One with You (Crossfire #5)

“I heard you over the phone,” he said tightly.

I leaned into the doorjamb. I knew how he’d felt when I kissed Brett—murderous. They’d fought like beasts. A violent physical confrontation hadn’t been an option for me. My body had purged my jealousy the only way it could.

“Do what you have to do,” I murmured. “But I don’t need anything. I’m good. You and me—us—we’re good.”

Gideon took a deep breath. Let it out. Then he reached up behind him and yanked his shirt over his head. He kicked off his sandals while he unfastened his shorts, letting them drop to the floor. He wore nothing underneath.

I watched him prowl toward me naked, noting the darker tan lines and the rigidness of his cock. He was impossibly hard, his balls already drawn up tight. Every muscle flexed as he moved. His powerful thighs, his washboard abs, his thick biceps.

I didn’t move, barely breathed, hardly blinked. It amazed me that I could take him. He was nearly a foot taller and close to a hundred pounds heavier. And strong. So very strong.

When we made love, it turned me on to lie beneath him and feel all of that incredible power focused solely on pleasuring my body and taking pleasure in it.

Gideon reached me and pulled me into his arms. He lowered his head to take my mouth in a lush, deep kiss. Savoring and unhurried. Soft licks and coaxing lips. I didn’t realize he’d untied my top until it slipped down my arms. He slid his thumbs beneath the waistband of my shorts, gliding them back and forth across the sensitive skin, until he halted the kiss to crouch and help me step out of my clothes. I whimpered, wanting more.

“Let’s leave the heels on,” he murmured, straightening to his full height. His eyes were so brilliantly blue they reminded me of the water we’d skinny-dipped in when we married.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and he lifted me, carrying me to the bedroom.

“And some of those little round cheese puff breads,” I told Gideon, who relayed the addition to room service in Portuguese.

Lying prone on the bed facing the open sliding doors to the balcony, I kicked my legs up behind me, still wearing the fuck-me shoes. But nothing else. I rested my chin on my crossed arms. The warm ocean breeze felt good on my skin, cooling the sweat that covered every inch of me. The fan over the bed, with its mahogany blades carved into the shape of palm fronds, swirled lazily above.

I took a deep breath and smelled sex and Gideon.

Hehung up and the mattress dipped as he moved toward me, his lips brushing over my ass, then along my spine to my shoulder. He sprawled beside me, propping his head in one hand. The other stroked up and down my back.

I turned to look at him. “How many languages do you know?”

“A little of many and a lot of a few.”

“Hmm.” I arched into his touch.

He kissed my shoulder again. “I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured. “Glad I stayed.”

“I occasionally have good ideas.”

“So do I.” The lascivious gleam in his eyes told me exactly what he was thinking about.

He hadn’t slept all night, then super-slow-fucked me for nearly two hours. He’d come three times, the first time so hard he’d growled. Loudly. I knew the sound must have carried out the open windows. I’d orgasmed just hearing it. And he was ready to go again. He was always ready. Lucky me.

I rolled to my side, facing him. “Does it take two women to wear you out?”

Gideon’s face shuttered instantly. “I’m not going there.”

I touched his face. “Hey. It was a joke, baby. A bad one.”

He rolled to his back and grabbed a pillow, putting it between us. Then he turned his head toward me, a frown between his brows. “There used to be this … emptiness. Inside me,” he said quietly. “You called it a void. Said you filled it. You did.”

Listening, I just waited. He was talking. Sharing. It was hard for him and he didn’t like it. But he loved me more.

“I was waiting for you.” He brushed the hair back from my cheek. “A dozen women couldn’t have done what you did. But … Christ.” He ran both hands through his hair. “Distractions made it easier not to think about it.”

“I can make that happen,” I purred, wanting him to be happy and playful again. “I can make you not think about anything.”

“That emptiness is gone. You’re there.”

Leaning over him, I kissed him. “I’m right here, too.”

He shifted, rising to his knees and scooping me up, dropping me onto the pillow so that my ass was lifted into the air.

“This is how I want you.”