Chapter 15

15

Gideon followed André out of the med unit, leaving Samir behind to find out what else Ennis had to say. He rushed after André, finally catching up with him in the elevator headed back up to the penthouse.

Stepping in beside him, Gideon didn't speak. Truth was, from the moment he'd burst into André's apartment, he'd struggled to find words, what with his heart being lodged in his fucking throat. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been as scared as he'd been walking into André's kitchen and seeing the other man on his knees, struggling to protect himself and his sister.

If Gideon had been a minute late—if he'd taken the stairs instead of the elevator—the outcome could've been so fucking different. Just thinking it made his chest hurt and had him ready to kill.

Jules had clung to him in the aftermath and Gideon had held on to her just as tightly. She'd soothed him as he'd tried to soothe her, but the anger inside him still blazed hot.

As did the fear and panic.

He still couldn't make himself stare at André too long, otherwise Gideon would pounce on him, hang on to him and never let him go. He still needed the reassurance that André was fine. That Jules was okay. But they were safe. Gideon had protected them, and they were back where they were supposed to be.

With him.

He stood as close to André as he could, and he felt the confusion and frustration pouring off the other man. With everything that happened tonight, and then add the whole Ennis situation…Gideon knew André had to be reeling. Hell, Gideon was reeling.

When the elevator doors opened up into the penthouse, Gideon uttered one word. "Come." He stepped out, not checking if André followed; the hesitant sound of footsteps behind Gideon said he did. Gideon led him to his office and closed the door after André entered, then walked over to the bar and poured two drinks.

He turned, holding one out to André. "Drink."

André took it, waiting until Gideon tossed his back with a grimace before doing the same.

"Shit!" André blinked rapidly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "The fuck was that?"

"What you needed. What we both needed." Gideon poured himself another drink, offering the same to André, who shook his head in refusal. That meant more for Gideon. He hadn't gotten shit-faced in a very long time, but tonight just might end the drought.

André dropped into a nearby chair with a loud sigh, head bowed, shoulders hunched. Gideon studied him, aching to touch him, but he wasn't sure that his touch would be welcomed.

"I'm sorry." André brought his head up, gaze landing—and staying—on Gideon. "What happened tonight—" He blew out a heavy breath. "It wouldn't have happened if we'd been here. I fucked up." His voice cracked. "Jules is traumatized because of me."

Shit. The emotions in his voice, on his face, tore at Gideon. He put his drink down and then went to André, kneeling at his side, taking his hand. "Jules is safe. You're safe." The idea that they might not have been—that they could have so easily been taken from him—had Gideon clearing the fear out of his throat. "You didn't know the true extent of what was going on." Neither had Gideon, and he still beat himself up about that. He should have looked into Ennis's daughter before making his plans. He should have asked more questions.

In hindsight, there were so many things he could have—and should have—done to prevent what happened tonight.

"Jules is strong," Gideon said softly. "We'll make sure she gets the help she needs. Whatever that looks like." He hadn't gotten any help when his mother had gotten killed in front of him. His father had simply whisked him away and left him to deal with all of that by himself. He'd loved his father and adored the fuck out of him, but Aldo had his faults too. He'd made mistakes too. Gideon just needed to ensure he didn't repeat them.

André gazed down at him, tears shimmering in his eyes though they didn't fall. "I wish I'd listened to you."

Gideon wished the same, but what was done, was done. They couldn't go back and change things. All they could do was move forward. He stroked a finger across André's wrist. "You're here now." He swallowed. "That's what matters." All his fucking plans had gone up in smoke and Gideon didn't even care. He still had a million questions for Ennis, but they could wait. As messed up as he was, thanks to his daughter, Ennis wasn't going anywhere.

"Do you believe him?" André asked. "You believe Ennis?"

Gideon sat back, staring into his eyes as he answered, "I do." He'd expected Ennis to be a cold, ruthless sonofabitch. And he was. But not when it came to his son. The man clearly loved André. He'd sacrificed a relationship with his son just to protect him, and Gideon understood that. His own father had acted similarly. Aldo had stashed him away, keeping him hidden for years, to protect Gideon from whoever would try to kill him.

Ennis had been Aldo's top suspect in the assassination of Gideon's mother, and he knew his father must be rolling over in his grave at the idea that he and Ennis had anything at all in common. But they did.

"What is—What is The Council and that whole proxy thing?" André asked with wide eyes. "It was like the two of you were speaking a whole new language down there."

Inhaling, Gideon stood and held out a hand. "I'll explain, but not now. You need some rest."

"No." André took the offered hand, allowing Gideon to pull him to his feet. "I need to be with Jules."

"Okay." He did promise they would return to her. "Let's go."

"Before we go." André tugged away from Gideon's grasp and squared his shoulders. "I know what I did, leaving so abruptly, fucked up whatever was building between us, and I'm just…" He shook his head. "I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry that I allowed my fear to run me off."

What? "Nothing is fucked up." And because he couldn't help it, Gideon hauled André into his chest, cupping the back of his head when the other man pressed his face into the crook of Gideon's neck. "Nothing is fucked up," Gideon assured him, ignoring the way his heart raced when André's warmth washed over him. He wrapped his arms around André, breath leaving him in a rush as a tremor ran through him. André was there, solid and whole. And safe. "Nothing is fucked up," Gideon whispered in his ear. "You're here with me, and that's all that matters."

