“It wasn’t so bad,” he said, surprised that it was true. “I think every time I tell it, it gets easier. The hard part was that it upset them.” He flattened her palm against his cheek and nuzzled into it. “Can you stay for a little while?”
“I was hoping you’d want me to.” Setting her Brutus bag on the floor next to the bed, she placed the dog on top of it, told her “Shazam,” then cuddled up to Gideon’s side. “Kind of missing the hospital bed’s rails,” she chuckled. “This is a tiny bed. I might just fall off.”
Mindful of his sling, he shifted so that his back was to the wall and he pulled her into him. Not having to worry about the IV needle made holding her so much easier. On the other hand, holding her closer made it harder to hide the fact that he was getting very hard, very fast. “Better?”
“Yeah. Much. Does your arm hurt?”
“Some,” he admitted.
“In other words, it’s hurting like a bitch, but you refuse to take any more pain meds.”
“Pretty much. I took some over-the-counter painkillers Irina brought me.”
“Gideon,” she said on a sigh.
“Daisy,” he mimicked, then kissed the top of her head. “I was coming to find you. I can’t sleep without you.”
She lightly stroked down his chest. “I like that.”
“Thought you might,” he muttered.
Her hand continued its downward journey, stroking the crease of his thigh and his groin. He sucked in a breath, his cock starting to throb. Her fingers were so close, and not nearly close enough.
She hummed low in her throat and he held his breath, letting it out on a groan when her fingers finally lightly brushed up his length.
“I like this, too,” she whispered.
He choked out a laugh, which morphed into another groan when her fingers gripped him through his sweats. “Daisy. Please.”
She lifted her head from his shoulder, sliding her free hand under his head and leaning in to brush her lips over his. “What do you want, Gideon?” she asked, her husky voice and her clever fingers sending shivers all over his body.
Cursing the sling that immobilized his right arm, he arched his hips, needing more friction. “Everything.” The word came out sounding desperate. Because suddenly he was desperate. He gripped a fistful of her hair, careful not to hurt her but needing something to hold on to. “Kiss me, Daisy Dawson.”
And she did. Slowly and thoroughly she kissed him, until he thought the top of his head would fly off. It wasn’t a rough kiss, or raw. But it wasn’t gentle, either. When she finally lifted her head, they were both panting and his hips were rolling, his dick craving her touch.
Holding his gaze, she tugged on the drawstring of his sweatpants and slid her hand under the waistband. His body, arched and needy, collapsed back on the bed with a growl.
“Please,” he whispered.
She gripped him hard and kissed him, this time with no gentleness. It was dirty and raw and he loved it.
Too soon she pulled back, her lips swollen and red and gorgeous. “No noise,” she panted, then slid down his body, kissing his chest, his abs, then disappearing under the blanket. He clenched his eyes closed, waiting for it . . . waiting . . .
Her mouth closed over him, hot and wet and amazing. “Oh God,” he moaned. She was alternating a slow, slick glide down with a tight suction on the way back up. It was pleasure, so intense that his brains were . . . gone. “Daisy.”
The heat and suction abruptly stopped. Her head popped out from under the blanket. “I said, no noise. Got it?”
He nodded, probably too eagerly because she grinned at him before disappearing under the blanket again. And . . . He exhaled in relief when she took him back in her mouth. Gently he threaded his fingers through her hair, holding on as she drove him completely insane.
His orgasm Saturday night had been like a bomb blast, hitting with no warning. This one built slowly, starting at the base of his spine, electricity radiating outward until every square inch of his skin was sensitized and aching.
“Daisy,” he rasped. He let go of her hair to pull the blanket away. “Almost there.”
She looked up at him through her lashes, winked once—then took him deeper.
“Fuck,” he groaned, unable to keep it quiet. What had been a slow build suddenly detonated, his body bowing up as he came, lifting off the bed of its own accord as his abs crunched tight. And it kept going and going.
Until finally he fell back, thoroughly and utterly drained. He stared up at the ceiling, blinking as his brain came back online. Then he laughed.
She crawled up the bed, lying on her side with her elbow propped by his ear. She smiled down at him. Her swollen lips were red and wet and . . . so damn sexy.
