Captivated By You (Crossfire, Book 4)

“GOD, THOSE TWO are so sweet,” Shawna said, watching Will and Natalie sing “I Got You, Babe” on the stage.

“They’re giving me diabetes.” Manuel stood with his drink. “Excuse me, everyone. I see something interesting.”

Gideon’s voice near my ear was laced with amusement. “Say good-bye, angel. We won’t be seeing him again.”

I followed his line of sight and saw a pretty brunette giving Manuel a blatant once-over.

“Bye, Manuel!” I yelled after him, waving. Then I leaned into Gideon, who was semisprawled on the expensive leather upholstery. “How come all the guys you work with are hot?”

“Are they?” he drawled, nuzzling my neck and along the curve of my ear. “Maybe they won’t be working with me much longer.”

“Oh God.” I looked up at the starry sky. “Whatever, caveman.”

His arm tightened around my hips, tugging me closer so that I was pressed fully against him from knee to shoulder. Joy spread through me. After all the crap we’d been through the day before, it was so awesome to just enjoy each other.

Megumi leaned over the low coffee table that filled the center of the rectangular seating area we occupied. Bordered by two sectionals, the VIP section held our entire party comfortably. “When are you getting up there to make fools of yourselves?” she asked.

“Um … never.”

It had taken a few drinks and Cary’s undivided attention to make Megumi comfortable enough to enjoy herself. My best friend had kicked things off with a rousing rendition of “Only the Good Die Young,” and then he’d dragged Megumi up there to sing “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life.” She’d come back to the table glowing.

I owed Cary big-time for taking care of her. Even better, he seemed to have no intention of ditching us to cruise the place for conquests like Manuel had. I was really proud of him.

“Come on, Eva,” Steven coaxed. “You picked this place. You have to sing.”

“Your sister picked this place,” I shot back, looking to her. Shawna just shrugged innocently.

“She’s sung twice!” he countered.

I deflected. “Mark hasn’t sung anything.”

My boss shook his head. “I’m doing you all a favor, trust me.”

“You’re telling me. Squealing tires sound more lyrical than I do!”

Arnoldo pushed the tablet with the song choices my way. It was the first time all night he’d made any overture toward me, aside from saying hello at the entrance. He’d spent most of the evening focused on Magdalene and Gage, which I tried not to take as a personal snub.

“No fair,” I complained. “You’re all ganging up on me! Gideon hasn’t sung yet, either.”

I glanced at my husband. He shrugged. “I’ll go up if you will.”

Astonishment widened my eyes. I’d never heard Gideon sing, had never even imagined it. Singers exposed and expressed emotion with their voices. Gideon’s still waters ran very deep.

“Hell, you gotta do it now,” Cary said, reaching over to tap the menu open at a random page.

My stomach twisted a little. I looked helplessly at the songs in front of me. One jumped out and I stared at it.

Taking a deep breath, I stood. “Okay. Just remember, you all asked for this. I don’t want to hear any shit about how bad I suck.”

Gideon, who’d risen to his feet when I had, pulled me close and murmured in my ear, “I think you suck excellently, angel.”

I elbowed him in the ribs. His low laughter followed me as I made my way to the stage. I loved hearing that sound, loved spending time with him when we forgot our troubles and had fun with people who loved us. We were married, but we still had so much dating to catch up on, so many nights with friends yet to experience. Tonight was just the first of many, I hoped.

I regretted threatening the fragile peace with my song choice. But not enough to change my mind.

I high-fived Will as he and Natalie passed me on the way back to our group. I could have input my song choice into the tablet at the table, the same way we placed our food and drink orders, but I didn’t want Gideon seeing the title.

Plus, I’d noticed that every other party in the place had to wait for their turn in the queue, but our selections were fast-tracked. I was hoping that adding my name to the list in person would buy me some time to build up the courage I needed.

I should’ve known better. When I gave the hostess my selection, she typed it into the system and said, “Okay, stay right here. You’re next.”

“You’re kidding.” I glanced back at our table. Gideon winked at me.

Ooh, he was going to pay for that later.

