Reflected in You: Chapter 11

I reclined with my eyes closed, my back cradled against Gideon’s chest, listening to the sound of lapping water as his hands glided lazily over me in the claw-foot tub.

He’d washed my hair and then my body, pampering me, spoiling me. I knew he was making up for last night and the method he’d used to get me to face the truth—a truth he’d clearly known but needed me to see as well.

How did he know me so well . . . better than I knew myself?

“Tell me about him,” he murmured, his arms wrapping around my waist.

I took a deep breath. I’d been waiting for him to ask about Brett. I knew Gideon well, too. “First, tell me if he’s okay.”

There was a pause before he answered. “There’s no permanent damage. Would you care if there was?”

“Of course I’d care.” I heard his teeth grind.

“I want to know about you two,” he demanded tightly.

“No.”

“Eva . . .”

“Don’t take that tone with me, Gideon. I’m tired of being an open book for you while you hoard all your secrets.” My head rolled to the side so that my cheek was pressed against his damp chest. “If all I get of you is your body, I’ll take it. But I can’t give you more in return.”

“You mean you won’t. Let’s be—”

“I can’t.” I pulled away from him, twisting so that I faced him. “Look what it’s doing to me! I hurt you last night. On purpose. Without even realizing it, because the resentment is eating at me even while I’m convincing myself that I can live with everything you’re not telling me.”

Sitting up, he spread his arms. “I’m wide open for you, Eva! You’re making it sound like you don’t know me . . . that all we have is sex . . . when you know me better than anyone else.”

“Let’s talk about what I don’t know. Why do you own so much of Vidal Records? Why do you hate your family home? Why are you estranged from your parents? What’s between you and Dr. Terrence Lucas? Where’d you go the other night when I had that nightmare? What’s behind your nightmares? Why—”

“Enough!” he snapped, shoving his hands through his wet hair.

I settled back, watching and waiting as he clearly struggled with himself. “You should know you can tell me anything,” I said softly.

“Can I?” He pierced me with his gaze. “Don’t you have enough to look past as it is? How much shit can I pile on you before you run like hell?”

Laying my arms along the rim of the tub, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. “Okay, then. We’ll just be fuck buddies who bitch to a therapist once a week. Good to know.”

“I screwed her,” he spat. “There. Do you feel better?”

I shot up so fast, water surged over the edge of the tub. My stomach cramped. “You screwed Corinne?”

“No, damn it.” His face was flushed. “Lucas’s wife.”

“Oh . . .” I remembered the photo I’d found of her through my Google search. “She’s a redhead,” I said lamely.

“My attraction to Anne was based entirely on her relationship to Lucas.”

I frowned, confused. “So things were off between you and Dr. Lucas before you slept with his wife? Or because of it?”

Gideon set his elbow on the side of the tub and scrubbed at his face. “He alienated me from my family. I returned the favor.”

“You broke them up?”

“I broke her.” He exhaled harshly. “She came on to me at a fund-raiser. I brushed her off until I learned who she was. I knew it’d kill Lucas to know I’d banged her, and the opening was there so I took it. It was just supposed to be that once, but Anne contacted me the next day. Because it would hurt him more to know she couldn’t get enough, I let it go on. When she was ready to leave him for me, I sent her back to her husband.”

I stared at him, noting his defiant embarrassment. He would do it again, but he was ashamed of what he’d done.

“Say something!” he snapped.

“Did she think you loved her?”

“No. Fuck. I’m an asshole for nailing another man’s wife, but I didn’t promise her anything. I was screwing Lucas through her—I didn’t expect for her to become collateral damage. I wouldn’t have let it get that far, if I had.”

“Gideon.” I sighed and shook my head.

“What?” He was practically bristling with restless, anxious energy. “Why did you say my name like that?”

“Because you’re ridiculously dense for such a smart guy. You were sleeping with her regularly and didn’t expect her to fall in love with you?”

“Jesus.” His head fell back with a groan. “Not this again.”

Then he straightened abruptly. “Actually, you know what? You keep on thinking I’m God’s gift to women, angel. It’s better for me if you believe I’m the best you can get.”

I splashed him. The ease with which he dismissed his appeal was another way he mirrored me. We knew our strengths and played up our assets. But we couldn’t see what made us unique enough for someone to really love us.

