Bared to You - Chapter 5

I had a vicious hangover on Saturday morning
and figured it was no less than I deserved. As
much as I’d resented Gideon’s insistence on
negotiating sex with as much passion as he would
a merger, in the end I’d negotiated in kind.
Because I wanted him enough to take a
calculated risk and break my own rules.
I took comfort in knowing he was breaking
some of his own, too.
After a long, hot shower, I made my way into the
living room and found Cary on the couch with his
netbook, looking fresh and alert. Smelling coffee
in the kitchen, I headed there and filled the biggest
mug I could find.
“Morning, sunshine,” Cary called out.
With my much-needed dose of caffeine
wrapped between both palms, I joined him on the
couch.
He pointed at a box on the end table. “That
came for you while you were in the shower.”
I set my mug on the coffee table and picked up
the box. It was wrapped with brown paper and
twine, and had my name handwritten diagonally
across the top with a decorative calligraphic
flourish. Inside was an amber glass bottle with
Hangover Cure painted on it in a white oldfashioned
font and a note tied with raffia to the
bottle’s neck that said, “Drink me.” Gideon’s
business card was nestled in the cushioning
tissue paper.
As I studied the gift, I found it very apt. Since
meeting Gideon I’d felt like I’d fallen down the
rabbit hole into a fascinating and seductive world
where few of the known rules applied. I was in
uncharted territory that was both exciting and
scary.
I glanced at Cary, who eyed the bottle
dubiously.
“Cheers.” I pried the cork out and drank the
contents without thinking twice about it. It tasted
like sickly sweet cough syrup. My stomach
quivered in distaste for a moment, and then
heated. I wiped my mouth with the back of my
hand and shoved the cork back into the empty
bottle.
“What was that?” Cary asked.
“From the burn, it’s hair of the dog.”
His nose wrinkled. “Effective but unpleasant.”
And it was working. I already felt a little
steadier.
Cary picked up the box and dug out Gideon’s
card. He flipped it over; then held it out to me. On
the back Gideon had written, “Call me” in bold
slashing penmanship and jotted down a number.
I took the card, curling my hand around it. His
gift was proof that he was thinking about me. His
tenacity and focus was seductive. And flattering.
There was no denying I was in trouble where
Gideon was concerned. I craved the way I felt
when he touched me, and I loved the way he
responded when I touched him back. When I tried
to think of what I wouldn’t agree to do to have his
hands on me again, I couldn’t come up with much.
When Cary tried to hand me the phone, I shook
my head. “Not yet. I need a clear head when
dealing with him and I’m still fuzzy.”
“You two seemed cozy last night. He’s definitely
into you.”
“I’m definitely into him.” Curling into the corner
of the couch, I pressed my cheek into the cushion
and hugged my legs to my chest. “We’re going to
hang out, get to know each other, have casual-butphysically-
intense sex, and be otherwise
completely independent. No strings, no
expectations, no responsibilities.”
Cary hit a button on his netbook and the printer
on the other side of the room started spitting out
pages. Then he snapped the computer closed,
set it on the coffee table, and gave me all his
attention. “Maybe it’ll turn into something serious.”
“Maybe not,” I scoffed.
“Cynic.”
“I’m not looking for happily-ever-after, Cary,
especially not with a mega-mogul like Cross. I’ve
seen what it’s like for my mom being connected to
powerful men. It’s a full-time job with a part-time
companion. Money keeps Mom happy, but it
wouldn’t be enough for me.”
My dad had loved my mom. He’d asked her to
marry him and share his life. She’d turned him
down because he didn’t have the hefty portfolio
and sizeable bank account she required in a
husband. Love wasn’t a requisite for marriage in
Monica Stanton’s opinion and since her sultryeyed,
breathy-voiced beauty was irresistible to
eyed, breathy-voiced beauty was irresistible to
most men, she’d never had to settle for less than
whatever she wanted. Unfortunately she hadn’t
wanted my dad for the long haul.
Glancing at the clock, I saw it was ten thirty. “I
guess I should get ready.”
“I love spa day with your mom.” Cary smiled and
it chased the lingering shadows on my mood
away. “I feel like a god when we’re done.”
“Me, too. Of the goddess persuasion.”
We were so eager to be off that we went
downstairs to meet the car rather than wait for the
front desk to call up.
The doorman smiled as we stepped outside—
me in heeled sandals and a maxi dress, and Cary
in hip-hugging jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt.
“Good morning, Miss Tramell. Mr. Taylor. Will
you need a cab today?”
“No thanks, Paul. We’re expecting a car.” Cary
grinned. “It’s spa day at Perrini’s!”
“Ah, Perrini’s Day Spa.” Paul gave a sage nod.