The chick on the stage singing “Diamonds” wrapped it up, and the place exploded into applause. She’d been decent, but really, the live band made up for a lot of faults. They were really good. I had my fingers crossed that they’d be good enough for me, too.

I was shaking when I climbed the short steps to the stage. When the loud whistles and cheers erupted from our table, I couldn’t help but laugh despite my nervousness. I gripped the mic in its stand and the beat kicked in immediately. The familiar song, one I loved, gave me the boost I needed to start.

Looking at Gideon, I warbled my way through the opening lyrics, telling him he was amazing. Even over the music, I could hear the laughter at my horrible voice. My own table erupted with it, but I had expected that.

I’d chosen “Brave.” I had to be it to sing it—that, or crazy.

I stayed focused on my husband, who wasn’t laughing or smiling. He just stared intently at my face as I told him via Sara Bareilles’s lyrics that I wanted to see him speak up and be brave.

The catchy composition plus the skill of the band backing me began to win over the crowd, who started singing along, more or less. My heart strengthened my voice, giving power to the message meant only for Gideon.

He needed to stop holding his silence. He needed to tell his family the truth. Not for me or for them, but for him.

When the song ended, my friends surged to their feet in applause and I grinned, energized. I gave a lavish bow and laughed when the strangers at the tables in front of the stage joined in the unearned praise. I knew my strengths. My singing voice certainly wasn’t one of them.

“That was fuckin’ awesome!” Shawna shouted when I got back to the table, grabbing me in a fierce hug. “You owned that, girl.”

“Remind me to pay you later,” I said dryly, feeling my face heat as the rest of our party kicked in with praise. “You guys are full of it.”

“Ah, baby girl,” Cary drawled, his green eyes bright with laughter, “you can’t be good at everything. It’s a relief to know you’re flawed like the rest of us.”

I stuck my tongue out at him and picked up the fresh vodka cranberry sitting in front of my spot.

“Your turn, lover boy,” Arash goaded, grinning at Gideon.

My husband nodded, then looked at me. His face held no hint to his thoughts, and I began to worry. There was no softness on his lips or in his eyes, nothing to give me a clue.

And then some idiot started singing “Golden.”

Gideon stiffened, his jaw visibly tightening. Reaching for his hand, I gave it a squeeze and felt a bit of relief when he squeezed back.

He kissed my cheek and headed to the stage, cutting through the crowd with easy command. I watched him go, seeing other women’s heads turn to follow him. I was biased, of course, but knew for a certainty that he was the most striking man in the room.

Seriously, it should be criminal for a man to be that sexy.

I looked at Arash and Arnoldo. “Have either of you heard him sing?”

Arnoldo shook his head.

Arash laughed. “Hell, no. With any luck, he’ll sound like you. Like Cary says, he can’t be good at everything or we’d all have to hate him.”

The guy onstage wrapped it up. A moment later, Gideon walked on. For some reason, my heart started pounding as badly as it had when I was up there. My palms grew clammy and I wiped them on my skirt.

I was afraid of what it would be like to watch Gideon up there. Much as I hated to think it, Brett was a hard act to follow and hearing “Golden,” even sung by someone who shouldn’t ever have access to a microphone, brought those two worlds too close together.

Gideon grabbed the mic and pulled it off the stand as if he’d done the move a thousand times before. The women in the audience went crazy, yelling about how hot he was and making suggestive remarks I chose to ignore. The man was delicious physically, but his commanding, confident presence was the real kicker.

He looked like a man who knew how to fuck a woman senseless. And God, did he ever.

“This one,” he said, “is for my wife.”

With a pointed glance, Gideon signaled the band to start. An instantly recognizable bass beat ratcheted up my pulse.

“Lifehouse!” Shawna crowed, clapping her hands. “I love them!”

“He’s calling you his wife already!” Megumi yelled, leaning toward me. “How freakin’ lucky are you?”

I didn’t glance at her. I couldn’t. My attention was riveted on Gideon as he looked directly at me and sang, telling me in a lusciously raspy voice that he was desperate for change and starving for truth.

