Captivated By You (Crossfire, Book 4)

“I DIDN’T EVEN recognize you without the suit and tie,” Sam Yimara said, as I settled into the seat across from him. He was a compact man, well shy of six feet in height but muscled. His head was shaved and tattooed, his earlobes pierced so that I could see right through them.

Pete’s 69th Street Bar wasn’t located on Sixty-ninth Street, so I had no idea where the name originated. I did understand that Six-Ninths had derived their name from it, after playing on its stage for a number of years. I also understood that the restrooms in the back had provided a place for Brett Kline to screw my wife.

I wanted to lay my fists into him for that. She deserved palaces and private islands, not seedy bar bathroom stalls.

Pete’s wasn’t quite a dive, but it was classless. A beach bar that looked best under cover of darkness and known mostly as a place for SDSU students to hook up and drink ’til they couldn’t remember what they did or whom they fucked.

After I tore the place to the ground, they wouldn’t remember the bar, either.

The choice in venue was deliberate and quite brilliant on Yimara’s part. It put me on edge and drove home what was at stake. If my decision to show up alone and dressed in jeans and T-shirt threw him off in return, I’d consider the challenge well met.

I leaned back in my seat, watching him carefully. The bar had a few patrons, most of whom were seated on the patio. Only a handful of us occupied the beach-themed interior. “Have you decided to accept my offer?”

“I’ve considered it.” He crossed his legs and angled so that he could lay his arm along his seat back. Overconfident and not smart enough to exercise caution. “But hey, considering what you’re valued at, I’m surprised Eva’s privacy isn’t worth more than a million dollars to you.”

I smiled inwardly. “Eva’s peace of mind is priceless to me. But if you think I’ll up my offer, you aren’t thinking clearly. The injunction against you will go through. And then there’s the pesky little detail regarding the legality of filming Eva without her consent, a very different scenario from a mutually agreed-upon private sex tape gone public.”

His jaw tightened. “I thought you wanted to keep this quiet, not make it part of public record. Eva would be on her own with any lawsuit, you know. I’ve already talked to Brett and we’ve worked things out.”

Tension tightened my shoulders. “He’s seen the footage?”

“He has it.” Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a flash drive. “Here’s a copy for Eva. I figured you should see what you’re paying for.”

The thought of Kline viewing sexual images of Eva sent rage surging through me. His memories were bad enough. A recording was unacceptable.

My hand fisted around the flash drive. “It’s going to come out that the footage exists; I can’t stop it. You contacted too many reporters with your offer to sell it. What I can do is destroy you. Personally, that would be my preference. I want to watch you burn, you piece of shit.”

Sam shifted in his seat.

I leaned forward. “You got more than Eva and Kline with your cameras. There are dozens of other victims who didn’t sign releases. I own this bar. Hell, I own the band. It didn’t take much effort to find the regulars and Six-Ninths followers who were here when you were illegally filming in the bathrooms.”

The last bit of avarice in his gaze dimmed, then blinked out completely.

“If you were smarter,” I went on, “you would’ve leveraged for long-term gain instead of an immediate payout. Instead, you’re going to sign the contract I’m about to put in front of you and walk away with a check for a quarter million.”

He straightened. “Fuck that! You said one million. That was the deal.”

“Which you didn’t accept.” I stood. “It’s no longer on the table. And if you take any longer to decide, the new offer won’t be, either. I’ll just run you into the ground and straight into a jail cell. It’s enough that I can tell Eva I tried.”

As I walked away, I shoved the flash drive into my pocket, where it promptly burned a hole I couldn’t ignore. My gaze met Arash’s as I passed where he sat at the bar waiting for his cue to step in.

He hopped off his bar stool. “Always a pleasure watching you scare the hell out of someone,” he said, before heading toward the seat I’d just vacated, the necessary contract and check in hand.

I stepped outside the dim bar into the bright San Diego sunshine. Eva didn’t want me to view the footage; she’d made me promise I wouldn’t.

But she was feeling something for Kline. He remained a very real threat. Seeing them together, intimately, might give me the information I needed to fight him off.

