Chapter 8 #2
“Oh.” I closed my eyes so his expression wouldn’t distract me as I sorted through what he’d just said.
He was actually right about that. I’d been so on the edge last night from his distance throughout the week that it hadn’t taken much to push me over.
“But it was still my fault. And you’re going to have to do a lot more before you hurt me as much as I’ve hurt you. ”
“You haven’t hurt me,” he insisted. When I started to argue, he continued, “Not ever on purpose. I know you’ve always given me as much as you possibly can.”
I slid my hand up to his shoulder. “I wish I could give you more.”
“Well, I wish I could give you more too. So we’re in the same boat.”
I smiled at him since he seemed so pleased with his answer. It felt like we’d resolved something important, and I tucked myself under his arm again.
“I was really jealous,” I admitted after a minute of just lying together. “When I saw you with Maria last night. I don’t want any other woman to be with you. No one but me.”
He brushed a kiss against my hair. “Good. No one but you it is.”
I smiled, enjoying a sense of relief, of satisfaction—one that didn’t feel as wrong as it would have the day before.
“And just to be clear, no other man gets to be with you either, right?”
I gave a huff of laughter. “Right.”
“Good.”
Feeling a swell of feeling for him and wanting to answer it in some way, I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on one of the inked words on his chest. He brushed back my hair, which had fallen over onto his chest, and then lifted my head so he could very lightly kiss my lips.
It didn’t last long enough to make me nervous, and it was nice. Made me feel close to him.
“Your hair is a little out of sorts this morning,” I teased, smiling and reaching over to smooth down some of the strands that were sticking straight up.
He chuckled. “I’m not sure you should be talking about someone else’s messy hair.”
I gasped and jerked my hands up to my own hair, which I could feel was wildly tangled and probably looked awful. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded. “Is it bad?”
Laughing, he pulled me back down into the crook of his arm. “It’s beautiful.”
“You are such a liar.”
“But I always tell the truth about you.”
I felt strangely touched by his words and pressed another little kiss on his shoulder. I was starting to idly stroke his chest again, strangely mesmerized by the images, when my eyes drifted lower and landed on a very noticeable bulge beneath the thin fabric of his pajama pants.
My hand froze, and my whole body tightened. His arousal was very obvious although he didn’t appear to be bothered by it.
“Are you okay?” he asked in a different voice. I knew he’d realized what I’d noticed.
“Yeah. Are you okay?” I felt jittery and anxious but not nauseated the way I’d expected at such an obvious sign of sex.
“It’s just an erection.” He sounded mild, careful.
“I know. But you can’t do anything with it, so I don’t want to torture you or anything.”
He let out a breath of amusement and tilted his head down to press a kiss into my hair. “I’m not in a tortured state quite yet. I think I’ll be okay.”
“Oh. Okay.” I wasn’t sure what to do, and I was afraid to move my hand.
It’s not like I never had sex before. I had a decent social life before everything happened.
But I couldn’t even let myself think about sex now since it fired up all my demons, and I was so afraid of triggering that fear or wounding Gideon’s feelings.
“You need to tell me if it’s too much too soon,” he said, lifting my head so I was looking in his eyes instead of at his groin. “Whenever you’re close to me or you touch me, I’m going to get turned on, but we can make sure it isn’t in your face. Shit, that came out wrong. I mean—”
I giggled. “I know what you mean. I really think it’s okay. I don’t want you to have to hide it from me.”
“Okay. Good.”
He looked so relieved and gorgeous and rumpled and sweet that I couldn’t resist the compulsion to stretch up and press my lips against his. He tangled his fingers into my hair and took over the kiss, not using his tongue but teasing my lips in a way that felt delicious.
He pulled away before I did. “Okay. Any more of that, and it’s going to get torturous. I’m going to take a shower.”
As he walked out of the room, I sighed and stretched out on the bed. It wasn’t even eight thirty, and I felt like I’d already accomplished a lot.
* * *
A couple of weeks later, we went on a hike on a Sunday afternoon.
It was a gorgeous, sunny day, and we had a really good time. We laughed and talked and enjoyed the weather, and nothing unpleasant seemed to come up.
I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I’d had such a good day—without fear, bleak memory, or confusion getting in the way.
We’d finished the trail and were walking down to where Gideon had parked the car when I reached over and took his hand, wanting to be close to him, to feel connected to him physically—as connected as I felt in other ways.
He was telling me about a ludicrous training session they’d had to sit through at work, outlining twelve different strategies for conveying respect to people that were each illustrated with a diagram.
He didn’t stop his story when I took his hand, but I saw his eyes dart over to my face.
He didn’t react in any other way, and he didn’t pull his hand away.
I laughed at his descriptions, and we were both smiling when we reached the car. He walked with me to open the passenger door.
When he didn’t move, I looked up at him questioningly. My breath hitched as I caught the expression in his eyes.
I felt an intense surge of what could only be attraction. It was physical, but it was more than that. He was handsome and masculine and strong—like he belonged in the outdoors—but he was so much more than just that. And I wanted him. All of him. I wanted him in every way.
“Not to change the subject, but I think I’m going to kiss you now,” he murmured, slipping his hand out of my grip and using both hands to cup my face. “Okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered, washed with a flush of heat.
He leaned down until his lips met mine, brushing against them gently, as if he were testing my responses. I reached up eagerly to wrap my arms around his neck. He made a guttural sound and deepened the kiss, and it wasn’t long until I was drowning in it, in him.
I was gasping when he pulled away enough to rest his forehead against mine. When I pulled myself together enough, I managed to say, “This is a really good day.”
He gave a breathless laugh and pulled me into a tight hug. “I think so too.”
* * *
A couple of weeks after that, the main trial of the Albanians began.
Since the guys who’d raped me had pleaded out, I wasn’t really part of the case.
I was on the witness list since I could testify about the last night Gideon spent in that row house, but I was told I’d only have to do it if absolutely necessary for the case.
I really hoped I wouldn’t have to. I know a lot of victims need their day in court, but this trial wasn’t about seeking justice for me, so I didn’t plan to attend any of the trial if I could help it.
Gideon had to testify though. He was a pivotal part of the case against the boss and the gang’s most important movers. And I knew it was really hard for him.
The evening after his first day of testimony we weren’t planning to get together. I had an early meeting the next morning, and he thought he’d need to spend time preparing for the following day in court.
He sounded so battered when he called afterward, however, that I decided to go over to his place after all. It took some prying, but he finally admitted that he didn’t think he’d done a good job on his testimony that day.
It was close to nine thirty, and we were sitting on the couch together, a silence falling over both of us after he finished explaining what happened.
He was stretched out mostly sideways on the couch, and I was leaning against his chest. One of his arms was wrapped around me, and I was playing with his hand with both of mine, stroking his palm and wrist the way he’d sometimes done for me.
Finally I said, “I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you think. I’m sure you did just fine. I mean, if the case was in trouble, they would have called me in to testify, and they haven’t. I’m sure it’s fine. What did the prosecutor say about it?”