Captivated by You (Crossfire#4) (20 page)

I try to pull away, but he’s got me trapped. He’s bigger than me, stronger. No matter how I

struggle, I can’t push him off.

“Don’t,” I tell him, squirming.

“You like it,” he grunts. His hand pumps me harder. “You shoot off like a geyser every time. It’s
okay. It’s supposed to feel good. You’ll be better once you’ve come. You won’t fight with your

mother so much …”

“No. Don’t! Oh, God …”

He pushes two slick fingers inside me. I cry out, writhing away, but he won’t quit. He’s rubbing
and thrusting into me, hitting the spot that makes me want to come more than anything. The

pleasure grows despite the tears burning my eyes.

My head falls forward. My chin touches my heaving chest. It’s coming. I can’t stop it …

Abruptly, I look down from a higher vantage. My hand is suddenly bigger, my forearm thicker

and coursing with veins. Dark hair dusts my arms and chest, my abdomen ripples with muscle as I

fight the orgasm I don’t want.

I
am not a child anymore. He can’t hurt me anymore.

There’s a knife atop the centerfold, gleaming in the light from the vanity beside me. I grab it

and jerk free of the fingers fucking me. I turn and the blade sinks into his chest.

“Don’t touch me!” I roar, grabbing his shoulder and yanking him into the knife, all the way to

the hilt.

Hugh’s eyes widen with horror. His mouth falls open in a silent scream.

His face morphs into Nathan’s. My childhood bathroom shimmers and transforms. We’re in an

eerily familiar hotel room.

My heart pounds harder. I can’t be here. They can’t find me here. Can’t find any trace of me. I

have to leave.

I stumble back. The knife withdraws in a smooth, blood-soaked glide. Nathan’s eyes turn milky

with death. They’re gray. Gray eyes. Beautiful, beloved dove gray irises. Eva’s eyes. Clouding

over …

Eva is bleeding in front of me.
Dying
in front of me. I’ve killed her. My God …

Angel!

Can’t move. Can’t reach her. She crumples and pools onto the floor, those stormy eyes dull and

sightless—

I jerked awake with a gasp, sitting up in a rush that sent an air-conditioned breeze across my

sweat-soaked skin. I couldn’t breathe through the panic and fear choking me. Shoving off the sheet

tangled around my legs, I stumbled out of bed, blind with terror. My stomach heaved in protest and I lurched into the bathroom, barely reaching the toilet before I vomited.

I showered, washing away the sticky sweat covering me.

The grief and despair weren’t so easy to get away from. As I scrubbed a dry towel over my skin,

they weighed heavily, suffocating me. The memory of Eva’s pale face etched with betrayal and death

haunted me. I couldn’t get it out of my head.

I stripped the bed with rough, jerky movements, then yanked a clean fitted sheet over the mattress.

“Gideon.”

I straightened and turned at the sound of Eva’s voice. She stood in the doorway to my bedroom, her

hands twisting in the hem of the T-shirt she wore. Regret hit me hard. She’d gone to sleep alone in the room I’d had redesigned to look like her bedroom on the Upper West Side.

“Hey,” she said softly, tentatively, shifting on her feet in a way that told me how uncomfortable she felt. How wary. “Are you okay?”

The light from the bathroom lit her face, revealing dark circles and reddened eyes. She’d fallen

asleep crying.

I’d done this to her. I had made her feel unwelcome, unwanted, her thoughts and feelings less of a

concern to me than my own. I’d let my past drive a wedge between us.

No, that wasn’t true. I had let my fear push her away.

“No, angel, I’m not.”

She took a single step closer, then stopped herself.

Opening my arms, I said hoarsely, “I’m sorry, Eva.”

She came to me in a rush, her body lush and warm. I held her too tightly, but she didn’t complain.

Pressing my cheek to the top of her head, I breathed in her scent. I could face anything—I
would
face anything—as long as she stayed with me.

“I’m afraid.” My voice was scarcely a whisper, but she heard it.

Her fingers dug into the muscles of my back as she pulled me closer. “Don’t be. I’m here.”

“I’ll try harder,” I promised. “Don’t give up on me.”

