Entwined with You

By: Sylvia Day

“WHAT WAS WRONG with that one?” Megumi asked, watching the guy in question walk away. “He had dimples.”

I rolled my eyes and polished off my vodka and cranberry. Primal, the fourth stop on our club-hopping list, was pumping. The line to get in wrapped around the block and the guitar-heavy tracks suited the club’s name, the music pounding through the darkened space with a primitive, seductive beat. The décor was an eclectic mix of brushed metals and dark woods, with the multihued lighting creating animal-print silhouettes.

It should’ve been too much, but like everything Gideon, it skirted the edge of decadent excess without falling over it. The atmosphere was one of hedonistic abandon and it did crazy things to my alcohol-fueled libido. I couldn’t sit still, my feet tapping restlessly on the rungs of my chair.

Megumi’s roommate, Lacey, groaned at the ceiling, her dark blond hair arranged in a disheveled updo I admired. “Why don’t you flirt with him?”

“I might,” Megumi said, looking flushed, bright-eyed, and very hot in a slinky gold halter dress. “Maybe he’ll commit.”

“What do you want out of commitment?” Shawna asked, nursing a drink as fiery red as her hair. “Monogamy?”

“Monogamy is overrated.” Lacey slid off her bar stool at our tallboy table and wriggled her butt, the rhinestones on her jeans glittering in the semidarkness of the club.

“No, it’s not.” Megumi pouted. “I happen to like monogamy.”

“Is Michael sleeping with other women?” I asked, leaning forward so I didn’t have to shout.

I had to lean back right away to make room for the waitress, who brought another round and cleared the previous one away. The club’s uniform of black stiletto boots and hot pink strapless minidresses stood out in the crowd, making it easy to know who to flag. It was also really sexy—as was the staff wearing them. Had Gideon had any hand in picking the outfit? And if so, had anyone modeled it for him?

“I don’t know.” Megumi picked up her new drink and sucked at her straw with a sad face. “I’m afraid to ask.”

Grabbing one of the four shot glasses in the center of the table and a lime wedge, I shouted, “Let’s do shots and dance!”

“Fuck yeah!” Shawna tossed back her shot of Patrón without waiting for the rest of us, then shoved a lime in her mouth. Dropping the juiceless wedge into her empty glass, she shot us all a look. “Hurry up, laggers.”

I went next, shuddering as the tequila washed away the tang of cranberry. Lacey and Megumi went together, toasting each other with a loud “Kanpai!” before downing theirs.

We hit the dance floor en masse, Shawna leading the way in her electric blue dress that was damn near as bright under the black lights as the club uniform. We were swallowed into the mass of writhing dancers, quickly finding ourselves pressed between steamy male bodies.

I let go, giving myself over to the grinding beat of the music and the sultry atmosphere of the rocking club. Lifting my hands in the air, I swayed, releasing the lingering tension from the long, pointless afternoon with my mother. At some point, I’d lost my trust in her. As much as she promised that things would be different without Nathan, I found I couldn’t believe her. She’d crossed the line too many times.

“You’re beautiful,” someone yelled by my ear.

I looked over my shoulder at the dark-haired guy curved against my back. “Thanks!”

It was a lie, of course. My hair clung to my sweat-damp temples and neck in a sticky tangle. I didn’t care. The music raged on, songs sliding into each other.

I reveled in the utter sensuality of the venue and the shameless drive for casual sex that everyone seemed to exude. I was pressed between a couple—the girlfriend at my back and her boyfriend at my front—when I spotted someone I knew. He must have seen me first, because he was already working his way toward me.

“Martin!” I yelled, breaking out of my bump-and-grind sandwich. In the past, I’d only crossed paths with Stanton’s nephew during the holidays. We’d met up once since I moved to New York, but I hoped we would eventually see each other more.

“Eva, hi!” He caught me up in a hug, then pulled back to check me out. “You look fantastic. How are you?”

“Let’s get a drink!” I shouted, feeling too parched to hold a conversation at the decibel level required in the crowd.

Grabbing my hand, he led me out of the crush and I pointed to my table. The moment we sat down, the waitress was there with another vodka and cranberry.

It’d been that way all night, although I’d noted that my drinks were getting darker as the hours progressed, a sure sign that the vodka-to-cranberry ratio was slowly becoming more cranberry than not. I knew that was deliberate and was suitably impressed by Gideon’s ability to carry his instructions from club to club. Since no one was stopping me from supplementing with shots, I didn’t mind too much.

