Bared to You

"What are you doing?" I whispered.

He backed up, as if he wanted to be as far away from me as he could get. "I can't stay."

It worried me that I felt a surge of relief at the thought of being alone. "We agreed - no running."

"That was before I attacked you!" he snapped, showing the first sign of spirit in over an hour.

"You were unconscious."

"You're not going to be a victim ever again, Eva. My God...what I almost did to you..." He turned his back to me, his shoulders hunched in a way that scared me as much as the attack had.

"If you leave, we lose and our pasts win." I saw my words hit him like a blow. Every light in my room was on, as if electricity alone could banish all the shadows on our souls. "If you give up now, I'm afraid it'll be easier for you to stay away and for me to let you. We'll be over, Gideon."

"How can I stay? Why would you want me to?" Turning around, he looked at me with such longing it brought fresh tears to my eyes. "I'd kill myself before I hurt you."

Which was one of my fears. I had a difficult time picturing the Gideon I knew - the dominant, willful force of nature - taking his own life, but the Gideon standing before me was an entirely different person. And he was the child of a suicidal parent.

My fingers plucked at the hem of my T-shirt. "You'd never hurt me."

"You're afraid of me," he said hoarsely. "I can see it on your face. I'm afraid of me. Afraid of sleeping with you and doing something that will destroy us both."

He was right. I was afraid. Dread chilled my stomach.

Now I knew the explosive violence in him. The festering fury. And we were so impassioned with each other. I'd slapped his face at the garden party, lashing out physically when I never did that.

It was the nature of our relationship to be lusty and emotional, earthy and raw. The trust that held us together also opened us up to each other in ways that made us both vulnerable and dangerous. And it would get worse before it got better.

He shoved a hand through his hair. "Eva, I - "

"I love you, Gideon."

"God." He looked at me with something that resembled disgust. Whether it was directed at me or himself, I didn't know. "How can you say that?"

"Because it's the truth."

"You just see this" - he gestured at himself with a wave of his hand. "You're not seeing the f**ked-up, broken mess inside."

I inhaled sharply. "You can say that to me? When you know I'm f**ked up and broken, too?"

"Maybe you're wired to go for someone who's terrible for you," he said bitterly.

"Stop it. I know you're hurting, but lashing out at me is only going to make you hurt worse." I glanced at the clock and saw it was four in the morning. I walked toward him, needing to get past my fear of touching him and being touched by him.

He held up a hand as if to hold me off. "I'm going home, Eva."

"Sleep on the couch here. Don't fight me about this, Gideon. Please. I'll worry myself sick if you go."

"You'll be more worried if I stay." He stared at me, looking lost and angry and filled with terrible yearning. His eyes pleaded with me for forgiveness, but he wouldn't accept it when I tried to give it to him.

I went to him and took his hand, fighting back the surge of apprehension that hit me when we touched. My nerves were still raw, my throat and mouth still sore, the memory of his attempts at penetration - so like Nathan's - were still too fresh. "We'll g-get through this," I promised him, hating that my voice quavered. "You'll talk to Dr. Petersen and we'll go from there."

His hand lifted as if to touch my face. "If Cary hadn't been here - "

"He was, and I'll be fine. I love you. We'll get past this." I walked into him, hugging him, pushing my hands beneath his shirt to touch his bare skin. "We're not going to let the past get in the way of what we have."

I wasn't sure which of us I was trying to convince.

"Eva." His returning hug squeezed all of the air out of me. "I'm sorry. It's killing me. Please. Forgive me...I can't lose you."

"You won't." My eyes closed, focusing on the feel of him. The smell of him. Remembering that I once feared nothing when I was with him.

"I'm so sorry." His shaking hands stroked the curve of my spine. "I'll do anything..."

"Shh. I love you. We'll be okay."

Turning his head, he kissed me softly. "Forgive me, Eva. I need you. I'm afraid of what I'll become if I lose you..."

"I'm not going anywhere." My skin tingled beneath the restless glide of his hands on my back. "I'm right here. No more running."

He paused, his breath gusting harshly against my lips. Then he tilted his head and sealed his mouth over mine. My body responded to the gentle coaxing of his kiss. I arched into him without volition, pulling him closer.

He cupped my br**sts in his hands, kneading them, circling the pads of his thumbs over my ni**les until they peaked and ached. I moaned with a mixture of fear and hunger, and he quivered at the sound.

"Eva...?"

"I - I can't." The memory of how I'd woken up was too fresh in my mind. It hurt me to deny him, knowing he needed the same thing from me as I'd needed from him when I told him about Nathan - proof that the desire was still there, that as ugly as the scars of our pasts were, they didn't affect what we were to each other now.