He was answering my song.

My eyes burned even as my heart began to beat with a different rhythm. Had I thought he’d be unemotional? My God, he was killing me, baring his soul in the rough timbre of his voice.

“Holy fuck,” Cary said, his eyes on the stage. “The man can sing.”

I was hanging by a moment, too, hanging on to every word, hearing his message about chasing after me and falling more in love. I shifted in my seat, turned on beyond bearing.

Gideon dominated the attention of everyone in the bar. Of all the voices we’d heard that night, his was truly professional grade. He stood in the single spotlight, feet set a foot apart, dressed elegantly while singing a rock song, and he made it work so well I couldn’t imagine it sung any other way. There was no comparison to Brett, not in Gideon’s delivery or my reaction to it.

I was on my feet before I knew it, making my way through the crowd to get to him. Gideon finished the song and the bar went ballistic, cutting off my route to him. I became lost in the crush, too short to see beyond the shoulders around me.

He found me, pushing his way through to catch me up in his arms. His mouth claimed mine, kissing me roughly, inciting a new round of catcalls and cheers. In the periphery, I heard the band begin a new song. I practically climbed up Gideon, panting in his ear, “Now!”

I didn’t have to explain. Setting me down, he grabbed my hand and led me across the bar and back through the kitchen to the service elevator. I plastered myself against him before the doors closed behind us, but he was pulling out his phone and lifting it to his ear, tilting his head back as my mouth slid feverishly over his throat.

“Bring the limo around,” he ordered gruffly, and then the phone was back in his pocket and he was kissing me back with all the passion he’d once kept locked inside.

Ravenous, I devoured him, catching his lower lip between my teeth and tasting it with swift lashes of my tongue. He groaned when I pushed him against the elevator’s padded wall, my hands running down his chest to cup the heft of his erection in my palms.

“Eva … Christ.”

We stopped descending and he exploded into movement, grabbing me by the elbow and pushing me ahead of him out the doors with brisk, impatient strides. We exited from a service hallway into the lobby, once again maneuvering through a crowd until we stepped out into the summer night heat. The limo idled in the street.

Angus jumped out, quickly pulling the rear door open.

I scrambled in with Gideon crowding in behind me.

“Don’t go far,” he told Angus.

We settled onto the bench seat with a foot of distance between us, both of us looking anywhere but at each other as the privacy partition slowly rose and the limo began to move.

The moment the divider locked into place, I fell back against the seat and yanked my skirt up, brazenly tearing off my own clothes in my eagerness to be fucked.

As Gideon dropped to his knees on the floorboard, his hands went to his waistband, opening his slacks.

I shimmied out of my underwear, kicking them off along with my sandals.

“Angel.” His growl had me moaning with anticipation.

“I’m wet. I’m wet,” I chanted, not wanting him to play with me or wait.

Still, he tested me, cupping my sex in his hand. His fingers parted me, stroking over my clit, pushing inside me.

“Jesus, Eva. You’re soaked.”

“Let me ride you,” I begged, pushing away from the seat back. I wanted to set the pace, the depth, the rhythm …

Gideon pushed his pants and boxer briefs down to his knees, then sat on the bench, yanking his shirttails out of the way. His cock rose up thick and long between his thighs, as savagely beautiful as the rest of him.

I slid down to kneel between his legs, stroking his penis with my hands. He was hot and silky soft. My mouth was on him before I formulated the thought. His breath hissed out between his teeth, one hand grasping my ponytail as his head fell back.

His eyes squeezed shut. “Yes.”

I swirled my tongue around the broad head, tasting him, feeling the thick veins throbbing against my palms. Tightening my lips, I pulled off, then sucked him back in.

He groaned and arched upward, pushing into my mouth. “Take it deep.”

I squirmed as I obeyed him, ragingly turned on by his pleasure. Gideon’s eyes opened, his chin lowering so he could take in the sight of me.

“Come here.” The low command sent a shiver of desire through me.

I crawled up his magnificent body, straddling his hips and draping my arms over his shoulders. “You are so fucking hot.”

“Me? You’re burning up, angel.”

