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Sadness creeps into Gideon’s voice as he says, “Adrian used to love the Central Park playgrounds when he was a kid. We’d go to a different one every time. Some of my best memories with him are there.”
I reach over, pushing the glass of ice closer to his side of the island. “I think you need whiskey more than I do. And I told you, I don’t want to drink alone.”
His gaze locks on mine, making my blood rush faster. “If I have a drink with you, I’m going to kiss you. And if I kiss you, I’m not going to want to stop.”
My nipples poke shamelessly against the silky fabric of my dress in response to his words, giving me an idea.
“That would be terrible,” I murmur as I lean forward. The neck of my borrowed gown falls forward, baring more of my already scantily covered breasts. Gideon’s focus drops to my chest, heat flaring in his eyes that fills me with a dizzying mixture of longing and guilt.
I shouldn’t be teasing him, flirting with him. But the more I think about everything Adrian has said about his father over the past year, the less I feel he deserves the right to stand between us. Yes, it sounds like he was manipulated by his mother, but he’s not a child anymore. He’s old enough to know better than to treat a man who’s clearly eager for a meaningful relationship with his son like an irritating inconvenience.
Or an ATM.
It honestly disgusts me.
I hold on to that feeling, letting it banish my guilt as I trace my clavicle with one finger. “Really terrible,” I repeat. I catch one spaghetti strap on my manicured nail and guide it down over my shoulder until my right breast is completely bare to his gaze.
Gideon hisses in a breath, his jaw clenching. “One night. I know that’s what we said before, but I really can’t let this go any further. I wish I could, but…”
“One night,” I echo, my panties already soaked. Right now, I’d say yes if he offered me five minutes. I’m pathetic when it comes to this man, so desperate for his touch that before I know it, I’m drawing my dress over my head and dropping it to the glossy wood floor. When I’m in nothing but my panties and the kitten-soft thigh-high stockings I’m so grateful I let Noelle talk me into, I take a step back from the island and nod to my left. “I assume the bedroom’s that way?”
“Fuck the bedroom,” he mutters.
A beat later, he’s sliding up and over the island in one smooth motion that reminds me how much I love the way he moves. His confidence, his control, the way his strong muscles flex beneath his clothes—everything about him turns me into a puddle of boneless desire.
seventeen
GIDEON
I pull her against me, urging her thighs up and around my waist.
She obeys my unspoken direction without hesitation, twining her arms around my neck as our mouths collide. I kiss her hard, one hand braced under her ass, the other fisted in the hair at the nape of her neck, so starved for her, I can’t hold back.
Sydney matches my intensity, groaning against my lips as our tongues dance and her breath comes faster. “I thought I was exaggerating it in my memory,” she says between kisses as I carry her across the living room toward the master bedroom. “I kept telling myself it wasn’t as hot as I remembered. That there was no way you could make me feel like I’m going to explode with just a kiss.”
“But it’s not,” I rasp, squeezing her bottom tighter as we reach the bed. “And you do the same thing to me, butterfly. I need to be inside you. We’ll go slow the second time. Are you wet for me, or should I get the lube?”
“I’m so wet,” she whispers, her nails raking down my chest as I set her on her feet, making my cock jerk in my pants. “I’ve been wet since you touched my hand at the coffee shop. See?” She takes my hand, guiding it down the front of her silky little panties.
I slide over her small patch of hair to her sex and nearly melt into a puddle at her feet. “Fuck, baby,” I say, driving my fingers into her dripping heat, balls dragging between my legs when she cries out and spreads her thighs, welcoming my invasion. “I love feeling how much you want me.”
“Need you,” she corrects, tearing at the buttons on my vest before moving on to my belt buckle. “I need you so much, Gideon. A vibrator isn’t the same. I can’t come the way I do when I’m with you.”
“You’ve been touching yourself?” I ask as I help her dispose of my clothes.
“All the time,” she says, her heated gaze lifting to mine as she shoves my pants down around my thighs. “And I always think of you. Of the way you made me feel wild and safe at the same time.”
“You’re always safe with me, baby,” I promise her, before adding in my “be a good girl” voice, “Now get out of those panties and get on the bed. Leave the stockings on. I want to fuck you with them on.”
She obeys with a breathy sigh of excitement that ricochets through my chest. This is how it should be with a lover—hot and easy, filthy and sweet. Even before I roll on a condom and join her on the bed, guiding her knees up and out so we can both watch me fill her, inch by inch, I know this won’t be the last time. Not tonight, and probably not tomorrow, either.
It’s too perfect with her. She’s too perfect.
She wraps her legs around my hips, crying out as I slide the last inch in to fill her, her hands trembling as they skim down my back. “Yes. God, Gideon. I’ve missed you like a part of me.”
“Every damned day,” I agree, kissing my way down her throat as I pull back and glide home again. “I kept wishing we’d had more time. There are so many other ways I wanted to give you pleasure.”
“Like on top again?” she asks, a hint of shyness in her voice. “I really liked on top last time.”
