couldn’t feel the multitude of fine white scars from cutting that marred his skin, but I never forgot they were there. I was thankful every day that he was alive, healthy, and a vital part of my life. “How’d your night go?”

“I can’t complain.” His eyes took on a mischievous

glint. “I shagged that busty blonde in a maintenance closet. Her tits were real.”

“Wel , then.” I smiled. “You made her night, I’m sure.”

“I try.” He picked up the phone receiver and winked at me. “What kind of delivery do you want? Subs?

Chinese? Indian?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re always hungry. If you don’t pick something, I’l cook and you’l have to eat that.” I lifted my hand in surrender. “Okay, okay. You pick.” I got to work twenty minutes early on Monday, figuring I’d skip running into Gideon. When I reached my desk without incident, I felt such relief that I knew I was in serious trouble where he was concerned. My moods were shifting al over the place.

Mark arrived in high spirits, stil floating from his major successes of the week before, and we dug right into work. I’d done some vodka market comparisons on Sunday and he was kind enough to go over those with me and listen to my impressions. Mark was also assigned the account for a new e-reader manufacturer, so we began the initial work on that.