Bared to You

Fantastic. Wonderful.
Amazing. So damn sexy…
In the end, I went with
the lame, “I like the way you look.”
His brow arched. “Ah, something you like about
me. Is that a general like of the overall package?
Or just the clothes? Only the sweater? Or maybe
it’s the pants?”
The edge to his tone rubbed me the wrong way.
“And if I say it’s just the sweater?”
“I’ll buy a dozen and wear them every damn
day.”
“That would be a shame.”
“You don’t like the sweater?” He was pissy, his
words coming clipped and fast.
My hands flexed restlessly in my lap. “I love the
sweater, but I also like the suits.”
He stared at me a minute, and then nodded.
“How was your date with B.O.B.?”
Oh hell.
I looked away. It was a lot easier
talking about masturbation over the phone. Doing

---

it while squirming under that piercing blue stare
was mortifying. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
He brushed the backs of his fingers over my
cheek and murmured, “You’re blushing.”
I heard the amusement in his voice and swiftly
changed topics. “Do you come here often?”
Shit. Where did that clichéd line come from?
His hand dropped to my lap and caught one of
mine, his fingers curling into my palm. “When
necessary.”
A quick stab of jealousy made me stiffen. I
glared at him, even though I was mad at myself for
caring either way. “What does that mean? When
you’re on the prowl?”
Gideon’s mouth curved into a genuine smile
that hit me hard. “When expensive decisions need
to be made. I own this club, Eva.”
Of course he did. Jeez.
A pretty waitress set two pinkish-colored iced
drinks in square tumblers on the table. She looked
at Gideon and gave him a flirtatious smile. “Here
you go, Mr. Cross. Two Stoli Elites and cranberry.
Can I get you anything else?”
“That’ll be all for now. Thanks.”
I could totally see that she wanted to get on the
preapproved list and I bristled at that; then I was
distracted by what we’d been served. It was my
beverage of choice when clubbing and what I’d
been drinking all night. My nerves tingled. I
watched him take a drink, swirl it around in his
mouth like a fine wine, and then swallow it. The
working of his throat made me hot, but that was
nothing compared to what the intensity of his stare
did to me.
“Not bad,” he murmured. “Tell me if we made it
right.”
He kissed me. He moved in fast, but I saw it
coming and didn’t turn away. His mouth was cold

---

and flavored with alcohol-laced cranberry.
Delicious. All the chaotic emotion and energy that
had been writhing around inside me abruptly
became too much to contain. I shoved a hand in
his glorious hair and clenched it tight, holding him
still as I sucked on his tongue. His groan was the
most erotic sound I’d ever heard, making the flesh
between my legs tighten viciously.
Shocked by the fury of my reaction, I wrenched
away, gasping.
Gideon followed, nuzzling the side of my face,
his lips brushing over my ear. He was breathing
hard, too, and the sound of the ice in his tumbler
clinking against the glass skittered across my
inflamed senses.
“I need to be inside you, Eva,” he whispered
roughly. “I’m aching for you.”
My gaze fell to my drink on the table, my
thoughts swirling around in my head, a clusterfuck
of impressions and recollections and confusion.
“How did you know?”
His tongue traced the shell of my ear and I
shivered. It felt like every cell in my body was
straining toward his. Resisting him took an
impossible amount of energy, draining me and
making me feel tired.
“Know what?” he asked.
“What I like to drink? What Cary’s name is?”
He inhaled deeply, and then pulled away.
Setting his drink down, he shifted on the sofa and
drew a knee up onto the cushion between us so
that he faced me directly. His arm once again
draped over the sofa back, his fingertips drawing
circles on the curve of my shoulder. “You visited
another of my clubs earlier. Your credit card
popped and your drinks were recorded. And Cary
Taylor is listed on the rental agreement for your
apartment.”

---

The room spun. 
No way…
My cell phone. My
credit card. My fucking apartment. I couldn’t
breathe. Between my mother and Gideon, I felt
claustrophobic.
“Eva. Jesus. You’re white as a ghost.” He
shoved a glass into my hand. “Drink.”
It was the Stoli and cranberry. I pounded it,
draining the tumbler. My stomach churned for a
moment, then settled. “You own the building I live
in?” I gasped.
“Oddly enough, yes.” He moved to sit on the
table, facing me, his legs on either side of mine.
He took my glass and set it aside; then warmed
my chilled hands with his.
“Are you crazy, Gideon?”
His mouth thinned. “Is that a serious question?”
“Yes. Yes, it is. My mom stalks me, too, and she
sees a shrink. Do you have a shrink?”
“Not presently, but you’re driving me crazy
enough to make that a possibility.”
“So this behavior isn’t normal for you?” My heart
was pounding. I could hear the blood rushing past
my eardrums. “Or is it?”
He shoved a hand through his hair, restoring
order to the strands I’d mussed when we’d kissed.
“I accessed information you voluntarily made
available to me.”
“Not to you! Not for what you used it for! That
has to violate some kind of privacy law.” I stared
at him, more confused than ever. “Why would you
do that?”
He had the grace to look disgruntled at least.
“So I can figure you out, damn it.”
“Why don’t you just 
ask
me, Gideon? Is that so
fucking hard for people to do nowadays?”
“It is with you.” He grabbed his drink off the
table and tossed back most of it. “I can’t get you