Had she been as sexually raw with him as she was with me? Had she been as desperate and greedy for him? Could he make her come like I could?

I squeezed my eyes shut against the images in my head, but they wouldn’t go away.

Remembering my promise, I crossed the parking lot to my rental car.

Is it silly that I’m nearly as excited to be your “friend” as I am to be your wife?

I laughed inwardly as I read Eva’s text and replied. I’m as excited to be your lover as I am to be your husband.

OMG … fiend.

That had me laughing aloud.

“What was that sound?” Arash looked at me over the edge of his tablet, having made himself at home on the couch in my hotel suite. “Was that a laugh, Cross? Were you seriously just laughing? Or were you having a stroke?”

I flipped him off.

“Seriously?” he shot back. “The finger?”

“Eva says it’s a classic.”

“Eva’s hot enough to get away with it. You’re not.”

I opened a new window on my laptop and logged into my social media profile, linking it to Eva’s with the Engaged to designation now that we were “friends.” As I waited for her to accept the relationship link, I clicked on her profile and smiled again at the cover image she’d selected. She was exposing herself to the world for the first time, and she was doing so as the woman who was mine.

I texted her back when she approved our joined status. Now you’re both.

☺ I’m keeping my half of our deal.

My gaze moved from the message window to the photo of us on her profile. I brushed over her face with my fingertips, resisting the urge to go to her. It was too soon. She needed what space I could bear to give her.

So am I, angel mine.

THE theater in the casino wasn’t a huge venue, but it wasn’t small, either, and it was easier to fill. It was better for Six-Ninths to boast sold-out concerts than to risk embarrassingly empty seats, even in their hometown. Christopher would’ve thought of that.

My brother was good at what he did. I’d learned not to tell him so, though. It only made him more of an asshole.

As the rows of seats slowly emptied, I made my way toward backstage. Not my turf, despite the all-access pass I carried as primary shareholder of Vidal Records. Kline definitely had the advantage.

But I hadn’t been able to stay away until morning, even though I knew it was the wiser move. Then, he’d be exhausted. Possibly hungover. I would have the upper hand then.

I couldn’t wait that long. He had the footage. He would’ve watched it at least once. Maybe more than that. I couldn’t stomach the thought of him watching it again. Getting it away from him was the most important thing on my agenda.

And I wanted him to know I was close by before he met with Eva. I was marking my territory, so to speak, and I chose to do so in the jeans and T-shirt I’d worn when I met Yimara. Anything to do with Eva was a personal matter, not business, and I wanted that to be clear the moment Kline saw me.

I entered stage left and walked straight into chaos. Scantily clad women fucked up on their drug or booze of choice lined the scuffed, narrow corridor. Dozens of tattooed and pierced men broke down and packed up equipment with efficient, practiced skill and speed. Hard-grinding music piped out of hidden speakers, clashing with the tunes spilling out of individual rooms. I weaved through the pandemonium, searching for a distinctive head of frosted spikes.

An achingly familiar blonde stumbled out of an open doorway several feet away, her hair falling around her shoulders and drawing attention to the lush curves of a great ass.

My footsteps slowed. My heartbeat quickened. Kline followed her out, a beer in one hand and the other reaching for her. She caught it and pulled him out into the wing.

I knew how that delicate hand felt, how smooth the skin was. How firm the grip. I knew how those nails felt digging into my back. How those fingers tugged at my hair as she came against my mouth. The electric sizzle of her touch. The primal awareness.

I stood frozen, my gut knotting. She stood close, too close, to Kline. Her shoulder leaned against the wall. Her hip was cocked provocatively, her fingertips brushing suggestively over Kline’s stomach. He gave her a cocky, flirtatious smile, his hand rubbing her upper arm in a far too intimate way.

No one who saw them together could mistake that they were lovers.

Rage fired my blood. A sick darkness radiated through me.

Pain. Searing and soul deep. It took my breath and every ounce of control.