Gideon lunged forward and caught my hands. “Now, tell me what the fuck you had with Brett Kline.”

“You didn’t tell me what Dr. Lucas did to piss you off.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Not the details,” I argued.

“It’s your turn to spill. Out with it.”

It took me a long time to get the words out. No guy wanted a recovering slut for his girlfriend. But Gideon waited patiently. Obstinately. I knew he wasn’t going to let me get out of the tub until I told him about Brett.

“I was nothing but a convenient fuck for Brett,” I confessed in a rush, wanting to get it over with, “and I put up with it—went out of my way for it—because in that period of my life, sex was the only way I knew how to feel loved.”

“He wrote a love song about you, Eva.”

I looked away. “The truth wouldn’t make much of a ballad, would it?”

“Did you love him?”

“I— No.” I looked at Gideon when he exhaled audibly, as if he’d been holding his breath. “I had a crush on him and the way he sings, but it was totally superficial. I never got to really know him.”

His entire body visibly relaxed. “He was part of a . . . phase? That’s it?”

I nodded and tried to pull my hands free of his, wishing I could get past my feelings of shame. I didn’t blame Brett or any of the guys who’d drifted through my life then. I had no one to blame but myself.

“Come here.” Gideon caught me by the waist and pulled me closer, tucking me against his chest again. His embrace was the most wonderful feeling in the world. His hands stroked the length of my spine, gentling me. “I won’t lie. I want to beat the hell out of any man who’s had you—you’d be smart to keep them the hell away from me—but nothing in your past can change how I feel about you. And God knows I’m no saint.”

“I wish I could make it go away,” I whispered. “I don’t like remembering the girl I was then.”

He rested his chin atop the crown of my head. “I get it. It didn’t matter how long I showered after I’d been with Anne, it was never long enough to feel clean.”

I tightened my arms around his waist, giving comfort and acceptance. And gratefully accepting both in return.

* * *

The white silk robe I found hanging in the closet was gorgeous. It was lined with the softest terrycloth and embroidered with silver thread at the cuffs. I loved it, which was a good thing since it was, apparently, the only article of clothing for me in the entire house.

I watched Gideon pull on a pair of black silk pajama pants and tie the drawstring. “Why do you get clothes and I get a robe?”

He glanced up at me through a lock of inky hair that draped over his brow. “Because I’m the one who arranged everything?”

“Fiend.”

“Just makes it easier for me to keep up with your insatiable sexual demands.”

“My insatiable demands?” I headed into the bathroom to take the towel off my head. “I clearly remember begging to be left alone last night. Or was it this morning, after an all-nighter?”

He filled the doorway behind me. “You’ll be begging again tonight, too. I’ll go make some coffee.”

In the mirror, I watched him turn away and saw the darkening bruise on his side. It was low on his back, where I hadn’t had a chance to see it before. I spun around. “Gideon! You’re hurt. Let me see.”

“I’m fine.” He was partway down the stairs before I could stop him. “Don’t take too long.”

Guilt swamped me, and a terrible urge to cry. My hand shook as I ran a wide-toothed comb through my damp hair. The bathroom had been stocked with my usual toiletries, demonstrating once again how thoughtful and attentive Gideon was, which only emphasized my deficits. I was making his life hell. After all he’d already suffered, my issues were the last thing he needed to deal with.

I took the stairs down to the first floor and found myself unable to join Gideon in the kitchen. I needed a minute to pull myself together and put on a happy face. I didn’t want to ruin the weekend for him, too.

I stepped out through the French doors that led to the deck. The roar of the surf and the biting salt spray hit me at once. The hem of my robe whipped gently in the ocean breeze, cooling me in a way I found invigorating.

Taking a deep breath, I gripped the railing and closed my eyes, trying to find the peace I needed to keep Gideon from worrying. My problem was me, and I didn’t want to concern him with something he couldn’t change. Only I could make myself a stronger person, and I needed to, if I wanted to make him happy and offer him the security he so desperately wanted from me.

The door opened behind me, and I took a deep breath before turning to face him with a smile. Gideon came out with two steaming mugs gripped in one hand—one filled with black coffee and the other lightened with half-and-half. I knew it would be made perfectly to my tastes and delicious, because Gideon knew exactly what I liked. Not because I’d told him, but because he paid attention to everything about me.