“So,” I began, taking a welcome sip before rolling the icy-cold tumbler across my forehead. “How have you been?”

“Great.” He grinned, looking quite handsome in a camel-hued V-neck T-shirt and black jeans. His dark hair wasn’t nearly the length of Gideon’s, but it fell attractively across his forehead, framing eyes that I knew were green although no one would be able to tell in the club’s lighting. “How’s the ad biz treating you?”

“I love my job!”

He laughed at my enthusiasm. “If only we could all say that.”

“I thought you liked working with Stanton.”

“I do. Like the money, too. Can’t say I love the job, though.”

The waitress brought his scotch on the rocks, and we clinked glasses.

“Who are you here with?” I asked him.

“A couple friends”—he looked around—“who are lost in the jungle. You?”

“Same.” I caught Lacey’s eye on the dance floor and she gave me two thumbs up. “Are you seeing anyone, Martin?”

His smile widened. “No.”

“You like blondes?”

“Are you hitting on me?”

“Not quite.” I raised my brows at Lacey and jerked my head toward Martin. She looked surprised for a minute, then grinned and rushed over.

I introduced them and felt pretty good about the way they hit it off. Martin was always fun and charming, and Lacey was vivacious and attractive in a unique way—more charismatic than beautiful.

Megumi made her way back over and we did another round of shots before Martin asked Lacey to dance.

“You got any other hot guys in your pocket?” Megumi asked, as the couple melted away.

I was wishing I had my smartphone in my pocket. “You’re miserable, girl.”

She looked at me for a long minute. Then her lips twisted. “I’m drunk.”

“That, too. Want another shot?”

“Why not?”

We did a shot each, polishing them off just as Shawna came back with Lacey, Martin, and his two friends, Kurt and Andre. Kurt was gorgeous, with sandy brown hair, square jaw, and cocky smile. Andre was cute, too, with a mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes and shoulder-length dreadlocks. He focused on Megumi, which cheered her right up.

Our expanded group was roaring with laughter in no time.

“And when Kurt came back from the bathroom,” Martin finished his story, “he sacked the whole restaurant.”

Andre and Martin started howling. Kurt threw limes at them.

“What does that mean?” I asked, smiling even though I didn’t get the punch line.

“It’s when you leave your sac hanging out of your fly,” Andre explained. “At first people can’t figure out what it is they’re seeing, then they try to figure out if you just somehow don’t know your nads are swinging in the breeze. No one says a word.”

“No shit?” Shawna nearly fell off her chair.

We got so rowdy, our waitress asked us to tone it down—with a smile. I caught her by the elbow before she walked away. “Is there a phone I can use?”

“Just ask one of the bartenders,” she said. “Tell them Dennis—he’s the manager—okayed it and they’ll hook you up.”

“Thanks.” I slid off my seat as she moved on to another table. I had no idea who Dennis was, but I’d just been going with the flow all night, knowing Gideon would’ve set up everything flawlessly. “Anyone up for water?” I asked the group.

I got booed and pelted with wadded-up napkins. Laughing, I went to the bar and waited for an opening to ask for Pellegrino and the phone. I dialed Gideon’s cell number, since it was the one I had memorized. I figured it was safe since I was calling from a public place he owned.

“Cross,” he answered briskly.

“Hi, ace.” I leaned into the bar and covered my other ear with my hand. “I’m drunk-dialing you.”

“I can tell.” His voice changed for me, slowed and grew warm. It captivated me even over the music. “Are you having a good time?”

“Yes, but I miss you. Did you take your vitamins?”

He had a smile in his voice when he asked, “Are you horny, angel?”

“It’s your fault! This club is like Viagra. I’m hot and sweaty and dripping in pheromones. And I’ve been a bad girl, you know. Dancing like I’m single.”

“Bad girls get punished.”

“Maybe I should be really bad, then. Make the punishment worth it.”

He growled. “Come home and be bad with me.”

The thought of him at home, ready for me, made me even more eager for him. “I’m stuck here ’til the girls are done, which looks to be a while.”

“I can come to you. Within twenty minutes, you could have my cock inside you. Do you want that?”

I glanced around the club, my entire body vibrating with the hard-driving music. Imagining him here, fucking me in this no-holds-barred place, made me squirm with anticipation. “Yes. I want that.”

“Do you see the skywalk?”