“Gideon.” She sighed, her breath soft against my chest. “I love you so much. I just want you to be

happy. I’m sorry for pushing you after I said I wouldn’t.”

“It’s my fault. I fucked up. I’m sorry, Eva. So sorry.”

“Shh. You don’t have to apologize.”

I picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her down carefully. I crawled into her arms,

wrapping myself around her and resting my face against her belly. She ran her fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp, then my nape, then my back. Accepting me, despite all my flaws.

The cotton of her T-shirt grew wet with my tears and I curled in tighter, ashamed.

“I love you,” she murmured. “I’ll never stop.”

GIDEON.

I stirred at the sound of Eva’s voice, then at the feel of her hand sliding down my chest. Opening

my tired, burning eyes, I saw her leaning over me, the room softly lit by the coming dawn, her hair

aglow in the meager light.

“Angel?”

She shifted, sliding a leg over me. Rising, she straddled me. “Let’s make today our best ever.”

I swallowed hard. “I’m on board with that plan.”

Her smile rocked my world. She reached for something she’d left on her pillow and a moment

later, haunting strains of music piped softly out of the speakers in the ceiling.

It took me a moment to recognize it. “Ave Maria.”

She touched my face, her fingertips gliding over my brow. “Okay?”

I wanted to answer her, but my throat was too tight. I could only nod. How could I tell her it felt

like a dream, a breathtaking heaven I didn’t deserve?

She reached behind her to push the sheet below my hips and out of the way. Her arms crossed her

torso to pull her shirt up and over her head. She threw it aside.

Awed, I struggled for my voice. “God, you’re beautiful,” I said hoarsely.

My hands lifted, gliding over the plush curves and valleys of her voluptuous body. I sat up and dug

my heels into the bed, pushing us backward until I was leaning against the headboard. My hands went

into her hair and down her throat. I could touch her for days and not get my fill.

“I love you,” she said, tilting her head to take my mouth in a hot, demanding kiss.

I let her have me, opening to her. Eva licked deep, stroking me with her tongue, her lips soft and

wet against mine.

“Tell me what you need,” I murmured, lost to the gently muted music. Lost to her.

“You. Just you.”

“Take me, then,” I told her. “I’m yours.”

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, Cross,” Arash said, his fingers drumming on the armrest of the chair in front of my desk, “but you’ve lost your killer instinct. Eva’s tamed you.”

I glanced up from my monitor. After spending two hours of my morning making love with my wife,

I could concede that I wasn’t feeling particularly aggressive. Slaked and relaxed was more apt. Still

… “Just because I don’t think LanCorp’s PhazeOne gaming system is a threat to the GenTen doesn’t

mean I’m not paying attention.”

“You’re aware,” he corrected, “which isn’t the same as paying attention, and I guarantee Ryan

Landon has noticed. You used to do something every week or two to poke at him, which—for better

or worse—gave him something to do.”

“Wasn’t it just last week that we closed the PosIT deal?”

“That’s reactive, Cross. You need to make a move he didn’t prompt.”

My office phone started ringing on the line synced to my smartphone. Ireland’s name popped up on

the screen and I reached for the receiver. “I have to take this.”

“Of course you do,” he muttered.

I narrowed my eyes at him as I answered. “Ireland, how are you?”

It wasn’t like my sister to call. We usually texted back and forth, a form of communication we were

both comfortable with. No awkward silences, no need to fake cheeriness or ease.

“Hey, sorry to call you in the middle of the day.” Her voice was off.

I frowned, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

Ireland paused. “Maybe now’s not a good time.”

I cursed inwardly. Eva had similar reactions when I was too brusque. The women in my life

needed to cut me some slack. I had a big learning curve when it came to social interactions. “You

sound upset.”

“So do you,” she shot back.

“You can call Eva and complain about it to her. She’ll sympathize. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

She sighed. “Mom and Dad were fighting all night. I don’t know what about, but Dad was yelling.

He never yells, you know that. He’s the most laid-back guy ever. Nothing gets to him. And Mom hates

fighting. She’s a conflict avoider.”