“Stop beating yourself up,” he ordered sternly, setting the mugs on the railing.

I sighed. Of course I couldn’t hide my mood from him with just a smile. He saw right through me.

He caught my face in his hands and glared down at me. “It’s over and done with. Forget it.”

I reached out and ran my fingertips over the place where I’d seen the bruise.

“It needed to happen,” he said curtly. “No. Shut up and listen to me. I thought I understood your feelings about Corinne, and, frankly, I thought you just weren’t dealing with it well. But I had no clue. I was a self-centered idiot.”

“I’m not dealing with it well. I hate her fucking guts. I can’t think about her without feeling violent.”

“I get it now. I didn’t before.” His mouth twisted ruefully. “Sometimes it takes something drastic to shake me up. Luckily, you’ve always been very good at getting my attention.”

“Don’t try to tease this away, Gideon. You could’ve been seriously hurt because of me.”

He caught me by the waist when I would’ve turned away. “I was seriously hurt because of you. Seeing you in another guy’s arms, kissing him . . .” His eyes grew hot and dark. “It shredded me, Eva. Cut me open and left me bleeding. I kicked his ass in self-defense.”

“Oh, God,” I breathed, devastated by his brutal honesty. “Gideon.”

“I’m disgusted with myself for not being more understanding about Corinne. If a kiss could make me feel like that . . .” He wrapped his arms tight around me, one arm banding my hips while the other crossed my back so he could grip the back of my head. Capturing me.

“If you ever cheated on me,” he said hoarsely, “it would kill me.”

Turning my head, I pressed my lips to his throat. “That stupid kiss meant nothing. Less than nothing.”

His hand gripped my hair and tilted my head back. “You don’t understand what your kisses mean to me, Eva. For you to just give one away and call it stupid—”

Gideon dipped his head and sealed his mouth over mine. It started softly, sweet and teasing, his tongue stroking across my bottom lip. I opened my mouth, my tongue flicking out to touch his. He tilted his head and licked into my mouth. Fast, shallow licks that stirred a simmering desire.

I reached up and slid my fingers into his damp hair, pushing up onto my tiptoes to deepen the kiss. I moaned when he sucked on my tongue, leaning heavily against him. His lips moved against mine, growing wetter and hotter. We ate at each other, growing wilder by the second until we were fucking each other’s mouths, passionately mating with lips and tongues and tiny bites. I was panting with my hunger for him, my lips slanting over his, needy sounds spilling from my throat.

His kisses were gifts. He kissed with everything he had, with power and passion and hunger and love. He held nothing back, giving everything, exposing everything.

Tension gripped his powerful frame, his rough satin skin growing feverishly hot. His tongue was plunging into my mouth, tangling with mine, his quickened breaths mingling with my own and filling my lungs. My senses were drenched in him, in his flavor and scent, my mind spinning as I angled my head, seeking a deeper taste. Wanting to lick deeper, suck harder. Devour.

I wanted him so much.

His hands ran up and down my spine, trembling and restless. He groaned and my sex tightened in answer. Tugging at the belt of my robe, he loosened it, spreading open the halves to grip my bare hips in his hands. He tugged on my lower lip, sinking his teeth into it, his tongue caressing it. I whimpered, wanting more, my mouth feeling swollen and sensitive.

No matter how close we were, it was never close enough.

Gideon gripped both cheeks of my ass and pulled me up hard against him, his erection like hot steel burning my belly through the thin silk of his pants. He released my lip and took my mouth again, filling me with the taste of his desire and need, his tongue a velvet lash of tormenting pleasure.

A hard shudder shook him and he growled, his hips circling. His fingers bit into my rear and his groan vibrated against my lips. I felt his cock jerk between us, then scorching warmth spread over my skin. He came with a tormented groan, soaking the silk between us.

I cried out, melting and aching, so insanely aroused by the knowledge that I could make him lose control with just a kiss.

His grip loosened, his lungs heaving. “Your kisses are mine.”

“Yes. Gideon . . .” I was shaken, left emotionally raw and open by the most erotic moment of my life.

He sank to his knees and tongued me to a shattering climax.

* * *

We showered and napped the morning away. It felt so good to sleep beside him again, with my head pillowed on his chest, my arm draped over his rock-hard stomach, and my legs tangled with his.

