Entwined with You (Crossfire #3) | Read Novels Online
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Not a chance. He lounged on his side, bare-chested and barefooted, his jeans unbuttoned to show both the waistband of his underwear and the sleek lines of his ripped abs. His dark brown hair was sexily mussed and his emerald eyes were bright with mischief. I was suddenly struck with the knowledge that I would have to keep a dreadful secret from my best friend. Cary was my touchstone, my voice of reason, my favorite shoulder to lean on—and a brother to me in every way that mattered.
I hated the thought of having to hold back what Gideon had done for me. Even our therapist could be ethically and legally bound to break our confidence. A burly, neon-vested traffic cop appeared and urged the bus into its lane with an authoritative white-gloved hand and a holler that meant business. He waved us through the intersection just before the light changed.
I sat back, my arms around my waist, rocking. It had also forced me to abandon the one person I needed to be with. The riot of emotions I felt had my heart racing.
The desolation in his eyes as the doors to his private elevator separated us had ripped me open inside. The cab turned the corner and pulled up in front of my apartment building. The night doorman opened the car door before I could tell the driver to turn around and take me back, and the sticky August air rushed in to chase the air-conditioning away. Smiling as if everything were okay in my world, I rushed into the lobby and headed straight for the elevator, with a brief wave at the front desk staff.
Her dark hair fell in thick waves around her shoulders, and her smile graced full lips that were a glossy pink. I frowned, not recognizing her. There was an avid gleam in her dark eyes that got my back up. When you smell the coffee, call me. Her lush mouth thinned. The iceman thawed a bit for you.
If she was determined to be a threat to him, I was determined to head her off at the pass. What had he revealed in the course of their… association? I shot a glance at the staff er at the front desk, who made a good show of politely ignoring us. I was too emotionally raw to deal with Deanna, and was still reeling from the conversation with Detective Graves. Too bad I knew what kind of information could be leaked from the police, and how easily and often it was done.
I stepped into the elevator and hit the button for my floor. As the doors slid shut, I sagged into the handrail. The ache in my chest intensified. Our relationship was so fucked up. I exited on my floor and let myself into my apartment, crossing the spacious living room to dump my purse on one of the kitchen bar stools.
I was too agitated to care where I was. Did he have company over? If so, who was it? My best friend had decided to try juggling two relationships—one with a woman who accepted him the way he was and one with a man who hated that Cary was involved with someone else. I shed my clothes across the bathroom floor en route to the shower. I missed him so much. I needed his touch, his desire, his love. My craving for those things was a gnawing hunger, making me restless and edgy.
There was so much that had to be said. Gideon stood just inside my closed bedroom door. The sight of him spurred a reaction so abrupt it was like a physical blow. My breath caught and my heart lurched into an excited rhythm, my entire being responding to the sight of him with a potent rush of yearning.
My gaze drank him in, roaming avidly over his lean, broad-shouldered frame. He wore black sweats and a well-loved Columbia sweatshirt, a combination that made him look like the twenty-eight-year-old man he was and not the billionaire mogul the rest of the world knew.
A Yankees ball cap was pulled low over his brow, but the shadow cast by its brim did nothing to diminish the striking blue of his eyes. They stared at me fiercely, his sensual lips drawn into a grim line. Gideon Cross was an impossibly gorgeous man, so beautiful that people stopped and stared when he walked by.
My chest expanded on a deep breath, my body responding to the proximity of his. Even though he stood several feet away, I could feel the heady attraction, the magnetic pull of being near the other half of my soul. I fought the urge to run into his arms, the place where I so desperately wanted to be.
But he was too still, too tightly reined. I waited in exquisite anticipation for his cue. I loved him wild, and I loved him tender. I feared what would happen if he came at me full force when I was so starved for his body. We might tear each other apart.
Missing you. I feel like my fucking sanity depends on you, Eva, and you want me to be happy about that? My tongue darted out to wet dry lips and he growled, sending a shiver through me. The tension in his posture visibly eased. Did my gratitude mean I was more twisted than I realized? Gideon took a deep breath. His hand reached up to his chest and rubbed at the area over his heart as if it hurt him. He was shaking and I cried, overwhelmed by the knowledge of how much he needed me.
Tilting my head to the angle he wanted, Gideon took my mouth with searing possession, tasting me with slow, deep licks. His passion and hunger exploded across my senses, and I whimpered, my hands tangling in his sweatshirt. His answering groan vibrated through me, tightening my nipples and sending goose bumps racing across my skin. I melted into him, my hands pushing the cap from his head so that my fingers could sink into the silky black mane of his hair.
I fell into the kiss, swept away by the lush carnality of it. A sob escaped me. He looked into my eyes. He nuzzled his nose against mine, his hands sliding reverently along my bare arms—hands with proverbial blood on them, which only made me love his touch all the more. His eyes closed. I brushed his hand away. Can we be together now, or are we still hiding our relationship from the police? Are we even in a relationship? Gideon held my gaze, hiding nothing, letting me see his pain and fear.
Of me. But emotionally, my love had been used against me with meticulous precision. He exhaled audibly. Tilting my head back, I pressed my lips gently to his. I reached under his sweatshirt, seeking and finding his warm, golden skin.
His muscles were hard and ridged beneath my palms, his body a seductive and virile work of art. I licked his lips, my teeth catching the full curve along the bottom and biting gently.
Gideon groaned. The sound of his pleasure slid over me like a caress. Reaching behind him, he grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand around. Morgan The tree paintings of Mary Hrbacek are different from those of the plein. Download our entwined with you eBooks for free and learn more about entwined with you. These books contain exercises and tutorials to improve your practical skills, at all levels!
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