He was answering my song.

My eyes burned even as my heart began to beat with a different rhythm. Had I thought he’d be unemotional? My God, he was killing me, baring his soul in the rough timbre of his voice.

“Holy fuck,” Cary said, his eyes on the stage. “The man can sing.”

I was hanging by a moment, too, hanging on to every word, hearing his message about chasing after me and falling more in love. I shifted in my seat, turned on beyond bearing.

Gideon dominated the attention of everyone in the bar. Of all the voices we’d heard that night, his was truly professional grade. He stood in the single spotlight, feet set a foot apart, dressed elegantly while singing a rock song, and he made it work so well I couldn’t imagine it sung any other way.

There was no comparison to Brett, not in Gideon’s delivery or my reaction to it.

I was on my feet before I knew it, making my way through the crowd to get to him. Gideon finished the song and the bar went ballistic, cutting off my route to him. I became lost in the crush, too short to see beyond the shoulders around me.

He found me, pushing his way through to catch me up in his arms. His mouth claimed mine, kissing me roughly, inciting a new round of catcalls and cheers. In the periphery, I heard the band begin a new song. I practically climbed up Gideon, panting in his ear, “Now!”

I didn’t have to explain. Setting me down, he grabbed my hand and led me across the bar and back through the kitchen to the service elevator. I plastered myself against him before the doors closed behind us, but he was pulling out his phone and lifting it to his ear, tilting his head back as my mouth slid feverishly over his throat.

“Bring the limo around,” he ordered gruffly, and then the phone was back in his pocket and he was kissing me back with all the passion he’d once kept locked inside.

Ravenous, I devoured him, catching his lower lip between my teeth and tasting it with swift lashes of my tongue. He groaned when I pushed him against the elevator’s padded wall, my hands running down his chest to cup the heft of his erection in my palms.

“Eva … Christ.”

We stopped descending and he exploded into movement, grabbing me by the elbow and pushing me ahead of him out the doors with brisk, impatient strides. We exited from a service hallway into the lobby, once again maneuvering through a crowd until we stepped out into the summer night heat. The limo idled in the street.

Angus jumped out, quickly pulling the rear door open. I scrambled in with Gideon crowding in behind me. “Don’t go far,” he told Angus.

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 646