Bared to You(83)
"Three minutes, forty seconds," she corrected, displaying some of her family's expertise in music.
Cary led me onto the empty dance floor and pulled me into a swift foxtrot. It took me a minute to get into it, because I'd been stiff and tight with misery for days. Then the synergy of longtime partners kicked in and we glided across the floor with sweeping steps.
When the singer's voice faded with the music, we stopped, breathless. We were pleasantly surprised by applause. Cary gave an elegant bow and I held on to his hand for stability as I dipped into a curtsy.
When I lifted my head and straightened, I found Gideon standing in front of me. Startled, I stumbled back a step. He was seriously underdressed in jeans and an untucked white dress shirt that was open at the collar and rolled up at the sleeves, but he was so damn fine he still put every other man in attendance to shame.
The tremendous yearning I felt at the sight of him overwhelmed me. Distantly I was aware of the band's singer pulling Cary away, but I couldn't tear my gaze away from Gideon, whose wildly blue eyes burned into mine.
"What are you doing here?" he snapped, scowling.
I recoiled from his harshness. "Excuse me?"
"You shouldn't be here." He grabbed me by the elbow and started hauling me toward the house. "I don't want you here."
If he'd spit in my face, it couldn't have devastated me more. I yanked my arm free of him and walked briskly toward the house with my head held high, praying I could make it to the privacy of the town car and Clancy's protective watch before the tears started falling.
Behind me, I heard a come-hither female voice call out Gideon's name and I sent up a prayer that the woman would stall him long enough for me to get out without further confrontation.
I thought I just might make it when I passed into the cool interior of the house.
"Eva, wait."
My shoulders hunched at the sound of Gideon's voice and I refused to look at him. "Get lost. I can show myself out."
"I'm not done - "
"I am!" I pivoted to face him. "You don't get to talk to me that way. Who do you think you are? You think I came here for you? That I was hoping I'd see you and you'd throw me a goddamn scrap or bone...some pathetic acknowledgment of my existence? Maybe I'd be able to harass you into a quick, dirty f*ck in a corner somewhere in a pitiful effort to win you back?"
"Shut up, Eva." His gaze was scorching hot, his jaw tight and hard. "Listen to me - "
"I'm only here because I was told you wouldn't be. I'm here for Cary and his career. So you can go back to the party and forget about me all over again. I assure you, when I walk out the door, I'll be doing the same to you."
"Shut your damned mouth." He caught me by the elbows and shook me so hard my teeth snapped together. "Just shut up and let me talk."
I slapped him hard enough to turn his head. "Don't touch me."
With a growl, Gideon hauled me into him and kissed me hard, bruising my lips. His hand was in my hair, fisting it roughly, holding me in place so I couldn't turn away. I bit the tongue he thrust aggressively into my mouth, then his lower lip, tasting blood, but he didn't stop. I shoved at his shoulders with everything I had, but I couldn't budge him.
Goddamn Stanton! If not for him and my crazy-assed mother, I'd have had a few Krav Maga classes under my belt by now...
Gideon kissed me as if he was starved for the taste of me and my resistance began to melt. He smelled so good, so familiar. His body felt so perfectly right against mine. My nipples betrayed me, hardening into tight points, and a slow, hot trickle of arousal gathered in my core. My heart thundered in my chest.
God, I wanted him. The craving hadn't gone away, not even for a minute.
He picked me up. Imprisoned by his tight grip, it was hard to breathe and my head began to spin. When he carried me through a door and kicked it shut behind him, I couldn't do more than make a feeble sound of protest.
I found myself pressed against a heavy glass door on the other side of a library, Gideon's hard and powerful body subduing my own. His arm at my waist slid lower, his hand delving beneath my skirts and finding the curves of my butt exposed by my lacy boy shorts underwear. He wrenched my hips hard to his, making me feel how hard he was, how aroused. My sex trembled with want, achingly empty.
All the fight left me. My arms fell to my sides, my palms pressing flat to the glass. I felt the brittle tension drain from his body as I softened in surrender, the pressure of his mouth easing and his kiss turning into a passionate coaxing.