André lifted his head, pulling away slightly so their eyes could meet. "And me being here, is that all you want?"

Not even close. "You know it's not."

André's lips curved slightly and the heaviness in his eyes melted a fraction. "Okay." He nodded. "Okay." He took Gideon's hand. "Let's go see Jules."

Gideon allowed André to lead, content to follow wherever the other man wanted to take them.

Jules fell asleep on André's chest. Finally. He and Gideon spent hours with her, distracting her with movies and silly games that she participated in half-heartedly. All André wanted was to take her mind off things, but he knew when morning came he would have to find someone they could trust to talk to her about what she'd experienced.

Something told him getting his sister to do that would be a battle in itself.

For the moment, though, she was asleep. He met Gideon's eyes, and the other man got up from where he sat at the opposite end of the couch in his huge home theater. When Gideon stood over him, André handed him Jules and then got to his feet.

He studied them for a moment—the way Gideon hugged Jules to his chest as if she was his own flesh and blood. He also recalled the way Gideon had worked overtime to make Jules smile tonight, teasing her, promising outrageous things that had André rolling his eyes, if only she would smile for them. The other man cared for Jules, that much was obvious, and André softened even more toward him.

Silently, they walked back to Jules's bedroom, where Gideon laid her on the bed gently, smoothing her hair away from her face while André pulled the blanket up over her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and Gideon dragged his knuckles down her cheek. Her lashes fluttered but she didn't wake.

André straightened and tapped on Gideon's shoulder when he kept staring down at Jules. "Come on," he whispered. A part of him wanted to remain in the room with her, didn't want to take his eyes off her, but he forced himself to step away. "Let her sleep." God knew she needed it.

Gideon turned away from Jules reluctantly and together they exited, André flipping off the lights before closing the door softly behind them. He nodded to the guard Gideon had posted outside… in case Jules needed anything , he'd told André.

Outside Jules's door, André hesitated. He didn't feel like going to bed; he knew what he wanted instead, but sudden trepidation had him hesitating, the words stuck somewhere in the back of his throat.

"André." Gideon touched his face, and André blinked at him as the other man stepped into his space, their chests brushing. He smelled warm, intoxicating, and immediately saliva flooded André's mouth. "Come with me." His voice was all gravel, abrading André's skin. Making him shudder.

That invitation wasn't an innocent or simple one. André knew that. Promises darkened Gideon's eyes, promises André would insist he followed through on. "Okay."

Gideon licked his lips before they curved into a hint of a smile. He didn't speak again, taking André's hand instead, linking their fingers as they strode away. André focused only on where they were connected, where they touched. The feel of Gideon's hand in his.

Heat spiraled through him, originating in his groin, hardening his dick to the point of being uncomfortable, then spreading. His breath hitched. He didn't think he'd ever wanted anything or anyone more than he wanted Gideon Winters. Maybe this was all a mistake, but he wouldn't regret making it.

In fact, he looked forward to it.

So, he let Gideon lead them away, and he followed the other man into the dark recesses of his bedroom that smelled subtly of Gideon. André immediately inhaled deeply, taking that scent into his lungs. The door closed at his back, then the light came on.

He turned away from the huge bed covered in white sheets and faced Gideon, who watched him with eyes turned bright with hunger. He hungered for André. Just the thought sent André's heart off at a gallop.

"Gideon." It took effort to speak.

"I thought about having you in here so many times." Gideon's tone was hushed as he stepped forward. He loved getting all up in André's space, but André didn't mind it, not then. Not at all. As he studied Gideon, the other man swallowed, the movement of his Adam's apple oddly erotic in the way it slid along his throat. "I didn't think I'd get the chance."

Because André had been so wishy-washy when dealing with him. But that was over and done. He knew what he wanted and he would take it for however long Gideon wanted to give it to him. "I'm here now," he whispered, cupping Gideon's cheek. "What do you want to do to me?"

Gideon's tongue flicked out, gliding along his bottom lip as flames leaped in his eyes. "I want to fuck you. I want you perched on my dick, crying out my name."

Fuck. André swallowed, a spasm rocking his body. Fuck.

Gideon moved then, backing André up until he was trapped between two immovable objects: Gideon and the wall. He pressed a hand to Gideon's chest, nails curling to dig into his skin through the fabric of his shirt. "Gideon."

The other man made a sound, hungry, rumbling, and dipped his head, pushing his nose into the crook of André's neck as André struggled to remain upright on legs that were basically cooked spaghetti at that point.

"Just like that." Gideon nipped him, teeth sharp, that pinch of pain so fucking sweet. André bucked against him. "I want to feed you my dick until you speak my name just like that. Like you're drowning and I'm the air you need to survive." His tongue dragged along André's neck, drawing a soundless cry.

André tipped his head back, hips hitching to press up against Gideon, seeking his heat, his hardness. His dick pulsed a rhythm that matched the racing of his heart. He wanted that too, what Gideon just said. He wanted all of it.

And so much more.

Gideon lifted his head then, taking André's face in hands that trembled, peering into his soul with lust-darkened eyes. "And I want to kiss you until you taste like me. And I taste like you."

André didn't know if he'd survive Gideon Winters with his soul intact. But he didn't care. He held the other man's gaze as he slid down his body, landing on his knees at Gideon's feet. Anchoring himself with a hold on Gideon's belt buckle, André told him, "Feed me your dick then."