When we woke shortly after one in the afternoon, I was starving. We headed down to the kitchen together and I found that I liked the ultra-stark modern look in that space. The watered-glass cabinet doors and granite paired beautifully with the dark hardwood. Better yet, the pantry was fully stocked. There was no need to leave the house for anything.

We went the easy route and made sandwiches, which we took into the living room and ate cross-legged on the couch facing each other.

I was halfway through when I caught Gideon watching me with a grin.

“What?” I asked, around a bite.

“Arnoldo’s right. It’s fun watching you eat.”

“Shut up.”

His grin widened. He looked so carefree and happy it made my heart hurt.

“How did you find this place?” I asked him. “Or how did Scott find it?”

“I found it.” He shoved a potato chip in his mouth and licked the salt from his lips, which I found sexy as hell. “I wanted to take you away to an island, where no one could bother us. This is pretty close to that, without the travel time. I planned for us to fly down originally.”

I ate thoughtfully, remembering the long drive. As insanity-inducing as the trip had been, there was something exciting about the idea of him rearranging our schedule just to fuck me senseless over hours, using my need for him to face a truth I’d blocked. Imagining all the frustration and fury that must have driven his plans . . . his thoughts focused on unleashing all of that seething passion on my helpless, willing body . . .

“You’re getting that fuck-me look on your face,” he observed. “And you call me a sex fiend.”

“Sorry.”

“Not complaining.”

I rewound my thoughts to earlier in the evening. “Arnoldo doesn’t like me anymore.”

One dark brow arched. “You’re getting the fuck-me look and thinking about Arnoldo? Do I have to kick his ass now, too?”

“No. Jeez. I threw that out there to distract us from sex and because it needs to be addressed.”

He shrugged. “I’ll talk to him.”

“I think I should do it, for what it’s worth.”

Gideon studied me with those amazing blue eyes. “What would you say?”

“That he’s right. I don’t deserve you and I fucked up bad. But I’m crazy in love with you and I’d like a chance to prove to you both that I can be what you need.”

“Angel, if I needed you more, I couldn’t function.” He lifted my hand to his lips to kiss my fingertips. “And I don’t care what anyone else thinks. We’ve got our own rhythm and it works for us.”

“Does it work for you?” I grabbed my bottle of iced tea off the coffee table and took a drink. “I know it drains you. Do you ever think it’s just too hard or too painful?”

“You do realize how suggestive that sounds, right?”

“Oh my God.” I laughed. “You’re terrible.”

His eyes sparkled with amusement. “That’s not what you usually say.”

Shaking my head, I went back to eating.

“I’d rather argue with you, angel, than laugh with anyone else.”

Jesus. It took me a minute to be able to swallow the last bite in my mouth. “You know . . . I love you madly.”

He smiled. “Yes, I know.”

* * *

After we’d cleaned up the mess from lunch, I tossed the sponge into the sink and said, “I need to make my Saturday phone call to my dad.”

Gideon shook his head. “Not possible. You’ll have to wait ’til Monday.”

“Huh? Why?”

He caged me to the counter by gripping the edge on either side of me. “No phones.”

“Are you serious? What about your cell phone?” I’d left mine at home before we went to the concert, knowing I had no place to carry it and having no intention of using it anyway.

“It’s heading back to New York with the limo. No Internet, either. I had the modem and phones taken out before we got here.”

I was speechless. With all the responsibilities and commitments he had, cutting himself off for the weekend was . . . unbelievable. “Wow. When’s the last time you fell off the face of the earth like this?”

“Hmm . . . that would be never.”

“There have to be at least a half dozen people freaking out because they can’t run something by you.”

He lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. “They’ll deal with it.”

Pleasure surged through me. “I have you all to myself?”

“Completely.” His mouth curved in a wicked smile. “What will you do with me, angel?”

I smiled back, ecstatically happy. “I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

* * *

We went for a walk on the beach.

I rolled up a pair of Gideon’s pajama bottoms and put on my white tank top, which was indecent since my bra was heading back to New York along with Gideon’s cell phone.

“I have died and gone to heaven,” he pronounced, checking out my chest as we strolled along the shore, “where the embodiment of every wet-dream, spank-bank fantasy of my adolescence is real and totally mine.”

I bumped my shoulder into his. “How do you go from devastatingly romantic to crude in the space of an hour?”

