Reflected in You (Crossfire 2)

His h*ps churned, his hand in my hair guiding my pace.

"Ah, God."

He watched me with dark, hot eyes.

"I love the way you suck me off.

Like you can't get enough."

I couldn't.

I didn't think I ever could.

His pleasure meant so much to me, because it was real and raw.

For him, sex had always been staged and methodical.

He couldn't hold back with me because he wanted me beyond reason.

Two days without me and he was .

undone.

I pumped him with my fist, feeling the thick veins throbbing beneath the smooth skin.

A ragged sound tore from his throat and salty warmth spurted on my tongue.

He was close, his face flushed and his lips parted with gasping breaths.

Sweat misted my brow.

My excitement mounted along with his.

He was completely at my mercy, near mindless with the need to cl**ax, muttering filthy sexy things about what he was going to do to me the next time he f**ked me.

"That's it, angel.

Milk it .

make me come for you."

His neck arched, his breath exploding from his lungs.

"Fuck."

He came as I had - hard and brutal.

Semen burst from the tip of his c**k in a thick, hot rush that I struggled to swallow.

He growled my name, his h*ps pumping upward into my working mouth, taking what he needed from me, giving me all he had until he was emptied.

Then he curled toward me, pulling me into a strangling embrace that pinned me to his heaving chest.

For long moments, he just held me.

I listened as his raging heartbeat slowed and his breathing returned to normal.

Finally, he spoke with his lips in my hair.

"Needed that.

Thank you."

I smiled and snuggled into him.

"My pleasure, ace."

"I missed you," he said softly, his lips pressing to my brow.

"So damn much.

And not just for this."

"I know."

We needed this - the physical closeness, the frenzied touching, the rush of orgasm - to release some of the wild, overwhelming emotions that affected us when we were together.

"My dad's coming out to visit next week."

He stilled.

Lifting his head, he looked at me wryly.

"You have to tell me that while my dick's still hanging out?" I laughed.

"Caught you with your pants down?" "Hell."

He pressed his lips to my forehead, then rolled to his back and righted his clothes.

"You have an idea of how you want the first meeting to go? Dinner out or in? Your place or mine?" "I'll cook at my place."

I stretched, then tugged the wrinkles out of my shirt.

He nodded, but his vibe changed.

My sated, grateful lover of a moment before was replaced by the grim-faced man who'd been around more frequently lately.

"Would you prefer something different?" I asked.

"No.

It's a good plan and what I would've suggested.

He'll feel comfortable there."

"Will you?" "Yes."

He propped his head in one hand and looked down at me, brushing my hair back from my forehead.

"I'd rather not hit him in the face with my money if we can help it."

I took a deep breath.

"I hadn't considered that.

I just thought I'd be less anxious about making a mess in my own kitchen than in yours.

But you're right.

It'll be okay, though, Gideon.

Once he sees how you feel about me, he'll be good with us being together."

"I only care what he thinks if it affects how you feel.

If he doesn't like me and that changes something between us - " "You're the only one who can do that."

He gave a curt nod, which didn't help me feel better about what he was feeling.

A lot of men got nervous meeting their girlfriend's parents, but Gideon wasn't like other men.

He didn't rattle.

Usually.

I wanted him and my dad to be loose and easy around each other, not tense and defensive.

I changed the subject.

"Did you get everything worked out in Phoenix?" "Yes.

One of the project managers noted some anomalies in accounting, and she was right to push me to look deeper into it.

Embezzling isn't something I tolerate."

I winced, thinking of Gideon's father, who'd bilked investors out of millions before killing himself.

"What's the project?" "A golf resort."

"Nightclubs, resorts, luxury living, vodka, casinos .

with a chain of gyms thrown in to keep fit for the high life?" I knew from checking out the Cross Industries website that Gideon also had software and games divisions, and a growing social media platform for young urban professionals.

"You're a pleasure god in more ways than one."

"Pleasure god?" His eyes sparkled with humor.

"I spend all my energy worshipping you."

"How did you get to be so rich?" I blurted out, pricked by the memory of Cary's insinuations about how Gideon could've amassed so much at such a young age.

"People like to have fun, and they'll pay for the privilege."

"That's not what I meant.

How did you get Cross Industries started? Where did you get the capital to get things going?" His eyes took on a speculative gleam.

"Where do you think I got it?" "I have no idea," I told him honestly.

"Blackjack."

I blinked.

"Gambling? Are you kidding?" "No."

He laughed and tightened his arms around me.

But I couldn't see Gideon as a gambler.