---

alone for more than a few minutes at a time.”
“Because the only thing you want to talk about is
what you have to do to get laid!”
“Christ, Eva,” he hissed, squeezing my hand.
“Keep your voice down!”
I studied him, taking in every line and plane of
his face. Unfortunately, cataloging the details
didn’t lessen my awe even a tiny bit. I was
beginning to suspect I’d never get over being
dazzled by his looks.
And I wasn’t alone; I’d seen how other women
reacted around him. And he was crazy rich, which
made even old, bald, and paunchy guys attractive.
It was no wonder he was used to snapping his
fingers and scoring an orgasm.
His gaze darted over my face. “Why are you
looking at me like that?”
“I’m thinking.”
“About what?” His jaw tightened. “And I’m
warning you, if you say anything about orifices,
preapprovals, or seminal emissions, I won’t be
held accountable for my actions.”
That almost made me smile. “I want to
understand a few things, because I think it’s
possible I’m not giving you enough credit.”
“I’d like to understand a few things myself,” he
muttered.
“I’m guessing the ‘I want to fuck you’ approach
has a high success rate for you.”
Gideon’s face smoothed into unreadable
impassivity. “I’m not touching that one, Eva.”
“Okay. You want to figure out what it’s going to
take to get me into bed. Is that why you’re here in
this club right now? Because of me? And don’t
say what you think I want to hear.”
His gaze was clear and steady. “I’m here for
you, yes. I arranged it.”
Suddenly the threads the street hawker had

---

been wearing made sense. We’d been hustled by
someone on Cross Industries’s payroll. “Did you
figure that getting me here would get you laid?”
His 
mouth 
twitched 
with 
suppressed
amusement. “There’s always the hope, but I
expected it would take more work than a chance
meeting over drinks.”
“You’re right. So why do it? Why not wait until
Monday lunch?”
“Because you’re out trolling. I can’t do anything
about B.O.B., but I can stop you from picking up
some asshole in a bar. You want to score, Eva,
I’m right here.”
“I’m not trolling. I’m burning off tension after a
stressful day.”
“You’re not the only one.” He fingered one of my
silver chandelier earrings. “So you drink and
dance when you’re tense. I work on the problem
that’s making me tense in the first place.”
His voice had softened, and it stirred an
alarming yearning. “Is that what I am? A problem?”
“Absolutely.” But there was a hint of a smile
around his lips.
I knew that was a lot of the appeal for him.
Gideon Cross wouldn’t be where he was, at such
a young age, if he took “no” gracefully. “What’s
your definition of dating?”
A frown marred the space between his brows.
“Lengthy social time spent with a woman during
which we’re not actively fucking.”
“Don’t you enjoy the company of women?”
The frown turned into a scowl. “Sure, as long as
there aren’t any exaggerated expectations or
excessive demands on my time. I’ve found the
best way to steer clear of those is to have mutually
exclusive sexual relationships and friendships.”
There 
were 
those 
pesky 
“exaggerated
expectations” again. Clearly, those were a

---

sticking point with him. “So, you do have female
friends?”
“Of course.” His legs tightened around mine,
capturing me. “Where are you going with this?”
“You segregate sex from the rest of your life.
You separate it from friendship, work…
everything.”
“I’ve got good reasons for doing that.”
“I’m sure you do. Okay, here are my thoughts.” It
was difficult concentrating when I was so close to
Gideon. “I told you I don’t want to date and I don’t.
My job is priority number one and my personal life
—as a single woman—is a close second. I don’t
want to sacrifice any of that time on a relationship
and there’s really not enough left over to squeeze
in anything steady.”
“I’m right there with you.”
“But I like sex.”
“Good. Have it with me.” His smile was an
erotic invitation.
I shoved his shoulder. “I need a personal
connection with the men I sleep with. It doesn’t
have to be intense or deep, but sex needs to be
more than an emotionless transaction for me.”
“Why?”
I could tell he wasn’t being flippant. As bizarre
as this conversation must be for him, Gideon was
taking it seriously. “Call it one of my quirks, and
I’m not saying that lightly. It pisses me off to feel
used for sex. I feel devalued.”
“Can’t you look at it as