Turning around, I looked up and saw the suspended walkway hugging the walls. Dancers dry-fucked to the music from twenty feet above the dance floor. “Yes.”

“There’s a section where it wraps around a mirrored corner. I’ll meet you there. Be ready, Eva,” he ordered. “I want your cunt naked and wet when I find you.”

I shivered at the familiar command, knowing it meant he’d be rough and impatient. Just what I wanted. “I’m wearing a—”

“Angel, a crowd of millions couldn’t hide you from me. I found you once. I’ll always find you.”

Longing seared my veins. “Hurry.”

Reaching over to replace the receiver on the business side of the bar, I grabbed my mineral water and drank until the bottle was empty. Then I headed to the bathroom, where I waited in line forever in order to get ready for Gideon. I was giddy with booze and excitement, so thrilled that my boyfriend—arguably one of the busiest men in the world—would drop everything to … service me.

I licked my lips, shifting on my feet.

I hurried through the ladies’ room to a stall, ditching my panties before hitting the sink and mirror to freshen up with a damp napkin. Most of my makeup had melted off, leaving me with smudged eyes and cheeks reddened by heat and exertion. My hair was a mess, both wildly mussed and wet around my face.

Oddly, I didn’t look half bad. I looked sexual and ready.

Lacey was in line and I stopped by her as I inched my way through the crowded bathroom threshold.

“Having fun?” I asked her.

“Yeah!” She grinned. “Thanks for introducing me to your cousin.”

I didn’t bother to correct her. “You’re welcome. Can I ask you something? About Michael?”

Shrugging, she said, “Go for it.”

“You went out with him first. What didn’t you like about him?”

“No chemistry. Good-looking guy. Successful. Sadly, I didn’t want to fuck him.”

“Toss him back,” the girl next in line interjected.

“I did.”

“Okay.” I could totally respect not progressing with a relationship lacking sexual heat, but I was still bothered by the situation. I didn’t like seeing Megumi so bummed. “I’m going to go grind against some hot guy.”

“Hit it, girl,” Lacey said with a nod.

I took off in search of the stairs to the skywalk. I found them guarded by a bouncer policing the number of bodies allowed to venture up. There was a line and I eyed it with dismay.

As I debated how much of a delay I was facing, the bouncer unfolded his powerful arms from across his chest and pressed his earpiece deeper into his ear with one hand, clearly focusing on whatever was being relayed through his receiver. He could have been Samoan or Maori, with dark caramel skin, a shaved head, and massive barrel chest and biceps. He had a baby face and was downright adorable when his fierce scowl was replaced by a wide grin.

His hand dropped away from his ear and he crooked a finger at me. “You Eva?”

I nodded.

He reached behind him and unhooked the velvet rope blocking the stairway. “Head on up.”

A roar of protests came from those who were waiting. I offered an apologetic smile, then raced up the metal stairs as fast as my heels would allow. When I reached the top, a female bouncer let me through and pointed to my left. I saw the corner Gideon had mentioned, where two mirrored walls connected and the skywalk wrapped around it in an L shape.

I weaved my way through writhing bodies, my pulse rate increasing with every step. The music was less loud up here and the air more humid. Sweat glistened on exposed skin and the elevation lent a sense of danger, even though the glass railing surrounding the skywalk was shoulder-high. I was almost to the mirrored section when I was caught around the waist and pulled back into a man’s rolling hips.

Looking over my shoulder, I saw the guy I’d danced with before, the one who’d called me beautiful. I smiled and started dancing, closing my eyes to lose myself in the music. When his hands started to slide over my waist, I caught them, pinning them to my hips with my own. He laughed and dipped his knees, aligning his body with mine.

We were three songs out before I felt the ripple of awareness that told me Gideon was nearby. The electrical charge swept over my skin, heightening every sensation. Abruptly the music was louder, the temperature hotter, the sensuality of the club more arousing.

I smiled and opened my eyes, spotting him arrowing toward me. I was instantly hot for him, my mouth watering as I ate up the sight of him in a dark T-shirt and jeans, his hair pulled back from that breathtaking face. No one seeing him would put him together with Gideon Cross, the international mogul. This guy appeared younger and rougher, distinctive only for his incredible smokin’ hotness. I licked my lips with anticipation, leaning into the guy behind me and rubbing my ass voluptuously into the next roll of his hips.

Gideon’s hands fisted at his sides, his posture aggressive and predatory. He didn’t slow as he neared me, his body on a collision course with mine. Turning, I met him the last step, surging into him. Our bodies crashed together, my arms encircling his shoulders and my hands pulling his head down so I could take his mouth in a wet, hungry kiss.