“I bought my wife a gift certificate for our
anniversary. She enjoyed it so much I plan to
make it a tradition.”
“You did good, Paul,” I said. “Pampering a
woman never goes out of style.”
A black town car pulled up with Clancy at the
wheel. Paul opened the rear door for us and we
climbed in, squealing when we found a box of
Knipschildt’s Chocopologie on the seat. Waving
at Paul, we settled back and dug in, taking tiny
nibbles of the truffles that were worth savoring
slowly.
Clancy drove us straight to Perrini’s, where the
relaxation began from the moment one walked in
the door. Crossing the entrance threshold was like
taking a vacation on the far side of the world.
Every arched doorway was framed by lushly
vibrant striped silks, while jeweled pillows
decorated elegant chaises and oversized
armchairs.
Birds chirped from suspended gilded cages
and potted plants filled every corner with lush
fronds. Small decorative fountains added the
sounds of running water, while stringed
instrumental music was piped into the room via
cleverly hidden speakers. The air was redolent
with a mix of exotic spices and fragrances,
making me feel like I’d stepped into Arabian
Nights.
It was this-close to being too much, but it didn’t
cross the line. Instead, Perrini’s was exotic and
luxurious, an indulgent treat for those who could
afford it. Like my mother, who’d just finished a
milk-and-honey bath when we arrived.
I studied the menu of treatments available,
deciding to skip my usual “warrior woman” in favor
of the “passionate pampering.” I’d been waxed
the week before, but the rest of the treatment
—“designed to make you sexually irresistible”—
sounded like exactly what I needed.
I’d finally managed to get my mind back into the
safe zone of work when Cary spoke up from the
pedicure chair beside mine.
“Mrs. Stanton, have you met Gideon Cross?”
I gaped at him. He knew damn well my mom
went nuts over any news about my romantic—and
not-so-romantic, as the case may be—
relationships.
My mother, who sat in the chair on the other
side of me, leaned forward with her usual girlish
excitement over a rich, handsome man. “Of
course. He’s one of the wealthiest men in the
world. Number twenty-five or so on Forbes’s list, if
I’m remembering correctly. A very driven young
man, obviously, and a generous benefactor to
many of the children’s charities I champion.
Extremely eligible, of course, but I don’t believe
he’s gay, Cary. He’s got a reputation as a ladies’
man.”
“My loss.” Cary grinned and ignored my violent
headshaking. “But it’d be a hopeless crush
anyway, since he’s digging on Eva.”
“Eva! I can’t believe you didn’t say anything.
How could you not tell me something like that?”
I looked at my mom, whose scrubbed face
appeared young, unlined, and very much like
mine. I was very clearly my mother’s daughter,
right down to my surname. The one concession
she’d made to my father had been to name me
after his mother.
“There’s nothing to tell,” I insisted. “We’re just…
friends.”
“We can do better than that,” Monica said, with
a look of calculation that struck fear in my heart. “I
don’t know how it escaped me that you work in the
same building he does. I’m certain he was smitten
the moment he saw you. Although he’s known to
prefer brunettes…Hmm…Anyway. He’s also
known for his excellent taste. Clearly the latter won
out with you.”
“It’s not like that. Please don’t start meddling.
You’ll embarrass me.”
“Nonsense. If anyone knows what to do with
men, it’s me.”
I cringed, my shoulders creeping up to my ears.
By the time my massage appointment came
around, I was in desperate need of one. I
stretched out on the table and closed my eyes,
preparing to take a catnap to get through the long
night ahead.
I loved dressing up and looking pretty as much
as the next girl, but charity functions were a lot of
work. Making small talk was exhausting, smiling
nonstop was a pain, and conversations about
businesses and people I didn’t know were boring.
If it wasn’t for Cary benefitting from the exposure,
I’d put up a bigger fight about going.
I sighed. Who was I fooling? I’d end up going
anyway. My mom and Stanton supported abused
children’s charities because they were significant
to me. Going to the occasional stuffy event was a
small price to pay for the return.
Taking a deep breath, I consciously relaxed. I
made a mental note to call my dad when I got
home and thought about how to send a thank-you
note to Gideon for the hangover cure. I supposed I
could e-mail him using the contact info on his
business card, but that lacked class. Besides, I
didn’t know who read his inbox.
I’d just call him when I got home. Why not? He’d
asked—no, told—me to; he’d written the demand
on his business card. And I’d get to hear his
luscious voice again.
The door opened and the masseuse came in.
“Hello, Eva. You ready?”
Not quite. But I was getting there.
After many lovely hours at the spa, my mom and
Cary dropped me off at the apartment; then they
headed out to hunt for new cuff links for Stanton. I
used the time alone to call Gideon. Even with the
much-needed privacy, I punched most of his
phone number into the keypad a half-dozen times
before I finally put the call through.