A woman’s arm draped over my shoulder. Her hand slid beneath the neck of my T-shirt to touch my chest, while her other wrapped around my hip to stroke my dick. Cloying perfume assaulted my nose, spurring me to shrug her off violently even as a model-thin brunette with heavily made-up blue eyes tried to sandwich me from the front.

“Back off!” I growled, glaring at both in a way that had them stumbling back and calling me an asshole.

In another time, I would’ve fucked them both, turning the feel of being hunted into one of complete control.

I’d learned how to handle sexual predators after Hugh. How to put them in their place.

I surged forward, pushing through the crowd, remembering the feel of Kline’s jaw against my fist. The unforgiving hardness of his torso. The grunt of air leaving his body when I hit him with everything I had.

I wanted him laid out and battered. Bloody. Broken.

Kline bent over her, speaking close to her ear. My hands clenched. She threw her head back and laughed, and I stumbled to a halt. Startled and confused. Despite the volume of noise, the sound struck me as wrong.

It wasn’t Eva’s laugh.

It was too high. My wife’s laugh was low and throaty. Sexy. As unique as the woman it belonged to.

The blonde turned her head and I saw her in profile. She wasn’t Eva. The body and hair were similar. Not the face.

What the fuck?

My mind caught up with reality. The girl was the one from the “Golden” music video. The Eva stand-in.

Roadies and groupies filtered around me, but I remained fixed in place as Kline caressed and seduced a pale imitation of my incomparable wife.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, startling me. I cursed and pulled it out, reading the text from Raúl: She just arrived at the casino.

So, she’d changed her mind about seeing Kline. Working the situation to my benefit, I typed back: Get her to the left wing now.

Got it.

I backed up against the wall, sidestepping into an alcove half hidden by steel equipment cases stacked on hand trucks. The minutes ticked by slowly.

I sensed her before I saw her, felt the frisson of recognition. Turning my head, I found her easily. Unlike her imitator, who wore a small tight dress, Eva was dressed in jeans that hugged every curve and a simple gray tank top. She wore heeled sandals and hoop earrings, casual and relaxed.

Hunger hit me with brutal force. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen and easily the sexiest woman alive. Other women turned their heads to follow her when she walked by, envying her effortless beauty and sexuality. Men eyed her with heated interest, but she didn’t seem to notice, her attention on Kline.

Her gaze narrowed as she took in the same scene I had moments earlier. I watched her assess the situation and knew when she reached the same conclusion I had. A myriad of emotions crossed her face. It had to be odd for her, seeing a former lover so desperate to recapture what he’d once had with her.

It was inconceivable to me. If I couldn’t have Eva, I would have no one.

Her shoulders went back. Her chin lifted. Then a smile curved her mouth. I could see the acceptance settle over her, a new kind of peace. Whatever she’d needed, she had found it.

Eva passed by without spotting me, but Raúl joined me.

“Awkward,” he said, his attention on Kline as the singer looked up and spotted my wife, his body visibly stiffening.

“Perfect,” I replied, as my wife greeted Kline by extending her left hand to him. My ring on her finger sparkled brilliantly, impossible to miss. “Keep me posted.”

I left.

As my muscles burned through my eightieth push-up, my gaze was on the flash drive lying on the carpet in front of me. The way I’d dealt with Yimara and Kline had been effective but unsatisfying. I was still tense and aggravated, spoiling for a fight.

My eyes stung as rivulets of sweat ran down my forehead. My chest heaved with exertion. Knowing Eva was out clubbing with Cary and some of their SoCal friends only sharpened the edge I hovered on. I knew how primed she got when out drinking and dancing. I loved nailing her when her body was damp and steamy with perspiration, her cunt slick and greedy.

Jesus. My dick throbbed and hardened further. My arms trembled as I neared the point of muscle fatigue. Veins stood out in harsh relief along my forearms and hands. I needed a cold shower, but I wouldn’t get myself off. I always saved it for Eva. Every thick, creamy drop.

The message app on my laptop pinged and I slowed the vicious pace, hitting one hundred before I pushed to my feet. I grabbed the flash drive and dropped it on the desk, then retrieved the towel I’d hung over the back of the chair. Wiping my face before opening the window on my laptop, I expected to read the latest update on Eva’s evening. What I saw was a text from her.