She traced his goatee with one finger. “Was that an I’m-so-happy laugh? Just letting you know that the right answer is ‘yes.’”
He caught her finger between his lips and sucked it into his mouth for a moment before letting her go. “Well, duh. Yes. But it was also because I was thinking I felt drained. And then the middle schooler that still lurks in my mind said, heh-heh, I was drained.”
She chuckled. “You should let the middle schooler out to play more often. He’s funny.”
He closed his eyes. “I think you shorted out some major fuses.”
“Good.” She sounded amused and . . . content.
He opened his eyes to study her face. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” Her eyes gleamed. “That was truly remarkable, Gideon.”
“Yeah. It was. I didn’t expect it.” He hesitated. “I’m clean. You should have asked.”
“You were just in the hospital. I’m sure they tested you six ways to Tuesday, especially since I was covered in your blood.”
“Still. You shouldn’t be so—” He cut himself off when her brow winged up, a sure sign of annoyance.
“Slutty?” she asked quietly.
“No,” he blurted out. “I was going to say trusting. Some men will lie to you.”
“I’m not with ‘some men,’” she said, way too calmly. “I’m with you.”
He’d made her angry and he wanted to kick his own ass. “I never once thought anything negative. I’m sorry. I’m not . . . I’m a little socially awkward sometimes.”
Her frown softened. “Yes, you are. I don’t trust many people, Gideon, but I won’t go through life suspecting everyone. My father did that and . . . I mean I love him, but . . .” She sighed. “It hurt our family.”
He rested his good arm over his eyes. “I’m sorry, Daisy. I just took the most amazing gift and smashed it.”
“Nah. You just scuffed it a little. It can be buffed out.”
He peeked at her from under his arm. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She ran her fingers over his phoenix tattoo. “I’m not a blushing virgin, Gideon. I enjoyed sex before I met you.”
He sucked in a breath at her light touch, weighing his words. “I’m glad.”
Again the eyebrow lifted, but this time it was curious rather than angry. “Really?”
“Yes. You were able to connect with people in a way that you needed before I was here.”
She smiled. “And now that you’re here?”
He met her eyes, hoping she didn’t bolt. “I don’t want to share you.”
“I’m good with that. Same goes. We’re exclusive until we decide otherwise. Okay?”
“Absolutely okay.” He traced the V of her collar, dipping his finger under her sweater until he traced the lace of her bra. “Irina thinks we’re moving too fast.”
Daisy made a face. “I know. She told me the same thing. But then Karl reminded her that he told her that she’d marry him after their first date. She didn’t believe him then.” She laughed. “She said she’s still not sure it’s going to work out.”
Gideon grinned. “I really love those guys.”
“Me too.” She kissed him softly and he could taste himself on her lips. And damn if he wasn’t getting hard again.
“What can I do for you?”
“Right now? Recover from a gunshot wound. I probably shouldn’t have done what I did, in hindsight. But I hope you’ll be able to sleep now.”
“Like a baby,” he predicted. “But you’ll stay?”
“Yes.” She got comfortable on his shoulder. “Did I mess up your arm?”
“What arm?” he asked and felt her smile.
“Go to sleep, Gideon.”
His eyes were already growing heavy. “Okay.”
GRANITE BAY, CALIFORNIA
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 9:30 P.M.
It appeared that he was playing the waiting game yet again. He sat in his stolen minivan, down the street from the Sokolov home. Watching.
He wasn’t the only one. There was a black SUV in the driveway whose driver just got out to do a perimeter check. Carrying a rifle. With a scope.
Seemed like the Feds weren’t messing around.
You shouldn’t be here. It’s not worth it. If he checks the license plate, you’re toast.
It was a good point. Especially since the minivan he’d stolen clearly did not belong in this neighborhood. He could have stolen a newer model, but they all had GPS. He was basically a blinking neon light saying SEARCH ME.
You have time. They don’t know who you are. You’ve left no physical evidence behind. Well, except for the skin scrapings. The car he’d left up in Macdoel had been burned to a crisp. Even if they had found any blood, the heat would have rendered it useless.