Reflected in You: A Crossfire Novel

panties to touch my clit, the feel of flesh on flesh just what I needed. “Gideon.”
    He lifted his head and watched with dark eyes as he made me come for him. I cried out when the tremors rippled through me, the release of tension after days of deprivation almost too much to bear. But he didn’t let up. He stroked my sex until I came again, until violent shivers racked my body and I squeezed my legs shut to stop the onslaught.
    When he pulled his hand away, I sagged, boneless and breathing heavily. I curled into him, my face pressed into his throat, my arms wrapping around his neck. My heart felt as if it had swelled in my chest. Everything I felt for him, all the torment and love, overwhelmed me. I clawed at him, trying to get closer.
    “Shh.” He held me tighter, squeezing me until it was hard to breathe. “You’re questioning everything and driving yourself crazy.”
    “I hate this,” I whispered. “I shouldn’t need you this much. It’s not healthy.”
    “That’s where you’re wrong.” His heart beat strongly beneath my ear. “And I take responsibility for that. I’ve taken the lead with some things and given it to you with others. That’s left you confused and worried. I’m sorry about that, angel. It’ll be easier moving forward.”
    I leaned back so I could search his face. My breath caught when our eyes met and he stared back at me unflinchingly. I comprehended the difference then—there was a calm, solid serenity about him. Seeing that settled something inside me, too. My breathing slowed and evened; my anxiety lessened.
    “That’s better.” He kissed my forehead. “I was going to wait until the weekend to talk about this, but now works. We’re going to come to an agreement. Once it’s met, there’s no turning back. Understand?”
    I swallowed hard. “I’m trying.”
    “You know the way I am. You’ve seen me at my worst. Last night, you said you want me anyway.” He waited for my nod. “That’s where I fucked up. I didn’t trust you to make that decision for yourself and I should have. Because I didn’t, I’ve been too cautious. Your past scares me, Eva.”
    The thought of Nathan indirectly taking Gideon away from me was so painful, my knees drew even closer into my chest. “Don’t give him that power.”
    “I won’t. And you have to realize there’s more than one answer for everything. Who says you need me too much? Who says it’s not healthy? Not you. You’re unhappy because you’re holding yourself back.”
    “Men don’t—”
    “Fuck that. Neither of us is typical. And that’s okay. Turn off that voice in your head that’s screwing you up. Trust me to know what you need, even when you think I’m wrong. And I’ll trust your decision to be with me despite my faults. Got it?”
    I bit my lower lip to hide its trembling and nodded.
    “You don’t look convinced,” he said softly.
    “I’m afraid I’ll lose myself in you, Gideon. I’m scared I’ll lose the part of me I worked so hard to get back.”
    “I’d never let that happen,” he promised fiercely. “What I want is for us both to feel safe. What you and I have together shouldn’t be draining us like this. It should be the one rock-solid thing we both count on.”
    My eyes stung with tears at the thought. “I want that,” I whispered. “So much.”
    “I’m going to give it to you, angel.” Gideon bent his dark head and brushed his lips over mine. “I’m going to give it to both of us. And you’re going to let me.”
    * * *
     
    “Things seem to be looking better this week,” Dr. Petersen said when Gideon and I arrived for our Thursday night therapy appointment.
    We sat near each other this time, with our hands clasped together. Gideon’s thumb caressed my knuckles, and I looked at him and smiled, feeling settled by the contact.
    Dr. Petersen flipped open the protective case of his tablet and settled more comfortably in his seat. “Is there anything in particular you’d like to discuss?”
    “Tuesday was tough,” I said quietly.
    “I imagine so. Let’s talk about Monday night. Can you tell me what happened, Eva?”
    I told him about waking up from my own nightmare to find myself trapped in Gideon’s. I walked him through that night and the following day.
    “So you’re sleeping separately now?” Dr. Petersen asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Your nightmares”—he looked up at me—“how often do you have them?”
    “Rarely. Prior to dating Gideon, it’d been almost two years