What room are you in?

I stared at the screen for a moment, processing the question. Another ping announced a text from Raúl: She’s heading toward your hotel.

Anticipation shifted my focus from working out to my delectable, clever wife. I typed a reply to her: 4269.

I reached for the phone on the desk and called room service. “A bottle of Cristal,” I ordered. “Two flutes, strawberries, and whipped cream. Have it here in ten. Thanks.”

Returning the receiver to its base, I slung the towel around the back of my neck. A quick glance at the clock told me it was half past two in the morning.

By the time the doorbell chimed, I’d turned on all the lights in both the living room and bedroom and opened the curtains that had been blocking the view of the moonlit ocean.

I went to the door and opened it, finding both Eva and room service waiting. Dressed as I’d seen her earlier, Eva looked like a bad girl, renewing my hard-on in an instant. Her hair was limp and her face shiny, her mascara running slightly. She smelled like clean sweat and alcohol.

If the server hadn’t been standing behind her, I would’ve had her on her back on the foyer tile before she knew what hit her.

“Holy fuck,” she breathed, eyeing me from head to toe.

I glanced down. I was still overheated, my skin shiny with sweat. The waistband of my sweats was wet with it, drawing attention to the erection I didn’t even try to will away. “Sorry, you caught me midworkout.”

“What are you doing in San Diego?” she demanded from the hallway.

Stepping back, I gestured for her to come in.

She didn’t move. “I’m not getting sucked into your sex-god vortex until you answer me.”

“I’m here on business.”

“Bullshit.” Her arms crossed.

Reaching out, I caught her by the elbow and tugged her in. “I can prove it.”

Room service rolled the cart in after her.

“You’re way too optimistic,” she muttered, looking at the order as I signed the receipt.

I handed the bill and stylus back, waited for the server to leave, then walked over to the phone by the sofa. I dialed Arash’s room.

“Are you serious?” he answered, sounding groggy. “Some of us sleep, Cross.”

“My wife wants to talk to you.”

“What?” Sheets rustled. “Where are you?”

“In my room.” I held the receiver out to Eva. “My attorney.”

“Are you nuts?” she asked. “It’s five in the morning in New York! On a Sunday!”

“He’s in the room next door. Take it. Ask him if I’ve been working today.”

She marched over and snatched the phone out of my hand. “You should get a new job,” she told him. “Your boss is insane.”

He replied and she sighed. “Before.” She glanced at me. “Thank God he’s hot. Still, I might get my head checked. Sorry he woke you up. Go back to sleep.”

Eva held the phone out to me.

I took it and put it to my ear. “As she said, go back to sleep.”

“I like her. She gives you shit.”

My gaze slid over her. “I like her, too. Good night.”

I hung up and reached for her.

She backed up, avoiding my grasp. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here?”

“Didn’t want to cramp your style.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

My brows rose. “Asks the wife who tracked my phone to my hotel.”

“I was just curious if you were staying in the penthouse or not!”

She pouted when I only continued to eye her. “And … I missed you.”

“I’m right here, angel.” I opened my arms to her. “Come and get me.”

Her nose wrinkled. “I have to shower. I stink.”

“We’re both sweaty.” I went to her. This time, she didn’t pull away. “And I love the way you smell. You know that.”

I put my hands on her waist, sliding them up until I hugged her delicate rib cage just beneath the full swell of her tits. I cupped them through her top, gently hefting their weight, squeezing softly.

I’d never had a fetish for particular parts of the female body, until Eva. I worshipped every inch of her, cherished all of her generous curves.

The pads of my thumbs circled her nipples, feeling them harden. “I love the way you feel.”

Lowering my head, I found the crook of her neck and nuzzled her, rubbing my damp hair against her.

She moaned. “No fair. You’re all ripped and shiny and mostly naked, and I have no willpower.”

“You don’t need any.” I pushed my hands beneath her tank and freed the clasp of her bra. “Let me have you, Eva.”

I sucked in a slow, deep breath as she reached under the elastic of my waistband and gripped my cock.