“It’s another one of my many talents.” His gaze dropped again to the prominent points of my nipples, which were hard from exposure to the ocean breeze. He squeezed my hand and gave an exaggerated happy sigh. “Heaven with my angel. It doesn’t get any better than this.”

I had to agree. The beach was beautiful in a moody, untamed way that reminded me a lot of the man whose hand I held. The sounds of the surf and the crying of the gulls filled me with a unique sense of contentment. The water was cold on my bare feet, and the wind whipped my hair across my face. It had been a long time since I’d felt so good, and I was grateful to Gideon for giving us this time away to enjoy each other. We were perfect together when we were alone.

“You like it here,” he noted.

“I’ve always loved being close to the water. My mother’s second husband had a lake house. I remember walking along the shore like this with her and thinking I’d buy something on the water for myself one day.”

He released my hand and draped his arm around my shoulders instead. “So let’s do it. How about this place? You like it?”

I glanced up at him, loving the sight of the wind sifting through his hair. “Is it for sale?”

He looked down the stretch of beach in front of us. “Everything’s for sale at the right price.”

“Do you like it?”

“The interior’s a little cold with all that white, although I like the master bedroom the way it is. We could change all the rest. Make it more us.”

“Us,” I repeated, wondering what that would be. I loved his apartment with its old world elegance. I think he felt comfortable at my place, which was more modern traditional. Combining the two . . . “Big step, buying a property together.”

“Inevitable step,” he corrected. “You told Dr. Petersen failure isn’t an option.”

“Yep, I did.” We walked a little farther in silence. I tried to figure out how I felt about Gideon wanting to have a more tangible tie between us. I also wondered why he’d choose joint property ownership as the way to achieve it. “So I take it you like it here, too?”

“I like the beach.” He brushed his hair back from his face. “There’s a picture of me and my father building a sand castle on a beach.”

It was a miracle my steps didn’t falter. Gideon volunteered so little information about his past that when he did, it was nearly an earthshaking event. “I’d like to see it.”

“My mother has it.” We took a few more steps before he said, “I’ll get it for you.”

“I’ll go with you.” He hadn’t told me why yet, but he’d told me once that the Vidal home was a nightmare for him. I suspected that whatever was at the root of his parasomnia had taken place there.

Gideon’s chest expanded on a deep breath. “I can have it couriered.”

“All right.” I turned my head to kiss his bruised knuckles where they rested on my shoulder. “But my offer stands.”

“What did you think of my mother?” he asked suddenly.

“She’s very beautiful. Very elegant. She seemed gracious.” I studied him, seeing Elizabeth Vidal’s inky black hair and stunning blue eyes. “She also seems to love you a lot. It was in her eyes when she looked at you.”

He kept looking straight ahead. “She didn’t love me enough.”

My breath left me in a rush. Because I didn’t know what had given him such tormenting nightmares, I’d wondered if maybe she’d loved him too much. It was a relief to know that wasn’t the case. It was awful enough that his father committed suicide. To be betrayed by his mother, too, might be more than he could ever recover from.

“How much is enough, Gideon?”

His jaw tightened. His chest expanded on a deep breath. “She didn’t believe me.”

I came to a dead stop and pivoted to face him. “You told her what happened to you? You told her and she didn’t believe you?”

His gaze was trained over my head. “It doesn’t matter now. It’s long done.”

“Bullshit. It matters. It matters a lot.” I was furious for him. Furious that a mother hadn’t done her job and stood by her child. Furious that the child had been Gideon. “I bet it hurts like fucking hell, too.”

His gaze lowered to my face. “Look at you, so pissed off and upset. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You should’ve said something earlier.”

The tension in his shoulders eased and his mouth curved ruefully. “I haven’t told you anything.”

“Gideon—”

“And of course you believe me, angel. You’ve had to sleep in a bed with me.”

I grabbed his face in my hands and stared hard up into his eyes. “I. Believe. You.”

His face contorted with pain for a split second before he picked me up in a bear hug. “Eva.”

I slung my legs around his waist and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “I believe you.”

* * *

When we got back to the house, Gideon went into the kitchen to open a bottle of wine and I perused the bookshelves in the living room, smiling when I came across the first book in the series I’d told him about, the one where’d I’d picked up his nickname, ace.

