Reflected in You: A Crossfire Novel

thinking about tasting me instead. His desire was charging the air between us. I had been falling under its spell all through dinner.
    Reaching beneath the tablecloth, I cupped his cock through his jeans and squeezed. He went from semihard to stone instantly but gave no other outward indication of his arousal.
    I couldn’t help but see that as a challenge.
    I began to stroke the rigid length of him with my fingers, careful to keep my movements slow and easy to prevent detection. To my delight, Gideon continued his conversation without a hitch in his voice or change of expression. His control excited me, made me bolder. I reached for his button fly, turned on by the thought of releasing him and stroking him skin on skin.
    Gideon took another leisurely sip, then set his wineglass down.
    “Only you, Arnoldo,” he said dryly in response to something his friend had said.
    My wrist was caught just as I tugged at the top button of his jeans. He lifted my hand to his lips, the gesture appearing to be an absentminded show of affection. The quick nip of his teeth into the pad of my finger caught me by surprise and made me gasp.
    Arnoldo smiled; it was the knowing and slightly mocking smile one bachelor gave to another who’d been caught by a woman. He said something in Italian. Gideon replied, his pronunciation sounding fluid and sexy, his tone wry. Arnoldo threw his dark head back and laughed.
    I squirmed in my seat. I loved seeing Gideon like this, relaxed and enjoying himself.
    He looked at my empty dessert plate, then at me. “Ready to go?”
    “Oh, yes.” I was dying to see how the rest of the night would go, how many more sides of Gideon I’d get to discover. Because I loved this side of the man as much as I loved the powerful businessman in the suit and the dominant lover in my bed and the broken child who couldn’t hide his tears and the tender partner who held me when I cried.
    He was so complex and still a huge mystery to me. I’d barely scratched the surface of who he was. Which didn’t stop me from being in too deep.
    * * *
     
    “These guys are good!” Shawna yelled as the opening act barreled headlong into their fifth song.
    We’d left our seats after the third, working our way through a writhing crowd to the railing that divided the seating area from the mosh pit in front of the stage. Gideon surrounded me, his arms caging me on both sides, his hands gripping the rail. The audience pressed in around us, collectively pushing forward, but I was cushioned from it by his body, just as Shawna was by Arnoldo beside us.
    I was sure Gideon could have gotten us way better seats, but I didn’t have to tell him that the way Shawna had scored her fan-only tickets and the fact that she’d invited us meant her seats were our only option. I loved him for understanding that and for going with the flow.
    Turning my head, I looked at him. “Is this band with Vidal, too?”
    “No. But I like them.”
    I was stoked that he was enjoying the show. Lifting my arms in the air, I screamed, feeling pumped by the energy of the crowd and the driving beat. I danced within the circle of Gideon’s arms, my body drenched in sweat, my blood raging.
    When the act was done, the stagehands quickly set to work breaking down the equipment and setting up for Six-Ninths. Grateful for the evening, for the joy, for the awesomeness of going wild with the man I loved, I turned and threw my arms around Gideon’s neck, mashing my lips to his.
    He lifted me and urged my legs around his waist, kissing me violently. He was hard and pressing against me, luring me to grind into him. Around us people whistled and catcalled things that ranged from “Get a room” to “Fuck her, man!” but I didn’t care and neither did Gideon, who seemed as swept away by the sensual craziness as I was. His hand on my buttocks rocked me into his erection while the other fisted in my hair, holding me where he wanted me as he kissed me as if he couldn’t stop, as if he were starving for the taste of me.
    Our open mouths slid desperately across each other. He tongued me deep and fast, fucking my mouth, making love to it. I drank him in, licking and tasting, moaning at his insatiable need. He sucked on my tongue, the circle of his lips sliding along it. It was too much. I was slick and aching for his cock, nearly frantic with the need to feel him filling me.
    “You’re going to make me come,” he growled, before tugging on my bottom lip with his teeth.
    I