“Yum,” she whispered. “Look what I found.”

“Angel.” I cupped her ass. “Tell me you want it exactly the way I want to give it to you.”

She looked up at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “And how would that be?”

“Here. On the floor. Your jeans caught around one ankle, your shirt pushed up, your underwear shoved to the side. I want my cock inside you, my cum filling you.” I slid my tongue along the racing pulse in her neck. “I’ll take care of you once I get you to bed, but right now … I just want to use you.”

She trembled. “Gideon.”

Banding one arm behind her thighs, I pulled her feet out from under her and lowered her carefully to the carpet. My mouth found hers soft and hot and wet, her tongue licking mine. Her arms wrapped around my neck, trying to hold me. I let her, my knees straddling her hips, my fingers opening her jeans.

Her belly was flat and silky smooth, concaving with a giggle when my knuckles brushed her sides. Her ticklishness made me smile into our kiss, joy filling my chest until it felt too small to contain it.

“You’ll stay with me,” I told her. “Wake up with me.”

“Yes.” Her hips lifted to help me yank her pants down.

I freed one leg and left the other trapped, my hands pushing her thighs open so I could see her. Her panties were skewed from pulling off her jeans, giving her just the look I wanted.

She was my wife. My most valuable possession; I treasured her. But I loved her slutty and dirty, too. A sexual object for my pleasure. The one woman who could silence the memories in my head and set me free.

“Angel.” I slid down, lying prone, my mouth watering for the taste of her.

“No,” she protested, her hands covering herself.

I pinned her wrists at her sides and glared. “I want you like this.”

“Gideon—”

I licked her through the silk and she arched with a whimper, her heels digging into the carpet and lifting her cunt to my mouth. I pulled her panties aside with my teeth and uncovered the impossibly soft skin. A rough sound left me, my dick hardening to the point of pain.

Wrapping my lips around her clit, I sucked her, licked her. Felt her tense up. I released her hands, knowing she was mine now, helpless to fight me.

“Oh God,” she breathed, writhing. “Your mouth …”

Spreading her wide with my shoulders, I tongued her, driving her to come. Her fingers pulled at my hair, tugging painfully at the roots, spurring me on until she climaxed with a startled cry. I licked inside her, fucking her, feeling her quiver around my tongue. She grew slicker, hotter.

I rubbed against her clit and slid two fingers inside her, grinding my hips into the floor at the feel of her tight plushness. My cock ached to sink into that snug heat, knowing how amazing it felt, craving the constriction.

“Please,” Eva begged, grinding into the thrust of my fingers, needing the slide of my dick to fill her.

I wanted to fuck. To come. Not because I needed sex, but because I needed her.

Her body twisted and tensed with another orgasm, her neck arching as she cried out.

Wiping my wet mouth on her inner thigh, I rose to my knees and shoved my sweats down. I placed one hand on the floor and used the other to aim my cock, levering over her and notching the throbbing head against her. I thrust hard, putting the weight of my body behind it, surging through the tight clasp with a groan.

“Gideon.”

“Christ.” I rubbed my sweat-slick forehead against her cheek, wanting her to smell like me. Her nails were in my back, digging in. I wanted them to mark me, scar me.

Cupping her ass, I lifted her, angled her, digging my feet into the carpet for the leverage I needed to push all the way in. Eva gasped and churned her hips, working to fit me.

“Take me,” I hissed through clenched teeth, fighting the need to come before she took all of my cock. “Let me in.”

Her cunt rippled, sucking at me. I pinned her shoulder to hold her still and thrust harder. She gave, letting me have her.

The feel of her clutching the entire length of my dick was all I needed. Wrapping myself around her, I held her against me, kissing her roughly, coming with a violence that left me trembling in her arms.

STEAM curled around us as I cradled Eva in the suite’s massive sunken tub. Her wet hair clung to my chest, her arms draped over mine where they hugged her waist.

“Ace.”

“Hmm?” I pressed my lips to her temple.

“If we couldn’t be together—not that it would ever happen, just hypothetically—would you sleep with someone who looked like me? I mean, I know I’m not your usual type, but would you want to pretend with someone who reminded you of me?”