With a growl, Gideon cupped my ass and yanked me up hard against him, my feet leaving the floor. He bruised my lips with the ferocity of his passion, his tongue filling my mouth with hard, deep plunges that warned me of the violent shades of his lust.

The guy I’d been dancing with came up behind me, his hands in my hair and his lips at my shoulder blade.

Gideon pulled back, his face a gorgeous mask of fury. “Get lost.”

I looked at the guy and gave a shrug. “Thanks for the dance.”

“Anytime, beautiful.” He caught the hips of a girl walking by and moved away.

“Angel.” With a growl, Gideon pressed me into the mirror, his hard thigh thrust between my legs. “You’re a bad girl.”

Shameless and eager, I rode him, gasping at the feel of denim against my tender sex. “Only for you.”

He gripped my bare buttocks beneath my dress, spurring me on. His teeth caught the shell of my ear, my silver chandelier earrings brushing my neck. He was breathing hard, low rumbles vibrating in his chest. He smelled so good and my body responded, trained to associate his scent with the wildest, hottest of pleasures.

We danced, straining together, our bodies moving as if there were no clothes between us. The music pounded around us, through us, and he moved his amazing body to it, captivating me. We’d danced before, ballroom style, but never like this. This sweaty, dirty grinding. I was surprised, turned on, fell even deeper in love.

Gideon watched me with a hooded gaze, seducing me with his need and his uninhibited moves. I was lost in him, wrapped around him, clawing to get closer.

He kneaded my breast through the thin black jersey of my spaghetti-strapped dress. The built-in shelf bra was no barrier. His fingers stroked, then tugged the hardened point of my nipple.

As I moaned, my head fell back against the mirror. Dozens of people surrounded us and I didn’t care. I just needed his hands on me, his body against mine, his breath on my skin.

“You want me,” he said harshly, “right here.”

I quivered at the thought. “Would you?”

“You want them to watch. You want them to see me fuck my cock into your greedy little cunt until you’re dripping in cum. You want me to prove you’re mine.” His teeth sank into the top of my shoulder. “Make you feel it.”

“I want to prove that you’re mine,” I shot back, shoving my hands into the pockets of his jeans to feel his hard ass flex. “I want everyone to know it.”

Gideon hitched one arm beneath my rear and lifted me, his other hand slapping flat against a pad on the wall by the mirror. I heard a faint beeping, and then a door opened in the mirror at my back and we stepped into almost total darkness. The concealed entrance closed behind us, muting the music. We were in an office, with a desk, a seating area, and a 180-degree view of the club through two-way mirrors.

He put me down and spun me, pinning my front to the transparent side of the glass. The club was spread out before me, the dancers on the skywalk only inches away. His hands were up my skirt and in the bodice of my dress, fingers sliding into my cleft and rolling my nipple.

I was snared. His big body covered mine, his arms around me, torso to hips, his teeth in my shoulder holding me in place. He owned me.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured, his lips drifting up my throat. “Safeword before I scare you.”

Emotion flooded me, gratitude for this man who always—always—thought of me first. “I provoked you. I want to be taken. I want you wild.”

“You’re so hot for it,” he purred, pumping two fingers quick and hard into me. “You were made for fucking.”

“Made for you,” I gasped, my breath fogging the glass. I was on fire for him, my desire pouring out from the inside, from the well of love I couldn’t contain.

“Did you forget that tonight?” His hand left my sex to reach between us and yank open his fly. “When other men were touching you, rubbing against you? Did you forget you’re mine?”

“Never. I never forget.” My eyes closed as his erection, so stiff and warm, rested heavily against the bare cheek of my ass. He was hot for it, too. Hot for me. “I called you. Wanted you.”

His lips moved over my skin, forging a scorching trail to my mouth. “Take me, then, angel,” he coaxed, his tongue touching mine with teasing licks. “Put me inside you.”

Arching my back, I reached between my legs, my hand circling his thickness. He bent his knees, lining himself up for me.

I paused, turning my head to press my cheek to his. I loved that I could have this with him … be this way with him. Circling my hips, I stroked my clit with the wide crest of his cock, making him slick with my arousal.

Gideon squeezed my swollen breasts, plumping them. “Lean into me, Eva. Push away from the glass.”