I moved my hips to position him. “Wait ’til you feel me from the inside.”

He reached around me and gripped his cock, holding himself steady as I began to sink down. My legs shook as the thick crest of his penis pushed inside me, stretching me.

“Gideon.” The feeling of being taken, possessed, was one I never got over.

Gripping my hips, he supported me. I took him deeper, my eyes on his as they grew heavy. A rumbling sound filled the space between us and I grew slicker, hotter.

It didn’t matter how many times I had him, I always wanted more. More of the way he responded to me, as if nothing had ever felt the same, as if I gave him something he could get nowhere else.

I clung to the back of the seat and rolled my hips, taking a little more. I could feel him pressing against the deepest part of me, but I couldn’t fit all of him. I wanted to. I wanted everything he had.

“Our first time,” he said hoarsely, watching me. “You rode me right here, drove me out of my mind. You blew the top of my fucking head off.”

“It was so good,” I breathed, dangerously close to coming. He was so thick, so hard. “Ah, God. It’s better now.”

His fingers dug into my hips. “I want you more now.”

Gasping, I pressed my temple to his. “Help me.”

“Hold on.” Yanking my hips down, he thrust upward, shoving into me. “Take it, Eva. Take it all.”

I cried out and ground into him, moving on instinct, taking the last of him.

“Yes … yes …” I gasped, slamming my hips into his, pumping my sex up and down the rigid length of his erection.

Gideon’s face was harsh with lust, brutally etched with his need. “I’m going to come so hard for you,” he promised darkly. “You’ll feel me in you all night.”

The sound of his voice … the way he’d looked onstage … I’d never been so excited. He wasn’t the only one who’d be coming hard.

His head fell back against the seat, his chest heaving, harsh sounds of pleasure scraping from his throat. His hands released me, clenching into fists against the seat. He let me fuck him the way I needed to, let me use him.

Arching back, I climaxed with a cry, my entire body shaking, my sex grasping, rippling along his cock. My rhythm faltered, my vision blackened. An endless moan poured out of me, the relief dizzying.

The world shifted and I was on my back, Gideon rising over me, his arm hooking beneath my left leg to lift it to his shoulder. He dug his feet into the floorboard, thrusting again and again, sinking deep. So deep.

I writhed, the feel of him so good it hurt.

He kept me pinned, opened and defenseless, using me as I’d used him, his control shattered by the need to orgasm. The power of his body as he pounded into me, the force with which he drove his cock into my tender sex, had me quivering on the verge again.

“I love you,” I moaned, my hands stroking down his flexing thighs.

He growled my name and started coming, his teeth clenching, his hips pressed tight to my own, screwing deep. It set me off, the feel of him coming inside me.

“So good,” he groaned, rocking into the spasms of my sex.

We strained together, grasping at each other.

He buried his face in my throat. “Love you.”

Tears stung my eyes. He said the words so rarely.

“Tell me again,” I begged, holding on to him.

His mouth found mine. “I love you …”

“MORE,” I demanded, licking my lips.

Gideon glanced over his shoulder at me. Bacon sizzled in the pan in front of him and my mouth watered for another slice. “And here I’d thought two packs of bacon would last us all weekend.”

“Grease is a must after a night of drinking,” I told him, wiping some off my plate with my fingertip and lifting it to my mouth. “When you’re not hung over, that is.”

“Which I am,” Cary muttered, walking into the kitchen in just his jeans, which he hadn’t bothered buttoning all the way. “Got any beer?”

Gideon pointed at the fridge with his tongs. “Bottom drawer.”

I shook my head at my best friend. “Hair of the dog this morning?”

“Hell, yeah. My head feels like it’s splitting in two.” Cary pulled a beer out and joined me at the island. He popped the cap off and tipped the bottle back, gulping down half the contents at once.

“How’d you sleep?” I asked, mentally crossing my fingers.

He’d stayed the night in the attached single-bedroom apartment, and I hoped he loved it. It had all the beautiful prewar details of Gideon’s penthouse and was furnished similarly. I knew Cary’s style was more contemporary, but he couldn’t fault the view of Central Park. All the rest could be changed, if he just said the word.