“I’m not going to speculate on situations that will never occur.”

“Gideon.” She leaned to the side, tilting her head back to look at me. “I get it. I tried to think if I would find any comfort in being with someone similar to you. Like maybe if it was dark and his hair was your length—”

My hold tightened. “Eva. Don’t tell me about fantasies of other men.”

“God. As usual, you’re not listening.”

“What the fuck is this about?” I knew, of course. But there were no avenues in the topic I wanted to explore.

“Brett’s sleeping with that girl from the ‘Golden’ video. The one who looks like me.”

“No one looks like you.”

She rolled her eyes.

“She may have your curves,” I conceded, “but she doesn’t sound like you. She doesn’t have your sense of humor, your wit. She doesn’t have your heart.”

“Oh, Gideon.”

I brushed wet fingertips over her brow. “Turning off the lights wouldn’t help me at all. A random, stacked blonde wouldn’t smell like you. She wouldn’t move the way you do. She wouldn’t touch me the same way, need me the same way.”

Her face softened and she pressed her cheek against my shoulder. “That’s what I thought, too. I couldn’t do it. And the moment I saw Brett with that girl, I knew that you wouldn’t do it, either.”

“Not with anyone. Ever.” I kissed the tip of her nose. “You’ve changed what sex means to me, Eva. I couldn’t go back. I wouldn’t even try.”

She shifted around to straddle me, sending water sloshing up and over the rim of the tub. I looked at her, taking in the slicked-back hair the color of wheat, the smudges left by her makeup, the sheen of water on her golden skin.

Her fingers massaged the nape of my neck. “My dad wants to pay for the wedding.”

“Does he now?”

She nodded. “I need you to be okay with that.”

I was okay with anything when I had my naked, wet, and frisky wife wrapped around me. “I’ve had the wedding I wanted. You can do whatever you like this time around.”

Her brilliant smile and enthusiastic kiss were all the reward I needed. “I love you.”

I pulled her closer.

She bit her lower lip, then said, “My mom is going to have a fit. She can blow through fifty thousand dollars in just flowers and invitations.”

“So tell your parents your dad is paying for the wedding and your mom can pitch in for the reception. Problem solved.”

“Ooh. I like that. You’re handy to have around, Mr. Cross.”

I lifted her and licked across her nipple. “Let me prove it.”

THE bedroom was lightening with the coming dawn when Eva’s breathing settled into the deep, even rhythm of sleep. I extricated myself from both her arms and the sheets as carefully as possible, standing beside the bed to watch her. Her hair was tumbled around her shoulders, her lips and cheeks flushed from sex. I rubbed my chest, pained by how tight it had become.

Leaving her like this was always hard and became more difficult by the day. My skin hurt from being parted from hers.

I closed the curtains in the bedroom, then moved into the living room and did the same there, plunging the room into darkness.

Then I settled on the sofa and fell asleep.

A sudden flash of light woke me. Blinking, I scrubbed at my gritty eyes and saw that the curtains had been parted to send sunlight shafting across my face. Eva walked toward me, the light haloing around her naked body.

“Hey,” she whispered, sinking to her knees beside me. “You said I’d wake up with you.”

“What time is it?” I looked at my watch, saw I’d only been asleep an hour and a half. “You were supposed to sleep longer.”

She pressed her lips to my abs. “I don’t sleep well without you.”

Regret pierced me. My wife needed things I couldn’t give her. She woke me with light instead of a touch because she feared my reaction. She was right to be cautious. In the grip of a nightmare, the stroke of a hand might have me waking up with fists flying.

I brushed her hair back from her face. “I’m sorry.” For everything. For all you’re giving up to be with me.

“Shh.” She lifted the elastic waistband of my sweats and pushed it down past my cock. I was hard for her. How could I help it when she came to me naked and sleepy-eyed?

Her mouth wrapped around the head of my dick.

I squeezed my eyes shut and groaned, surrendering.

KNOCKING at the door woke me the next time. Eva stirred in my arms, cuddled against me on the narrow stretch of the sofa.

