The Gideon Affair

Her mouth opened on his urging, his tongue wasting no time going deep. She tasted so fucking good and the soft whimpers she made as he devoured her mouth made his cock even harder.

What the hell were they doing? One minute, it was an i

“Oh, my god, Paige,” he wheezed through desperate breaths as he tried to calm their passion. She didn’t seem to notice. Or care. Mostly, she kept squirming against his dick and greedily chasing his lips for more.

“Sweetheart,” he begged in a husky voice. His control was hanging by a thread. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

Hello, ice-cold water. Sheesh.

Wanting to scream as he carefully set her on two very unsteady legs, Paige grasped at emotional straws to get through.

Did she know what she was doing? I mean, after all, wasn’t she the one who got all sulky and proclaimed that she wouldn’t be sleeping with him.

Edward cupped the sides of her face with his beautiful, big hands and forced her to look at him. Didn’t he know that those blue eyes of his rendered her witless and giggly?

“Talk to me. I need you to let me in, Paige.”

With his thumbs softly sweeping her cheeks, she fell headlong into his gaze and rather spectacularly lost her way. Holding on to his wrists, she took a deep breath and let go of her emotions. This was a moment to be authentic and to do that she had to be flying free.

“Do you ever wonder,” she asked in a serious, hushed murmur, “when you see other couples, whether they were friends first or second.”

She couldn’t read very much in his bemused expression as he thought about her question. Maybe she’d put it badly.

“You know, like Sam and Troy. They met, hit it off, and immediately started having angry, loud monkey sex. Then boom, they got married. Life went on though I’m not so sure about the primate sex. Then they had a kid and before the little guy is three, they’re spitting at each other in a lawyer’s office.”

His solemn nod tugged at her heart. “That shit’s fucked up.”

She held tight to his wrists. “Right. It is. So … when were they friends? Or were they ever friends? Does that make sense?”

It would have been fine and dandy with her if they stood there all night, his hands on her face and his just inches from hers.

Edward lowered his forehead to hers for a second, and then kissed the tip of her nose.

“I understand. You’re questioning how relationships begin. Whether raucous monkey loving first sets a couple up for problems later. They never took the time to explore the bedrock of any relationship—the friendship.”

“Yes,” she growled dramatically. “That’s exactly what I mean. Edward,” she exclaimed with a short sigh, “we’re already friends and …”

“Correction, Miss Turner. You’re my best friend and that has to count for something.”

“Come on,” she urged, turning from his embrace. “Let’s go inside. If we’re going to talk about this, I can’t have the wind blowing up my skirt.” When he chuckled at her jest, she smiled, too. “I’m serious, Ba

“What,” he bellowed in mock outrage. “Nobody tickles your bottom but me, sweetheart.” And with that, he dipped a shoulder and in two seconds had hoisted her until she was hanging down his back with her legs flailing about. He wrapped them in his arm and smacked her butt. “Be still or I might drop you.”

“Edward! My god! Be serious and put me down,” she yelped.

He did no such thing, marching them into the house, and even stopping to secure the patio doors, then headed straight for the living room. Dumping her into an unladylike sprawl on the enormous sectional, he pretended not to notice her sputtering with a tongue-firmly-in-cheek smirk.

“I think we need an Irish coffee. Warm us up. You turn on the fireplace,” he told her as he pushed the smart home pad into her hands. “So what’s your pleasure, sweetheart? Unleaded Baileys or full power Jameson?”

She harrumphed for good measure but started working the tech device. My word but he was bossy sometimes. “I’m not driving, so Jameson’s fine for me, thanks.”

He started to walk away but stopped and turned back around. “I’d offer you a hoodie for warmth, but that’d deprive me of staring at your pretty nipples.” His half-embarrassed shrug made him look like a little boy who just got caught with his dad’s nudie magazines.

“I’ll survive your brutish ways," she quipped. “But don’t think I’m not telling your mom how mean you are.”

“I’ll dial the phone.”

Paige stood and threw the controller onto the sofa. “You. Kitchen. Coffee. Now,” she commanded with her finger pointing the way. “I gotta pee.”

“Oh, that’s nice, Miss Turner. Thanks for sharing,” he hollered after her as she scooted into the half bath behind the kitchen.

“I’ll be damned,” Edward muttered out loud. “These look pretty good to me.”

On the counter sat two beautifully prepared Irish coffees and a small plate of vanilla biscotti he’d picked up at the farmer’s market. He didn’t doubt that Paige knew full well that he’d deliberately defused the sexual tension with the coffee suggestion so she could catch her breath. Him, too, if he were being honest.

It wasn’t hard to imagine what she was thinking. She was being pretty transparent, and he was a couple of steps ahead of her having already picked apart the friends versus lovers scenario.

They hadn’t just met. Tonight might have been a first date, but their friendship was already well into the deep and meaningful territory. They didn’t have to wonder if they were compatible because they already knew. The great unknown was what happened to that closeness after they became lovers. He had quite a lot to say about the subject—so, coffee it was.

He found her on the sofa, her legs tucked under her bottom, both arms on the cushioned back with her head lying sideways on top, as she looked toward the windows. Her hair was down, her feet bare. All she had on was a slinky dress with no bra. She’d had a thong on before. He knew this from their tickle attack on the sofa at her house. Whether she still wore it was a mystery he hoped to solve.

“High octane, as requested.”

When she turned from the window, her pensive look reminded Edward that she was an uncommon treasure. A rare find. He knew for sure that he’d only be happy if she were in his life. Permanently.

“Thanks.”

He joined her on the sofa draping an arm across the back so he’d be able to touch her back and shoulders. The silence deepened while they sat side by side, sipping the fragrant, intoxicating drink. She said nothing, but he could hear her mind working.

“Back to Samantha, Troy, and their shitty example of a relationship.”

She arched a brow as she sipped.

“Look, I like both of them, but let’s be honest. Those two were shitheads from the start.”

“Humph.” Her head nodded infinitesimally, but the agreement came across loud and clear.

“Now that you’ve brought it up, I also have to wonder if it’s possible to go from sex partner to friend. Hormones would always cloud the picture, you know?”

They sipped in silence. He was making this shit up as he went along and was being extra careful to think through what he was saying.

“I knew a couple of years ago that fucking you was not an option.”

Okay, yeah. He had to admit he’d framed his statement that way to get a reaction out of her. He expected shock. Or outrage. What he got was all the color draining from her face and the sheen of tears sparkling in her eyes. Oh, fuck. My bad. Say the rest, you idiot!