With my palm to the two-way mirror, I pushed back, my head pillowed on his shoulder. He wrapped my throat with his hand, gripped my hip, and thrust so hard into me that my feet left the floor. He held me there, suspended in his arms, filled with his cock, his groan cascading over my senses.

On the other side of the glass, the club raged on. I abandoned myself to the wickedly intense pleasure of seemingly exhibitionist sex, an illicit fantasy that always drove us wild.

I writhed, unable to bear the decadent pressure. My hand between my legs reached lower, cradled his sac. He was tight and full, so ready. And inside me … “Oh God. You’re so hard.”

“I was made to fuck you,” he whispered, sending shivers of delight through me.

“Do it.” I set both hands on the glass, beyond needy. “Do it now.”

Gideon lowered me to my feet, his hands steadying me as I bent at the waist, opening myself to him so he could slide deep. A low, keening cry escaped as he seized my hips and angled me, knowing just how to position me to make me fit him. He was too big for me, too long and thick. The stretching was intense. Delicious.

My core trembled, clenching desperately around him. He made a rough sound of pleasure, pulling out just a little before sliding back slowly. Again, then again. The wide crest of his cock massaging the bundle of nerves deep inside me that only he’d ever reached.

Fingers clawing restlessly, leaving steamy trails on the glass, I moaned. I was achingly aware of the distant throb of the music and the mass of people I saw as clearly as if they were in the room with us.

“That’s it, angel,” he said urgently. “Let me hear how much you like it.”

“Gideon.” My legs shook violently on a particularly skillful stroke, my weight supported only by the glass and his secure hold.

I was unbearably excited, greedy, feeling both the submission of my pose and the dominance of being serviced. I could do nothing but take what Gideon gave me, the rhythmic slide and retreat, the sounds of his hunger. The scrape of his jeans against my thighs told me he’d pushed them down only far enough to free his cock, a sign of impatience that thrilled me.

One of his hands left my hip, then returned to rest atop my ass. I felt the pad of his thumb, wet from his mouth, rubbing over the tight pucker of my rear.

“No,” I begged, afraid I’d lose my mind. But it wasn’t my safeword—Crossfire—and I flowered open for him, giving way under the questing pressure.

He growled as he claimed that dark place. He came over me, his other hand moving to finger my sex, to spread me and rub my pulsing clit. “Mine,” he said gruffly. “You’re mine.”

It was too much. I came with a scream, shaking violently, my hands squeaking on the glass as my sweaty palms slipped. He began pounding the ecstasy into me, his thumb in my rear an irresistible torment, his clever fingers on my clit driving me insane. One orgasm rolled into another, my sex rippling along his plunging cock.

He made a rough sound of desire and swelled inside me, chasing his climax. I gasped, “Don’t come! Not yet.”

Gideon’s tempo slowed, his breathing harsh in the darkness. “How do you want me?”

“I want to watch you.” I moaned as my core tightened again. “Want to see your face.”

He withdrew and pulled me upright. Turned and lifted me. Pressed me to the glass and thrust hard into me. In that moment of possession, he gave me what I needed. The glazed look of helpless pleasure, the instant of vulnerability before the lust seized his control.

“You want to watch me lose it,” he said hoarsely.

“Yes.” I pulled the straps from my shoulders and exposed my breasts, lifting and squeezing them, toying with my nipples. The glass was vibrating with the beat against my back; Gideon was vibrating against my front, his body barely reined.

I pressed my lips to his, absorbing his panting breaths. “Let go,” I whispered.

Holding me effortlessly, he withdrew, dragging the thick, heavy crown across the hypersensitive tissues inside me. Then he powered into me, taking me to my limits.

“Ah, God.” I writhed in his grip. “You’re so deep.”


He fucked me hard, thrusting like a man possessed. I held on, trembling, spread wide for the relentless drives of his rigid penis. He was lost to instinct, the insistent desire to mate. Raw moans spilled from him, making me so hot and slick that my body offered no resistance, welcoming his desperate need.

It was rough and messy and sexy as hell. His neck arched and he gasped my name.

“Come for me,” I demanded, tightening around him, squeezing.

His whole body jerked hard, then shuddered. His mouth twisted in a grimace of agonized bliss, his eyes losing their focus as the climax built.

Gideon came with an animal roar, spurting so hard I felt it. Over and over, heating me from the inside with thick washes of semen.

My lips were all over him, my arms and legs holding tight.

He collapsed against me, his lungs heaving for breath.

Still coming.

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