Bared to You (Crossfire, #1)(60)

"Group therapy." I set my hand over his to still its upward slide on my leg, smiling at the mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "My dad's a cop and he'd heard of this therapist who supposedly had mad skills with wild kids, which I was. Cary was seeing Dr. Travis, too."

"Mad skills, huh?" Gideon smiled.

"Dr. Travis isn't like any other therapist I've ever met. His office is an old gymnasium he converted. He had an open door policy with 'his kids' and hanging out there was more real to me than lying on a couch. Plus he had a no-bullshit rule. It was straight up honesty both ways or he'd get pissed. I've always liked that about him, that he cared enough to get emotional."

"Did you choose SDSU because your dad's in Southern California?"

My mouth twisted wryly as he revealed another bit of knowledge about me that I hadn't given him. "How much have you dug up on me?"

"Whatever I could find."

"Do I want to know how extensive that is?"

He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed the back. "Probably not."

I shook my head, exasperated. "Yes, that's why I attended SDSU. I didn't get to spend a lot of time with my dad while I was growing up. Plus my mother was smothering me to death."

"And you never told your dad about what happened to you?"

"No." I rolled the stem of my wineglass between my fingers. "He knows I was an angry troublemaker with self-esteem issues, but he doesn't know about Nathan."

"Why not?"

"Because he can't change what happened. Nathan was lawfully punished. His father paid a large sum for damages. Justice was served."

Gideon spoke coolly. "I disagree."

"What more can you expect?"

He drank deeply before replying. "It's not fit to describe over dinner."

"Oh." Because that sounded ominous, especially when paired with the ice of his gaze, I returned my attention to the food in front of me. There was no menu at Masa, only omakase, so every bite was a surprise delight, and the dearth of patrons made it seem almost as if we had the whole place to ourselves.

After a moment, he said, "I love watching you eat."

I shot him a look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You eat with gusto. And your little moans of pleasure make me hard."

I bumped my shoulder into his. "By your own admission, you're always hard."

"Your fault," he said, grinning, which made me grin, too.

Gideon ate with more deliberation than I did and didn't bat an eye at the astronomical check.

Before we stepped outside, he slid his jacket over my shoulders and said, "Let's go to your gym tomorrow."

I glanced at him. "Yours is nicer."

"Of course it is. But I'll go wherever you like."

"Someplace without helpful trainers named Daniel?" I asked sweetly.

He looked at me with an arched brow and a wry curving of his lips. "Watch yourself, angel. Before I think of a suitable consequence for mocking my possessiveness where you're concerned."

I noted he didn't threaten me with a spanking again. Did he understand that administered pain with sex was a major trigger for me? It took me back to a mental place I never wanted to return to.

On the ride back to Gideon's place, I curled into him in the back of the Bentley, my legs slung over one of his thighs and my head on his shoulder. I thought about the ways Nathan's abuse still affected my life - my sex life in particular.

How many of those ghosts could Gideon and I exorcise together? After that brief glimpse of toys I'd seen in the hotel room drawer, it was clear he was more experienced and sexually adventurous than I was. And the pleasure I'd derived from the ferocity of his lovemaking on the couch earlier proved to me that he could do things to me no one else could.

"I trust you," I whispered.

His arms tightened around me. With his lips in my hair, he murmured, "We're going to be good for each other, Eva."

When I fell asleep in his arms later that night, it was with those words in my head.

"Don't...No. No, don't.... Please."

Gideon's cries had me jackknifing up in the bed, my heart thudding violently. I fought for breath, glancing wild-eyed at the man thrashing next to me.

He snarled like a feral beast, his hands fisted and his legs kicking restlessly. I moved back, afraid he'd strike out at me unknowingly in his dreams.

"Get off of me," he panted.

"Gideon! Wake up."

"Get...off..." His hips arched upward with a hiss of pain. He hovered there, teeth gritted, his back bowed as if the bed was on fire beneath him. Then he collapsed, the mattress jolting as he bounced off of it.

"Gideon." I reached for the bedside lamp, my throat burning. I couldn't reach it, had to throw the tangled blankets off to get closer. Gideon was writhing in agony, thrashing so violently he shook the bed.

The room lit up in a sudden flare of illumination. I turned toward him...

And found him masturbating with shocking viciousness.

His right hand gripped his cock with white knuckled force, pumping brutally fast. His left hand clenched the fitted sheet. Torment and pain twisted his beautiful face.

Fearing for his safety, I shoved his shoulder with both hands. "Gideon, goddamn it. Wake up!"