Bared to You: A Crossfire Novel

“I stand corrected.” I smiled back. “Several hundred steps up.”

I showered and dressed in the oversized Cross Industries shirt he laid out for me; then I cal ed Cary to tel him I’d be out al night and give him a brief rundown about the hotel incident.

He whistled. “I’m not even sure what to say about that.”

A speechless Cary Taylor spoke volumes.

I joined Gideon in the living room, and we sat on the floor at the coffee table to eat the prized caviar with mini toast and crème fraiche. We watched a rerun of a New York-set police procedural that just happened to include a scene filmed on the street in front of the Crossfire.

“I think it’d be cool to see a building I owned on TV

like that,” I said.

“It’s not bad, if they don’t close off the street for hours to film.”

I bumped shoulders with him. “Pessimist.” We crawled into Gideon’s bed at ten thirty and watched the last half of a show while curled up together. Sexual tension crackled in the air between us, but he didn’t make any overtures so I didn’t either. I suspected he was stil trying to make amends for the hotel, trying to prove that he wanted to spend time with me not “actively fucking.”

It worked. As much as I desired his outrageously sexy body, it felt good just hanging out together.

He slept in the nude, which was fabulous for me to cuddle up against. I tossed one leg over his, wrapped an arm around his waist, and rested my cheek over his heart. I don’t remember the ending of the show, so I suppose I fel asleep before it was over.

When I woke it was stil dark in the room and I’d rol ed to the far side of my half of the bed. I sat up to see the digital clock face on Gideon’s nightstand and found it was barely three in the morning. I usual y slept straight through the night and thought maybe the strange surroundings were keeping me from sleeping deeply; then Gideon moaned and shifted restlessly and I realized what had disturbed me. The sound he made was pained, his subsequent hiss of breath tormented.

“Don’t touch me,” he whispered harshly. “Get your fucking hands off of me!”

I froze, my heart racing. His words sliced through the dark, fil ed with fury.

“You sick bastard.” He writhed, his legs kicking at the covers. His back arched on a groan that sounded perversely erotic. “Don’t. Ah, Christ…It hurts.” He strained, his body twisting. I couldn’t bear it.

“Gideon.”

Because

Cary

had

nightmares

sometimes, I knew better than to touch a man in the throes of one. Instead, I knelt on my side of the bed and cal ed his name. “Gideon, wake up.” Stil ing abruptly, he fel to his back, tense and expectant. His chest heaved with panting breaths. His cock was hard and lay heavily along his bel y.

I spoke firmly, although my heart was breaking.

“Gideon. You’re dreaming. Come back to me.” He deflated into the mattress. “Eva…?”

“I’m here.” Shifting, I moved out of the way of the moonlight, but saw no luminous glitter that would tel me his eyes were open. “Are you awake?” His breathing began to slow, but he didn’t speak.

His hands were fisted in the bottom sheet. I pul ed the shirt I was wearing over my head and dropped it on the bed. I sidled closer, reaching out with a tentative hand to touch his arm. When he didn’t move, I caressed him, my fingertips sliding gently over the hard muscle of his biceps.

“Gideon?”

He jerked awake. “What? What is it?”

I sat back on my heels with my hands on my thighs. I saw him blink at me, and then shove both hands through his hair. I could feel the nightmare clinging to him, could sense it in the rigidness of his body.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gruffly, pushing up onto one elbow. “You okay?”

“I want you.” I stretched out against him, aligning my bare body to his. Pressing my face into his damp throat, I sucked gently on his salty skin. I knew from my own nightmares that being held and loved could push the specters back into the closet for a little while.

His arms came around me, his hands running up and down the curve of my spine. I felt him let go of the dream with a long, deep sigh.

Pushing him to his back, I climbed over him and sealed my mouth over his. His erection was notched between the lips of my sex and I rocked against him.

The feel of his hands in my hair, holding me to take control of the kiss, quickly made me wet and ready.

Fire licked just beneath my skin. I stroked my clit up and down his thick length, using him to masturbate until he made a rough sound of desire and rol ed to put me beneath him.

“I don’t have any condoms in the house,” he murmured before wrapping his lips around my nipple and sucking gently.