The moment Gideon closed the apartment door, Rosie kissed him with all the unexpressed love, all the suppressed emotion, all the pent-up need she’d felt for months now. Gideon’s kiss was just as ravenous, just as desperate, his hands everywhere.
He pulled back long enough to say, “I was terrified today.” Then his mouth was on hers again, stealing any response she could have given him. Until he backed off to take a breath and said, “I know you’ll always do whatever needs to be done, no matter how hard. But I’m always going to go a little crazy while you’re doing it.”
It was a remarkable thing for such a strong man to admit. But she understood. He would always need to protect her, he would always need to protect Jorge. Just as she would always need to protect her son, and now Gideon. Their insatiable need for each other was an affirmation of all the fear as much as it was a celebration of their love.
“I’ll never take foolish risks,” she said. “I promise.”
He framed her face with his callused hands. “I know that. But you need to know that you mean everything to me.”
“I do. Because you’re everything to me too. You and Jorge.”
“I want to be his father,” Gideon said, his face as solemn as a vow, his voice grave with meaning. “I want to be the father he’s never had. The kind of father that I never had.”
“I need that too,” she replied, emotion welling up in her voice. “And more than that, Jorge needs you.”
He picked her up in his arms, carried her into the bedroom, laying her on the bed, coming down against her, blanketing her body with his. “I want to make love to you every day, every night, every hour, every minute.”
“Yes. Please.” Because making love wasn’t just about the physical. It was all the little things he would do to make her happy every day, every hour, every minute. And everything she would do to show him how loved he was.
He slid his hands under the blouse she’d worn to confront her ex. It wasn’t sexy. It was utilitarian. So was the bra and everything she had on. Now she wanted everything off, shredded, gone, never to be worn again. “Tear it off, Gideon. All of it.”
Taking the hem of the blouse in both hands, he ripped it apart. The buttons went flying. She laughed, loved knowing she was his now—that there was no going back. Not ever.
He made fast work of the bra’s front clasp, the plastic tab cracking as he broke it apart. “You are so beautiful.” It was like he was looking at her anew, making everything fresh.
As he bent down to take the peak of one breast in his mouth, she shuddered with joy, with ecstasy, with desire, with love—and with the potent knowledge that this gorgeous man, this brave man, this loyal, caring, strong man, was all hers.
* * *
She kissed him until there was only sensation. Only Rosie. She hadn’t only helped him remember how to laugh, she’d brought him back to life, showing him that he was capable of loving again. That he was worthy of her love.
He’d already torn off her blouse, and as he yanked down her white jeans and threw them in a corner, he knew exactly why she’d wanted everything shredded. To destroy the last vestige of connection to her ex, even the clothes she’d worn into battle.
Then she was naked on top of him. “There hasn’t been anyone for me, not since Jorge was born, and I’m on the Pill for my cycle. And since you said there hasn’t been anyone for you in a long time—”
“Yes,” he said, unable to let her finish the thought when he was so completely on board. “A thousand times yes.” Then he captured her mouth with a kiss, and together they undid his pants and tugged off his shirt.
Her skin against his, her mouth on him as she kissed every inch of bare flesh, along his jaw, down his neck, over his chest—every sensation was glorious, taking him higher, to places he’d never been. Until she took him in her hands and turned him mindless with the dangerous things she did to him, caressing, stroking, adoring.
Moments later, he flipped her onto her back so fast that she gasped. He kissed her hair, her forehead, her eyebrows, her eyelids, stopping for a long sweet kiss on the mouth before he worked his way down her beautiful body, not missing a single square inch.
And there were the parts he lingered on. That sensitive spot right below her ear. The crook of her neck. Her breasts. Her belly. And just when she must have thought—and maybe hoped and prayed—that he was finally going to taste the very center of her, he turned her over and started on her back. He loved the way she squirmed under him, loved the little sounds of pleasure she made as he followed up each kiss with a long swipe of his tongue.
“Gideon.”
Ah, yes, it was close enough to begging. And he gave in to her plea, slipping his hand between her legs, coming up under her to find the sweet spot. His name fell from her lips again and again as she climaxed, her voice drenched with passion and love.
When Gideon finally gathered her up in his arms and carried her into the rain shower, her beautiful features were still dazed with pleasure. It was the luxury he loved most about the place, the one thing he’d had to have. Maybe because he’d had a premonition that one day he would hold Rosie against him as he stood under the rain showerhead. The water was instantly warm, and he let her slide down his body until she was standing, her head tipped back, eyes closed, as she soaked up the rainfall cascading over her.
With his heart pounding harder than ever before—heck, every part of him was harder than ever before—he poured soap into his palm and lathered her body, massaging it into her neck, her back, her breasts.
Going down on his haunches, he soaped her thighs, her calves, lifting one foot to work it, then the other, while she clung to his shoulders. He rose again to wash her hair with his shampoo, wanting his scents all over her.
When he washed the soap away, she finally opened her eyes. “Your turn,” her voice low and sexy and seductive.
His legs trembled as she soaped and rinsed his erection, then licked the very tip of him while she washed his legs. She stood to lather his chest, his arms, his back and shoulders.
Her touch, her kisses, pushed him to the edge. He couldn’t wait a second longer, hauling her up until she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.