He answered on the first ring. “Eva.”
Startled that he’d known who was calling, my
mind scrambled for a moment. How did he have
my name and number in his contact list? “Uh…
hi, Gideon.”
“I’m a block away. Let the front desk know I’m
coming.”
“What?” I felt like I’d missed part of the
conversation. “Coming where?”
“To your place. I’m rounding the corner now.
Call the desk, Eva.”
He hung up and I stared at the phone, trying to
absorb the fact that Gideon was moments away
from being with me again. Somewhat dazed, I
went to the intercom and talked to the front desk,
letting them know I was expecting him and while I
was talking, he walked into the lobby. A few
moments after that, he was at my door.
It was then that I remembered I was dressed in
only a thigh-length silk robe, and my face and hair
were styled for the dinner. What kind of
impression would he get from my appearance?
I tightened the belt of my robe before I let him in.
It wasn’t like I’d invited him over for a seduction or
anything.
Gideon stood in the hallway for a long moment,
his gaze raking me from my head down to my
French manicured toes. I was equally stunned by
his appearance. The way he looked in worn jeans
and a T-shirt made me want to undress him with
my teeth.
“Worth the trip to find you like this, Eva.” He
stepped inside and locked the door behind him.
“How are you feeling?”
“Good. Thanks to you. Thank you.” My stomach
quivered because he was here, with me, which
made me feel almost…giddy. “That can’t be why
you came over.”
“I’m here because it took you too long to call
me.”
“I didn’t realize I had a deadline.”
“I have to ask you something time-sensitive, but
more than that, I wanted to know if you were
feeling all right after last night.” His eyes were
dark as they swept over me, his breathtaking face
framed by that luxurious curtain of inky hair. “God.
You look beautiful, Eva. I can’t remember ever
wanting anything this much.”
With just those few simple words I became hot
and needy. Way too vulnerable. “What’s so
urgent?”
“Go with me to the advocacy center dinner
tonight.”
I pulled back, surprised and excited by the
request. “You’re going?”
“So are you. I checked, knowing your mother
would be there. Let’s go together.”
My hand went to my throat, my mind torn
between the weirdness of how much he knew
about me and concern over what he was asking
me to do. “That’s not what I meant when I said we
should spend time together.”
“Why not?” The simple question was laced with
challenge. “What’s the problem with going
together to an event we’d already planned on
attending separately?”
“It’s not very discreet. It’s a high-profile event.”
“So?” Gideon stepped closer and fingered a
curl of my hair.
There was a dangerous purr to his voice that
sent a shiver through me. I could feel the warmth
of his big, hard body and smell the richly
masculine scent of his skin. I was falling under his
spell, deeper with every minute that passed.
“People will make assumptions, my mother in
particular. She’s already scenting your bachelor
blood in the water.”
Lowering his head, Gideon pressed his lips into
the crook of my neck. “I don’t care what people
think. We know what we’re doing. And I’ll deal with
your mother.”
“If you think you can,” I said breathlessly, “you
don’t know her very well.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven.” His tongue traced the
wildly throbbing vein in my throat and I melted into
him, my body going lax as he pulled me close.
Still, I managed to say, “I haven’t said yes.”
“But you won’t say no.” He caught my earlobe
between his teeth. “I won’t let you.”
I opened my mouth to protest and he sealed his
lips over mine, shutting me up with a lush wet kiss.
His tongue did that slow, savoring licking that
made me long to feel him doing the same
between my legs. My hands went to his hair,
sliding through it, tugging. When he wrapped his
arms around me, I arched, curving into his hands.
Just as he had in his office, he had me on my
back on the couch before I realized he was
moving me, his mouth swallowing my surprised
gasp. The robe gave way to his dexterous fingers;
then he was cupping my breasts, kneading them
with soft, rhythmic squeezes.
“Gideon—”
“Shh.” He sucked on my lower lip, his fingers
rolling and tugging my tender nipples. “It was
driving me crazy knowing you were naked
beneath your robe.”
“You came over without—Oh! Oh, God…”
His mouth surrounded the tip of my breast, the
wash of heat bringing a mist of perspiration to my
skin.
My gaze darted frantically to the clock on the
cable box. “Gideon, no.”
His head lifted and he looked at me with stormy
blue eyes. “It’s insane, I know. I don’t—I can’t
explain it, Eva, but I have to make you come. I’ve
been thinking about it constantly for days now.”
One of his hands pushed between my legs.
They fell open shamelessly, my body so aroused I
was flushed and almost feverish. His other hand
continued to plump my breasts, making them
heavy and unbearably sensitive.
