Bared to You (Crossfire 01)

I couldn’t resist the soft plea in his eyes. “I meant every word, Gideon.”


“I’ll make you say it again,” he threatened in a seductive purr. “You’ll scream it by the time I’m done with you.”

I grinned and backed away. “Get back to work, fiend.”

“I’ll give you a lift home at five.” He watched me move to the door. “I want your cunt naked and wet when you come down to the car. If you touch yourself to get there, don’t make yourself come or there will be consequences.”

Consequences. A little shiver moved through me, but it carried a level of fear I could deal with. I trusted Gideon to know just how far to push me. “Will you be hard and ready?”

A wry smile twisted his lips. “When am I not, with you? Thank you for today, Eva. Every minute of it.”

I blew him a kiss and watched his eyes darken. The look on his face stayed with me the rest of the day.

It was six o’clock before I made it back to my apartment in a state of well-fucked dishevelment. I’d known what I was in for when I found Gideon’s limousine at the curb after work instead of the Bentley. He’d damn near tackled me as I climbed into the back; then proceeded to demonstrate his phenomenal oral skills before nailing me into the seat with vigorous enthusiasm.

I was grateful that I kept in shape. Otherwise, Gideon’s insatiable sexual appetite combined with his seemingly endless stamina might’ve exhausted me by now. Not that I was complaining. Just an observation.

Clancy was already waiting for me in the lobby of my apartment building when I came rushing in. If he noted my hideously wrinkled dress, flushed cheeks, and messy hair, he didn’t point it out. I changed swiftly upstairs and we took off for Parker’s studio. I hoped the orientation would start out easy because my legs were still a bit jellied from two toe-curling orgasms.

By the time we arrived at the converted warehouse in Brooklyn, I was excited and ready to learn. About a dozen students were engaged in various exercises with Parker overseeing and offering encouragement from the edge of the mats. When he saw me, he came over and directed me to a far corner of the sparring area where we could work one-on-one.

“So…how’s it going?” I asked, to break my own tension.

He smiled, showing off a very interesting and arresting face. “Nervous?”

“A little.”

“We’re going to work on your physical strength and stamina, as well as your awareness. I’m also going to start training you not to freeze or hesitate in unexpected confrontations.”

Before we began, I thought I had pretty good physical strength and stamina, but I learned both could be better. We started out with a brief introduction to the equipment and layout of the space, and then moved on to an explanation of both fighting and neutral/passive stances. We warmed up with basic bodyweight calisthenics; then progressed to “tagging,” where we tried to tag each other’s shoulders and knees while standing face-to-face and blocking countermoves.

Parker was amazing at tagging, of course, but I started to get the hang of it. The majority of the time, however, was spent covering groundwork and I really sunk my teeth into that. I knew very well what it was like to be down and at a disadvantage.

If Parker noted my underlying vehemence, he didn’t comment on it.

When Gideon showed up at my apartment later that evening, he found me soaking my aching body in my bathtub. Although I could tell he was fresh from a shower after his own workout with his personal trainer, he stripped and slid into the bath behind me, cradling me with his arms and legs. I whimpered as he rocked me.

“That good, huh?” he teased, catching my earlobe in his teeth.

“Who knew rolling around for an hour with a hot guy could be so exhausting?” Cary had been right about Krav Maga causing bruises; I could see a few shadows blooming beneath my skin already and we hadn’t even gotten to the hard stuff yet.

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