Though his body urged him to drive into her in one hard thrust, his heart knew better. Knew how sweet it would be to enter her so very slowly, so very gently, as she opened her mouth and he took her with his tongue.
And oh…it was pure, sweet, heady sensation. The feel of Rosie as they became one, no barriers between them, was like nothing he’d ever known, nothing he could ever imagine.
She closed her eyes, leaned her head back against the shower wall, and moaned as he took her—and she owned him in every way. Her cheeks were flushed, her nostrils flared, her lips parted as her body gripped him tight. Air puffed through his teeth as he held on to his control by only a thread. Until he felt her legs tightening, her muscles working, her skin heating.
At last, he blasted off, crying out, wrapping himself in the circle of her arms. And the soft beat of her voice, “I need you, Gideon. All of you.”
It was all the encouragement it took, and he gave them both what they so badly needed, a ride straight up to heaven together. Always and forever together.
* * *
Gideon was so tender as he patted every drop of water from Rosie’s body, then towel-dried her hair, drawing the comb through without breaking a single strand.
“I forgot to bring more clothes.” She hadn’t packed for an extended stay.
“What makes you think you’re going to need any clothes tonight?” He wrapped her in his big fluffy robe, and she breathed in his scent, loving it. Loving him.
“Only while I make you a Rosie special for dinner,” she told him. Given all the calories they’d just burned, he must be as starved as she was.
He smiled in the mirror, holding her against him, her back to his front. “What’s a Rosie special?”
“You’ll see. And you’ll love it,” she promised. Her dad had taught her a lot, but she’d had to become a decent cook for Jorge. No way was she going to let him grow up on fast food.
“Of course I will.”
Behind her, he was naked. It was all she could do not to take him again right this second. Her experience with men—one man—had never been fun. She’d always been self-conscious, always worried, always judging her performance, her looks, what she said, how she said it. But Gideon let her be anything she wanted. He let her be herself. She loved him for that. And she would never stop wanting him.
“Thank you for setting me free,” she said softly.
“It’s the other way around, Rosie. You set me free.”
The truth was that each had set the other free in different ways. He had freed her from a prison of regret for making the wrong choice with Jorge’s father and the fear of risking her heart again with another wrong choice. And she had freed him from blaming himself for what had happened to Karmen and to his team.
“Now we need food.” She waggled her eyebrows like a lecherous old man. “So that we have the energy to do that again. And again. And again.”
When he grabbed a pair of sweatpants, as much as Rosie hated seeing him cover up all those gorgeous muscles, it was absolutely necessary if they were ever going to get food on the table.
She found spinach, bell peppers, mushrooms, cheese, eggs, and some hamburger in his fridge, which was perfect to make her special scramble. “You chop the peppers and mushrooms,” she said, “and I’ll grate the cheese.”
“I’ve never cooked with anyone before.” He said it with no little wonder.
For the next few minutes, they shared things they’d never done before. He had never gone for a bike ride along a river walk. Never taken a paddle boat out on a pond. Never owned a dog or a cat. And she had never been to a Sharks hockey game. Or to a race at Laguna Seca in Monterey. Or on a camping trip in Yosemite.
Together with Jorge, they would do it all. And every second they spent together would be precious.
“Can you hand me the eggs?” she asked.
He moved behind her to wash his hands at the sink, then back again, his scent tantalizing her as he passed her to open the fridge. He put the eggs beside her, then rested against her, his chin on her head, as she broke an egg into a bowl. Then another. And another.
Until he lifted the robe and stroked his fingers up the outside of her thighs. Then slipping down, along, inside. She gasped and almost tipped over the bowl of eggs.
He slid his foot between hers and pushed her legs wider. “You’re doing a great job,” he said in a low voice than sent a shiver of need up her spine. “Those eggs are going to be so good. I can’t wait to eat them.”
The next thing she knew, he was pulling her hips back, bending her over, and moving between her legs while she gripped the counter.
He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck, his warm breath tantalizing across her skin as he said, “There’s one more thing I’ve never done before. I’ve never made love. Not until you.”
“Gideon.” She could barely get his name out as he entered her. “Neither have I.”
* * *
A while later, after great food and more loving, when he felt lazy and sated and happy with her in his arms, there was one more thing he needed her to know. Not tomorrow, but tonight. Now.
Slowly moving from her arms, he went down on one knee beside the bed. Her eyes were wide, and she sat up in surprise as he took both her hands in his. “I love you so much I ache with it. I love Jorge like he’s my own child. Marry me, Rosie, and make me even happier than I ever hoped I could be.”
He’d never thought he could want such a thing. He’d never thought he wouldn’t fear making such a deep commitment to another person, with the risk of losing them one day the way he’d lost so many people he cared for. But Rosie had erased all his fears. Rosie had made him want this. He loved her, so much he burned with the need to make her his forever.
“Oh, Gideon.” Moisture glistened in her eyes. “I swear I was just about to ask you the same thing.” She tugged him back onto the bed, both of them facing each other on their knees. “Even though it’s only been a week, the truth is that I’ve loved you from the moment Ari told me all the stories about her big, beautiful brother. Even before I met you, my heart was forever yours.”
“If you’re asking,” he said in a voice overflowing with emotion, “I’d give anything to be your husband.”
“And I want nothing more than to be your wife.”