I'd learned, thanks to my mom's third husband, that gambling could become a very nasty and insidious disease that caused total lack of control.

I just couldn't see someone as rigidly controlled as Gideon finding anything appealing about something so dependent on luck and chance.

Then it hit me.

"You count cards."

"When I played," he agreed.

"I don't anymore.

And the contacts I made over card tables were as instrumental as the money I made."

I tried to absorb that information, struggled with it, then let it go for the moment.

"Remind me not to play cards with you."

"Strip poker could be fun."

"For you."

He reached down and squeezed my ass.

"And for you.

You know how I get when you're naked."

I shot a pointed glance down at my fully dressed body.

"And when I'm not naked."

Gideon's grin flashed, dazzling and entirely unapologetic.

"Do you still gamble?" "Every day.

But only in business and with you."

"With me? With our relationship?" His gaze was soft on my face, filled with a sudden tenderness that made my throat tight.

"You're the greatest risk I've ever taken."

His pressed his lips gently to mine.

"And the greatest reward."

* * * When I got to work Monday morning, I felt like things were finally settling back into their natural pre-Corinne rhythm.

Gideon and I were dealing with adjusting to my period, which had never been an issue for either of us in any previous relationship we'd had, but was in ours because sex was how he showed me what he was feeling.

He could say with his body what he couldn't with words, and my lust for him was how I proved my faith in us, something he needed to feel connected to me.

I could tell him I loved him over and over again, and I know it affected him when I did, but he needed the total surrender of my body - a display of trust he knew meant a great deal because of my past - to really believe it.

As he'd told me once, he had been the recipient of many I love yous over the years, but he'd never believed them because they hadn't been backed up with truth, trust, and honesty.

The words meant little to him, which was why he refused to say them to me.

I tried not to let him see how it hurt me that he wouldn't say them.

I figured that was an adjustment I'd have to make to be with him.

"Good morning, Eva."

I glanced up from my desk and found Mark standing by my cubicle.

His slightly crooked smile was always a winner.

"Hey.

I'm ready to roll when you are."

"Coffee first.

You up for a refill?" Grabbing my empty mug off my desk, I stood.

"You bet."

We headed toward the break room.

"You look like you got a tan," Mark said, glancing over at me.

"Yeah, I did a little sun lounging over the weekend.

It was good to be lazy and do nothing.

Actually, that's probably one of my favorite things to do, period."

"I'm envious.

Steven can't sit still for too long.

He always wants to drag me somewhere for something."

"My roommate's the same way.

It's exhausting how he runs around."

"Oh, before I forget."

He gestured for me to enter the break room first.

"Shawna wants you to get in touch.

She's got concert tickets for some new rock band.

I think she wants to see if you'd want them."

I thought of the attractive red- haired waitress I'd met the week before.

She was Steven's sister, and Steven was Mark's longtime partner.

The two men had met in college and had been together ever since.

I really liked Steven.

I was pretty sure I'd really like Shawna, too.

"Are you okay with me reaching out to her?" I had to ask, because she was - for all intents and purposes -  Mark's sister-in-law and Mark was my boss."Of course.

Don't worry.

It won't be weird."

"All right."

I smiled and hoped to add another girlfriend to my new life in New York.

"Thanks."

"Thank me with a cup of coffee," he said, pulling out a mug from the cupboard and handing it to me.

"You make it taste better than I do."

I shot him a look.

"My dad uses that line."

"Must be true, then."

"Must be a standard guy finagle," I shot back.

"How do you and Steven divvy up coffee making?" "We don't."

He grinned.

"There's a Starbucks on the corner by our place."

"I'm sure there's a way to call that cheating, but I haven't had enough caffeine to think of it yet."

I passed over his filled mug to him.

"Which probably means I shouldn't share the idea that just came to me."

"Go for it.

If it really sucks, I can hold it against you forever."

"Gee.

Thanks."

I held my mug between both hands.

"Would it work to market the blueberry coffee like tea instead? You know, the coffee in a chintz teacup and saucer with maybe a scone and some clotted cream in the background? Give it a high-end, midafternoon snack sort of treatment? Throw in a fabulously handsome Englishman to sip it with?" Mark's lips pursed as he thought about it.

"I think I like it.

Let's go run it by the creatives."

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to Las Vegas?" I sighed inwardly at the high note of irritated anxiety in my mother's voice and adjusted my grip on my desk phone receiver.

I'd barely returned my butt to my chair when the phone had rung.

I suspected if I checked my voice mail, I'd find a message or two from her.