He lowered the bottle from his mouth. “Like the dead.”

“Do you like the apartment?”

“Of course. Who wouldn’t?”

“Do you want to live there?” I persisted.

Cary gave me a lopsided smile. “Yeah, baby girl. It’s a dream. Thank you for the pity fuck, Gideon.”

My husband turned away from the stove with a plate of bacon in his hand. “There is neither pity nor fucking included in the offer,” he said dryly. “Otherwise, you’re welcome.”

I clapped my hands. “Yay! I’m stoked.”

Gideon snagged a piece of bacon and stuck it in his mouth. Leaning forward, I parted my lips. He bent toward me, letting me bite off the end.

“Come on,” Cary groaned. “I’m fighting nausea as it is.”

I shoved him gently. “Shut up.”

He grinned and finished his beer. “Gotta give you guys a hard time. Who else is going to stop you two from singing ‘I Got You, Babe’ in a few years?”

Thinking of Will and Natalie made me smile. I’d discovered even more to like about Will and found that I got along well with his girl, too. “Aren’t they adorable? They’ve been together since high school.”

“Exactly my point,” he drawled. “Spend enough years with someone and either you start bickering or you fall down the lovey-dovey hole, never to be seen again.”

“Mark and Steven have been together for years, too,” I argued. “They don’t fight or moon at each other.”

He shot me a look. “They’re gay, Eva. No estrogen in the mix to cause drama.”

“Oh my God. You sexist pig! You did not just say that.”

Cary glanced at Gideon. “You know I’m right.”

“And with that,” Gideon declared, grabbing three strips of bacon, “I’m out.”

“Hey!” I complained after him, as he exited to the living room.

My best friend laughed. “Don’t worry. He hitched himself to your brand of female.”

I glared at him as I munched another piece of bacon. “I’m giving you a pass, because I owe you for last night.”

“It was fun. Megumi’s good people.” His humor fled, his face darkening. “I’m sorry she’s going through what she is.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

“You make any decisions about how you’re going to help others like her?”

I set my elbows on the island. “I’m going to talk to Gideon about working with his Crossroads Foundation.”

“Hell. Why didn’t you think of that before?”

“Because … I’m stubborn, I guess.” I glanced over my shoulder at the living room, then lowered my voice. “One of the things Gideon likes about me is that I don’t always do everything he wants just because he wants it. He’s not like Stanton.”

“And you don’t want to be like your mom. Does this mean you’re keeping your maiden name?”

“No way. It means a lot to Gideon for me to become Eva Cross. Besides, it sounds kick-ass.”

“It does.” He tapped the end of my nose with his finger. “I’m here for you when you need me.”

Sliding off the stool, I hugged him. “Same goes.”

“I’m taking you up on that, obviously.” His chest heaved with a deep sigh. “Big changes happening, baby girl. You ever get scared?”

I looked up at him, feeling the affinity that had gotten us both through some hard times. “More than I let myself think about.”

“I have to run to the office,” Gideon interjected, stepping back into the kitchen wearing a Yankees ball cap. He’d kept the same gray T-shirt on but had swapped out his pajama bottoms for sweats. A ring of keys twirled around his finger. “I won’t be long.”

“Is everything all right?” I asked, backing away from Cary. My husband was wearing his game face, the one that told me his mind was already on whatever he was going to deal with.

“Everything’s fine.” He came to me and gave me a quick kiss. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Ireland won’t be here ’til six.”

He left. I stared after him.

What was important enough to drag him away from me on a weekend? Gideon was possessive about a lot of things when it came to me, but our time together topped the list. And the key-twirling thing was kind of weird. Gideon wasn’t a man given to wasted movement. The only times I’d seen him fidget were when he was completely relaxed or the opposite—ready to throw down.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something from me. As usual.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Cary said, grabbing a bottled water out of the fridge. “You want to watch a movie when I get out?”

“Sure,” I said absently. “Sounds like a plan.”

I waited until he’d gone back into the attached apartment, then went to find my phone.