“Goddamn it,” I muttered, pulling her tighter against me.

“Ignore it.”

The knocking continued.

I leaned my head back and yelled, “Go away.”

“I come bearing coffee and croissants,” Arash shouted back. “Open up, Cross, it’s after noon and I want to meet your lady.”

“Christ.”

Eva blinked up at me. “Your lawyer?”

“He was.” I sat up and shoved my hands through my hair. “We’re going away, you and me. Soon. Far away.”

She kissed the small of my back. “Sounds good.”

I shoved my feet into the legs of my sweats, then stood to pull them up. Eva took the opportunity to smack me on the bare ass.

“I heard that!” Arash yelled. “Cut it out and open up.”

“You’re fired,” I told him, striding toward the door. I glanced back to tell Eva to cover herself, but she was already running into the bedroom.

I found Arash waiting outside my suite with a room service cart. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”

I had to back out of the way before he rolled right through me.

“Quit your bitching.” He grinned, pushing the cart off to the side and raking me with a glance. “Save the marathon sex for your honeymoon.”

“Don’t listen to him!” Eva shouted through the bedroom door.

“I won’t.” I turned away from him. “He doesn’t work for me anymore.”

“You can’t hold it against me,” Arash said, following me into the living room. “Wow. Your back looks like you got into a brawl with a mountain lion. No wonder you’re tired.”

“Shut up.” I snatched my shirt off the floor.

“You didn’t tell me Eva was in San Diego, too.”

“It was none of your business.”

He held up both hands in surrender. “Truce.”

“Don’t say a word about Yimara,” I told him quietly. “I won’t have her worrying about that.”

Arash sobered. “It’s done. I won’t mention it again.”

“Good.” I went to the cart and poured two cups of coffee, preparing Eva’s the way she liked it.

“I’ll take a cup,” he said.

“Serve yourself.”

His lips curved wryly as he joined me. “Is she coming out?”

I shrugged.

“She’s not mad, is she?”

“I doubt it.” I took both mugs to the coffee table, then went to the wall where the controls for the drapes were. “It takes some work to piss her off.”

“You’re good at it.” He smiled and settled into one of the armchairs. “I recall that viral video of you two scrapping in Bryant Park.”

I shot him a look as sunlight began pouring into the room. “You must really hate your job.”

“Tell me you wouldn’t be curious if I eloped with a chick I knew only a couple of months.”

“I’d send her my condolences.”

He laughed.

The bedroom door opened and Eva stepped out dressed in her clothes from the night before. Her face was freshly washed, but the dark circles under her eyes and her swollen mouth made her look both well fucked and extremely fuckable. With her bare feet and barely tamed hair, she was stunning.

Pride swelled my chest. Uncovered by the lack of makeup, the dusting of freckles on her nose made her adorable. Her body told you she was a dream to fuck, the confidence in her posture told you she’d take no shit from anyone, and the mischievous amusement in her eyes told you there would never be a dull moment.

She was every promise, every hope, every fantasy a man could have. And she was mine.

I stared. Arash stared, too.

Eva shifted her stance and smiled shyly. “Hi.”

The sound of her voice snapped him out of it. He pushed to his feet so quickly he spilled his coffee. “Shit. Sorry. Hi.”

He set his mug down and brushed the stray droplets off his pants. He went to her and held out his hand. “I’m Arash.”

She shook it. “Nice to meet you, Arash. I’m Eva.”

I joined them, pushing Arash back with my forearm. “Stop drooling.”

He glanced at me. “Funny, Cross, you ass.”

Eva laughed and leaned into me when I slid my arm around her shoulders.

“It’s good to see he works with people who aren’t afraid of him,” she said.

Arash winked, blatantly flirting. “I know how he operates.”

“Really? I’d love to hear all about it.”

“I think not,” I drawled.

“Don’t be a spoilsport, ace.”

“Yeah, ace,” Arash taunted. “What have you got to hide?”

I smiled. “Your corpse.”

He looked at my wife and sighed. “See what I have to deal with?”