One with You (Crossfire 5)

“Let’s leave the heels on,” he murmured, straightening to his full height. His eyes were so brilliantly blue they reminded me of the water we’d skinny-dipped in when we married.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and he lifted me, carrying me to the bedroom.

“And some of those little round cheese puff breads,” I told Gideon, who relayed the addition to room service in Portuguese.

Lying prone on the bed facing the open sliding doors to the balcony, I kicked my legs up behind me, still wearing the fuck-me shoes. But nothing else. I rested my chin on my crossed arms. The warm ocean breeze felt good on my skin, cooling the sweat that covered every inch of me. The fan over the bed, with its mahogany blades carved into the shape of palm fronds, swirled lazily above.

I took a deep breath and smelled sex and Gideon.

Hehung up and the mattress dipped as he moved toward me, his lips brushing over my ass, then along my spine to my shoulder. He sprawled beside me, propping his head in one hand. The other stroked up and down my back.

I turned to look at him. “How many languages do you know?”

“A little of many and a lot of a few.”

“Hmm.” I arched into his touch.

He kissed my shoulder again. “I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured. “Glad I stayed.”

“I occasionally have good ideas.”

“So do I.” The lascivious gleam in his eyes told me exactly what he was thinking about.

He hadn’t slept all night, then super-slow-fucked me for nearly two hours. He’d come three times, the first time so hard he’d growled. Loudly. I knew the sound must have carried out the open windows. I’d orgasmed just hearing it. And he was ready to go again. He was always ready. Lucky me.

I rolled to my side, facing him. “Does it take two women to wear you out?”

Gideon’s face shuttered instantly. “I’m not going there.”

I touched his face. “Hey. It was a joke, baby. A bad one.”

He rolled to his back and grabbed a pillow, putting it between us. Then he turned his head toward me, a frown between his brows. “There used to be this … emptiness. Inside me,” he said quietly. “You called it a void. Said you filled it. You did.”

Listening, I just waited. He was talking. Sharing. It was hard for him and he didn’t like it. But he loved me more.

“I was waiting for you.” He brushed the hair back from my cheek. “A dozen women couldn’t have done what you did. But … Christ.” He ran both hands through his hair. “Distractions made it easier not to think about it.”

“I can make that happen,” I purred, wanting him to be happy and playful again. “I can make you not think about anything.”

“That emptiness is gone. You’re there.”

Leaning over him, I kissed him. “I’m right here, too.”

He shifted, rising to his knees and scooping me up, dropping me onto the pillow so that my ass was lifted into the air.

“This is how I want you.”

I looked at him over my shoulder. “You remember room service is coming, right?”

“They said forty-five to sixty minutes.”

“You’re the boss. They won’t take that long.”

He moved, positioning himself between my legs. “I told them to take an hour.”

I laughed. I’d thought lunch was a break. Apparently, only the phone call was.

He grabbed my butt cheeks in both hands and squeezed, kneading. “God, you have the most amazing ass. It’s the perfect cushion for doing this …”

Holding my hips, he slid inside me. A long, slow glide. He groaned with masculine pleasure and my toes curled in my shoes.

“My God.” I dropped my forehead to the bed and moaned. “You’re so hard.”

His lips pressed to my shoulder. He rolled his hips, stroking inside me, pushing deep enough to cause the tiniest bit of pain. “You excite me,” he said roughly. “I can’t turn it off. I don’t want to.”

“Don’t.” I arched my back, pushing up into his easy, measured thrusts. That was his mood today. Gentle. Indulging. Making love. “Don’t stop.”

His arms bracketed me, his palms pressing into the mattress. He nuzzled against me. “I’ll make you a deal, angel. I’ll wear out when you do.”

“Ugh.” I stared at myself in the mirror, shifting from side to side. “It’s never a good idea to put on a bikini after pigging out.”

I tugged at the bandeau top of the emerald green swimsuit Gideon had picked up in the lobby shop, then tried to rearrange the fit of the bottom.

He appeared behind me, looking sexy and yummy in a pair of black board shorts. His arms came around me from behind, hefting the weight of my breasts in his palms. “You look amazing. I want to peel this off you with my teeth.”

“Do it.” Why go to the beach? We’d been to the beach last weekend.

“Do you still want pictures of us here?” His gaze met mine in the mirror. “If not, I’m good with tossing you back in the bed and having my way with you again.”

I chewed my lower lip, debating.

He pulled me back against him. Without my heels on, he could set his chin on the crown of my head. “Can’t decide? Okay, we’ll go down to the beach, just so you don’t regret not going later. Thirty minutes … an hour … then we’ll come back up until we have to leave.”

I melted. He was always thinking about me and what I needed. “I love you so much.”

The look that came over his face nearly stopped my heart. “You believe me,” he whispered. “Always.”

Turning my head, I pressed my cheek against his chest. “Always.”

“It’s a beautiful picture,” my mother whispered, keeping her voice down because the guys were all sleeping. The jet’s cabin lights were dimmed, the men all reclined in their seats. “I just wish it didn’t show so much of your derriere.”

I smiled, my gaze on the tablet in her hand. Vientos Cruzados Barra had photographers on staff to cover the many events, conventions, and weddings that took place on the beautiful property. Gideon had arranged for one to photograph us on the beach, having them shoot from a distance so that I wasn’t even aware.

The previously released photos of us in Westport had Gideon pinning me beneath him with the surf lapping at our legs. The new photos were of us in the sun, with him sprawled on his back and me lying atop him, my arms crossed over his abs and my chin on my hands. We were talking, my gaze on his face as he looked at me and ran his fingers through my hair. Yes, the Brazilian cut of my bikini meant my ass was on display, but what really stood out was the intensity of Gideon’s focus on me and the easy, comfortable familiarity between us.

My mom looked at me. There was a sadness in her eyes I couldn’t understand. “I had hoped you two would have a quiet, normal life. But the world isn’t going to let that happen.”

The photo had gone viral shortly after it was posted to a media site. Speculation was rampant. How could I be with Gideon in Rio and be okay with him fucking two other women? Was our sex life that kinky? Or maybe it wasn’t Gideon Cross in the photo at the club.

Before he’d fallen asleep, Gideon had told me his public relations team was working around the clock, fielding calls and managing his social media. As of today, the official answers were simply to confirm that I had been in Rio with Gideon. He said he’d handle the rest personally when he got home, although he was cagey about how he was going to do that.

“You’re being secretive,” I’d accused, without heat.

“For now,” he had agreed with a faint smile.

I put my hand over my mom’s. “It’s going to be okay. We won’t always be so interesting to people. And we’re going away for a month after the wedding. That’s nearly a lifetime with no news about us. The media will move on.”

“I hope so,” she sighed. “You’re getting married on Saturday. I can’t believe it. There’s still so much to do.”

Saturday. Only a handful of days away. I didn’t think it was possible for Gideon and me to feel any more married than we already did, but it would be nice to say our vows with our families watching.