We sprawled on the couch and I read to him while he played absently with my hair. He was in a pensive mood after our walk, his mind seemingly far from me. I didn’t resent that. We’d given each other a lot to think about over the last couple of days.

When the tide came in, it did indeed rush up under the house, which sounded amazing and looked even more so. We stepped out onto the deck and watched it ebb and flow, turning the house into an island in the surf.

“Let’s make s’mores,” I said, while leaning over the railing with Gideon wrapped around my back. “On that portable patio fireplace.”

His teeth caught my earlobe and he whispered, “I want to lick melted chocolate off your body.”

Yes, please . . . I teased him, “Wouldn’t that burn?”

“Not if I do it right.”

I turned to face him, and he picked me up and sat me on the wide handrail. Then he stepped between my legs and hugged me around the hips. There was a wonderful peace that accompanied the twilight and we both sank into it. I ran my hands through his hair, just as the night breeze did.

“Have you talked to Ireland at all?” I asked, thinking of his half sister who was as beautiful as their mother. I’d met her at a Vidal Records party, and it became evident pretty quickly that she was hungry for any word or news about her eldest brother.

“No.”

“What do you think about bringing her over for dinner when my dad’s in town?”

Gideon’s head tilted to the side as he observed me. “You want to invite a seventeen-year-old to dinner with me and your dad.”

“No, I want your family to meet my family.”

“She’ll be bored.”

“How would you know?” I challenged. “In any case, I think your sister hero-worships you. As long as you pay attention to her, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled.”

“Eva.” He sighed, clearly exasperated. “Be real. I haven’t the slightest idea how to entertain a teenage girl.”

“Ireland’s not some random kid, she’s—”

“She might as well be!” He scowled at me.

It struck me then. “You’re afraid of her.”

“Come on,” he scoffed.

“You are. She scares you.” And I doubted it had anything to do with his sister’s age or that she was a girl.

“What’s gotten into you?” he complained. “You’re stuck on Ireland. Leave her alone.”

“She’s the only family you’ve got, Gideon.” And I was willing to support that choice. His half brother Christopher was an asshole, and his mother didn’t deserve to have him in her life.

“I have you!”

“Baby.” I sighed and wrapped my legs around him. “Yes, you’ve got me. But there’s room for more people who love you in your life.”

“She doesn’t love me,” he muttered. “She doesn’t know me.”

“I think you’re wrong about that, but if not, she’d love you if she knew you. So let her know you.”

“Enough. Let’s go back to talking about s’mores.”

I tried to stare him down, but it was impossible. When he considered a subject exhausted, there was no continuing it. So I’d have to go around it instead.

“You wanna talk about s’mores, ace?” I traced my lower lip with my tongue. “All that melty gooey chocolate on our fingers.”

Gideon’s gaze narrowed.

I ran my splayed fingers over his shoulders and down his chest. “I could be persuaded to let you smear that chocolate all over me. I could also be persuaded to smear some all over you.”

His brow arched. “Are you trying to bribe me with sex again?”

“Did I say that?” I blinked innocently. “I don’t think I said that.”

“It was implied. So let’s be clear.” His voice was dangerously low, his eyes dark as his hand slid up under the hem of my tank top and cupped my bare breast. “I’ll invite Ireland to dinner with your father because it’ll make you happy and that makes me happy.”

“Thank you,” I said breathlessly, because he’d begun to tug rhythmically on my nipple, making me whimper in delight.

“I’m going to do whatever the hell I want with melted chocolate and your body because it’ll please me and that will please you. I say when, I say how. Repeat that.”

“You say—” I gasped as his mouth wrapped around my other nipple through the ribbed cotton. “Oh, God.”

He nipped me with his teeth. “Finish.”

My entire body tightened, so quick to respond to that authoritative tone. “You say when. You say how.”

“There are things you can bargain with, angel, but your body and sex aren’t negotiable.”

My hands clutched his hair, an instinctive response to his relentless, delicious milking of my sensitive nipple. I gave up trying to understand why I wanted him in control. I just did. “What else can I bargain with? You have everything.”

“Your time and attention are the two things you can leverage. I’ll do anything for them.”

A shiver moved through me. “I’m wet for you,” I whispered.

Gideon stepped away from the railing, carrying me with him. “Because that’s how I want you.”