He exhaled harshly. “A gift, then.”
Only I knew what it meant for Gideon to view a sexual act as a gift. For him, sex had previously been about pain and degradation or lust and necessity. Now, with me, it was about pleasure and love. “Always.”
“Good. Because I treasure you, Eva, and what we have. Even our driving urge to fuck each other constantly is precious to me, because it matters.”
I sagged into the column, admitting to myself that I’d fallen into an old destructive habit—I’d exploited sexual attraction to ease my insecurities. If Gideon was lusting after me, he couldn’t be lusting after anyone else. How did he always know what was going on in my mind?
“Yes,” I breathed, closing my eyes. “It matters.”
There’d been a time when I’d turned to sex to feel affection, confusing momentary desire with genuine caring. Which was why I now insisted on having some sort of friendly framework in place before I went to bed with a man. I never again wanted to roll out of a lover’s bed feeling worthless and dirty.
And I sure as hell didn’t want to cheapen what I shared with Gideon just because I was irrationally scared of losing him.
It hit me then that I was off balance. I had this sick feeling in my gut, like something awful was going to happen.
“You can have what you want after work, angel.” His voice deepened, grew raspier. “In the meantime, enjoy lunch with your co-worker. I’ll be thinking about you. And your mouth.”
“I love you, Gideon.”
It took a couple of deep breaths after I hung up to compose myself enough to join Megumi again. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Everything all right?”
“Yes. Everything’s fine.”
“Things still hot and heavy with you and Gideon Cross?” She glanced at me with a slight smile.
“Umm . . .” Oh yes. “Yes, that’s fine, too.” And I wished desperately that I could talk about it. I wished I could just open the valve and gush about my overwhelming feelings for him. How thoughts of him consumed me, how the feel of him beneath my hands drove me wild, how the passion of his tortured soul cut into me like the sharpest blade.
But I couldn’t. Not ever. He was too visible, too well known. Private tidbits about his life were worth a small fortune. I couldn’t risk it.
“He sure is,” Megumi agreed. “Damn fine. Did you know him before you started working here?”
“No. Although I suppose we would have met eventually.” Because of our pasts. My mother gave generously to many abused children’s charities, as did Gideon. It was inevitable that Gideon and I would’ve crossed paths at some point. I wondered what that meeting would have been like—him with a gorgeous brunette on his arm and me with Cary. Would we have had the same visceral reaction to each other from a distance as we’d had up close in the Crossfire lobby?
He’d wanted me the moment he saw me on the street.
“I wondered.” Megumi pushed through the revolving lobby door. “I read that it was serious between you two,” she went on when I joined her outside on the sidewalk. “So I thought maybe you’d known him before.”
“Don’t believe everything you read on those gossip blogs.”
“So it’s not serious?”
“I didn’t say that.” It was too serious at times. Painfully, brutally so.
She shook her head. “God . . . listen to me pry. Sorry. Gossip is one of my vices. So are extremely hot men like Gideon Cross. I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to hook up with a guy whose body screams sex like that. Tell me he’s awesome in bed.”
I smiled. It was good to hang out with another girl. Not that Cary couldn’t also be appreciative of a hot guy, but nothing beat girl talk. “You won’t hear me complaining.”