“You’re wet for me,” he murmured, his gaze
sliding down my body to where he was parting me
with his fingers. “You’re beautiful here, too. Plush
and pink. So soft. You didn’t wax today, did you?”
I shook my head.
“Thank God. I don’t think I would’ve made it ten
minutes without touching you, let alone ten hours.”
He slid one finger carefully into me.
My eyes closed against the unbearable
vulnerability of being spread out naked and
fingered by a man whose familiarity with the rules
of Brazilian waxing betrayed an intimate
knowledge of women. A man who was still fully
clothed and kneeling on the floor beside me.
“You’re so snug.” Gideon pulled out and thrust
gently back into me. My back bowed as I clenched
eagerly around him. “And so greedy. How long
has it been since the last time you were fucked?”
I swallowed hard. “I’ve been busy. My thesis,
job-hunting, moving…”
“A while, then.” He pulled out and pushed back
into me with two fingers. I couldn’t hold back a
moan of delight. The man had talented hands,
confident and skilled, and he took what he wanted
with them.
“Are you on birth control, Eva?”
“Yes.” My hands gripped the edges of the
cushions. “Of course.”
“I’ll prove I’m clean and you’ll do the same, then
you’re going to let me come in you.”
“Jesus, Gideon.” I was panting for him, my hips
circling shamelessly onto his thrusting fingers. I felt
like I’d spontaneously combust if he didn’t get me
off.
I’d never been so turned on in my life. I was near
mindless with the need for an orgasm. If Cary
walked in right then and found me writhing in our
living room while Gideon finger-fucked me, I didn’t
think I’d care.
Gideon was breathing hard, too. His face was
flushed with lust. For me. When I’d done nothing
more than respond helplessly to him.
His hand at my breast moved to my cheek and
brushed over it. “You’re blushing. I’ve scandalized
you.”
“Yes.”
His smile was both wicked and delighted, and it
made my chest tight. “I want to feel my cum in you
when I fuck you with my fingers. I want you to feel
my cum in you, so you think about how I looked
and the sounds I made when I pumped it into you.
And while you’re thinking about that, you’re going
to look forward to me doing it again and again.”
My sex rippled around his stroking fingers, the
rawness of his words pushing me to the brink of
orgasm.
“I’m going to tell you all the ways I want you to
please me, Eva, and you’re going to do it all…
take it all, and we’re going to have explosive,
primal, no-holds-barred sex. You know that, don’t
you? You can feel how it’ll be between us.”
“Yes,” I breathed, clutching my breasts to ease
the deep ache of my hardened nipples. “Please,
Gideon.”
“Shh…I’ve got you.” The pad of his thumb
rubbed my clitoris in gentle circles. “Look into my
eyes when you come for me.”
Everything tightened in my core, the tension
building as he massaged my clit and pushed his
fingers in and out in a steady, unhurried rhythm.
“Give it up to me, Eva,” he ordered. “Now.”
I climaxed with a thready cry, my grip whiteknuckled
on the sides of the cushions as my hips
pumped onto his hand, my mind far beyond
shame or shyness. My gaze was locked to his,
unable to look away, riveted by the fierce
masculine triumph that flared in his eyes. In that
moment he owned me. I’d do anything he wanted.
And he knew it.
Searing pleasure pulsed through me. Through
the roaring of blood in my ears, I thought I heard
him speak hoarsely, but I lost the words when he
hooked one of my legs over the back of the couch
and covered my cleft with his mouth.
“No—” I pushed at his head with my hands. “I
can’t.”
I was too swollen, too sensitive. But when his
tongue touched my clit, fluttering over it, the
hunger built again. More intense than the first
time. He rimmed my trembling slit, teasing me,
taunting me with the promise of another orgasm
when I knew I couldn’t have one again so quickly.
Then his tongue speared into me and I bit my lip
to bite back a scream. I came a second time, my
body quaking violently, tender muscles tightening
desperately around his decadent licking. His
growl vibrated through me. I didn’t have the
strength to push him away when he returned to my
clit and sucked softly…tirelessly…until I climaxed
again, gasping his name.
I was boneless as he straightened my leg and
still breathless when he pressed kisses up my
belly to my breasts. He licked each of my nipples,
and then hauled me up with his arms banded
around my back. I hung lax and pliable in his grip
while he took my mouth with suppressed violence,
bruising my lips and betraying how close to the
edge he was.
He closed my robe; then stood, staring down at
me.
“Gideon…?”
“Seven o’clock, Eva.” He reached down and
touched my ankle, his fingertips caressing the
diamond anklet I’d put on in preparation for the
evening. “And keep this on. I want to fuck you
while you’re wearing nothing else.”

Categories: Bared to You