Her astuteness both startled and impressed me. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“Dad took off early this morning and Mom’s been crying ever since. Do you know what’s going

on? Is it about Eva and you getting married?”

A strange but recognizable quiet settled over me. I didn’t know what to say to her, and I refused to jump to conclusions. “That probably has something to do with it.”

The only thing I knew for certain was that I didn’t want Ireland listening to her parents fighting. I remembered what it had felt like when my parents fought in the days after my dad’s financial fraud

had been exposed. I could still feel echoes of the panic and fear. “Is there a friend you can stay with over the weekend?”

“You.”

The suggestion was unnerving. “You want to stay with me?”

“Why not? I’ve never seen your place.”

I stared at Arash, who was watching me. He leaned forward, setting his elbows on his knees.

I didn’t know how to refuse, but I couldn’t agree. The only person who’d ever spent the night with

me was Eva, and obviously, that hadn’t turned out well.

“Never mind,” she said. “Forget it.”

“No, wait.” Damn it. “Eva and I have plans with friends tonight, that’s all. I’ll need some time to

change them.”

“Oh, gotcha.” Her voice softened. “I don’t want to fuck up your plans. I’ve got some friends I can

call. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m worried about
you
. Eva and I can make some adjustments; it’s not a problem.”

“I’m not a kid, Gideon,” she said, clearly exasperated. “I don’t want to hang around your place

knowing you and Eva were supposed to be out having fun. That would totally suck, so no thanks. I’d

rather chill with my own friends.”

Relief relaxed my spine. “How about dinner on Saturday instead?”

“Yeah? I’m down. Can I stay the night then?”

I had no idea how I was going to manage it. I had to trust that Eva would know what to do. “That

can be arranged. Will you be okay until then?”

“Jeez, listen to you.” She laughed. “You sound like a big brother. I’ll be fine. It was just weird, you know, hearing them going at it. It freaked me out. Most people are probably used to their parents

fighting, but I’m not.”

“They’ll be fine. All couples fight eventually.” I said the words, but I was both uneasy and curious.

Eva couldn’t have been right about Chris not knowing. I found that impossible to believe.

I’D just finished rolling up the sleeves of my black dress shirt when Eva stepped into the reflection of the mirror. I froze, my gaze raking over her.

She had chosen short shorts, a sheer sleeveless blouse, and high-heeled sandals. She’d pulled her

hair up in its usual ponytail, but she had done something to it to make it look wild and bedhead messy.

Her eye makeup was dark, her lips pale. Big gold hoops hung from her ears, and bangles decorated

her wrists.

I’d woken up to an angel. I would be going to bed with a different woman entirely.

I whistled in appreciation, turning my back to the mirror to take in the real deal. “You look like a bad, bad girl.”

She wiggled her ass and gave a cocky toss of her head. “I am.”

“Come here.”

She eyed me. “I don’t think so. You’ve got the fuck-me look and we have to go.”

“We can be a little late. What would it take to talk you into wearing those shorts just for me?”

I wanted others to want her and know she was mine. I also wanted to keep her all to myself.

Her eyes took on a calculating gleam. “We could renegotiate the hand job.”

Remembering the deal we’d struck—a quickie for a clothed hand job—I realized the shorts were

going to make the former a bit more difficult than it could be. As for the latter, I could work something out.

Tilting my head in agreement, I told her, “Put on a skirt, angel, and let’s get this party started.”

“WAS this your idea?” Arash asked, when we met him outside the ground-floor entrance to the

Starlight Lounge.

Through the lobby glass, I watched a bouncer oversee the number of patrons entering the elevator

that would take them to the rooftop. Two more bouncers stood guard at the exterior door, holding

back the surging crowd hoping to get in based on their looks, their clothes, and/or their charm.

“It’s as much of a surprise to me as it is to you.”

“I meant to tell you.” Eva was literally hopping with excitement. “Shawna’s heard good things

about this place and I thought it’d be fun.”

“Great reviews online,” Shawna said, “and some of my regulars were raving about it.”

Manuel checked out the eager crowd behind the ropes, while Megumi Kaba stood cautiously