Page 25

WINNOW

A fter heaping a mountain of rice, finely chopped mixed vegetables, and ground turkey meat into a large silver bowl, Gideon lets Trigger out the back door to eat on the porch.

It’s been a long time since I’ve dredged up those memories.

Without even telling him half the shit I went through, I have to focus on my breaths to not let dread consume me.

Even though I barely know this man or his home, something deep in my soul feels right just being near him, and I can’t help but fear that all of it will be ripped away.

“I’m gonna take a shower while he eats and takes care of his business. If he scratches at the door before I get back, you can let him in, but if anyone knocks, don’t answer it. Just wait for me, ok?”

A soft smile belies the butterflies in my belly as I try my best to give him a chipper, “Yes, sir.”

Gideon’s gaze lingers on mine for a moment. I swear to Akash that electricity courses between us. A single moment beneath his gaze has the heat in my core reigniting.

Sacred mother of fuck, I have never been so attracted to a male.

Gideon rises from his seat at the bartop of his kitchen counter and leans in so close to me that his lips brush my forehead as his hand cradles the back of my head.

“Thank you for confiding in me, angel.”

My eyes slip shut as I revel in his touch.

“Thank you for everything, ferion .”

My eyes pop open at the intimate endearment that so easily slipped from my lips.

Tension tightens Gideon’s expression. “Who the shit is ferion ?”

Clearing my throat, I attempt to muster some semblance of nonchalance.

“In Caerwynath, it’s a common term of endearment between intimate partners. It means ‘ the one I am feral for’.”

I straighten, trying to pull away from him as my cheeks burn with hot-faced shame. “Sorry, saying it aloud makes me realize how fucking weird that probably sounds.”

Searching my gaze, Gideon’s hand in my hair tightens, allowing me to put absolutely zero distance between us. “Are you though?”

My cheeks, somehow, redden further as my throat works around a dry-as-sand ball of humiliation. Gideon urges me to answer by pulling my body flush against his.

“Are you feral for me, angel?”

Heaving an exasperated breath, I narrow my gaze. “I mean, I was… but this sadistic interrogation is certainly making me second-guess myself.”

Gideon’s lip twitches with amusement before pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead, and somehow that one small act is everything.

“Well, I’m unashamed to admit that feral is an understatement as to how you make me feel.”

“Oh?”

“I think perhaps savage or bestial might be a little more accurate.”

Gideon’s lips part on a grin as mischief glints in his eyes.

“Rabid, even.”

Gideon suddenly lets loose a primal growl and buries his face in my neck with a snarl.

A shriek of laughter escapes me as he continues, and his beard tickles the sensitive skin of my neck.

Helpless to escape his arms wrapped around me like two solid tree trunks, I’m reduced to a writhing, squirming, squealing, hysterical mass of laughter until he finally stops and allows me to breathe.

My hysteria is promptly replaced by a sudden swell of affection. Every single point of contact where this man’s body touches touches mine tingles with awareness.

Arousal curls low in my belly as Gideon proceeds to trace the tip of his nose against the column of my neck, and oh-my-fuck.

I think he’s right.

Feral is a fucking understatement.

I want to peel this man’s clothes off with my teeth and burrow inside him. I want to gently carve a nest inside this man’s chest and call it home. I want–

My spiralling thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Gideon’s groan as lips graze my throat.

“Everything about you feels so fucking right, Winnow.”

Akash almighty. It really fucking does.

Before I can summon the courage to admit it, he pulls away with a soft grunt. Like it takes as much effort for him to put distance between us as it does for me to not cling to him.

His voice is little more than husk.

“I’ll be back in just a few, angel.”

Gideon turns and strides down the hall toward his bedroom as I remain frozen in place—a little shell-shocked at everything about this man and our connection.

A few moments later, the bedroom door shuts, and I hear the shower turn on. My gaze slides to the open living room and lands on the couch, the pull-out bed already tucked away, blankets and pillows neatly piled on one end.

I take the liberty of opening it up for him and making his bed.

And then I’m left standing there with my heart yearning, my clit still tingling, and a moment of solitude.

Before I can think better of it, I slide between his sheets and bury my face in one of his pillows.

His scent of evergreen and leather, plus the woody smell of his house, lingers on the cloth, and I deeply inhale.

That newly formed, ever-present ache in my chest is becoming increasingly cumbersome.

My hands are tugging Gideon’s boxer-briefs down to my thighs as I raise my bent knees to either side of my torso. My left-hand draws his shirt up around my breasts—nipples already peaked and aching—and begins to tease them as the index and middle fingers of my right-hand slide between my thighs.

I know I don’t have long, so I don’t waste time.

My fingers draw firm, wet circles around the needy bud, imagining Gideon’s gorgeous face between my thighs, lapping away as he holds my gaze and sucks my clit.

In what I’m guessing is just a few minutes, Gideon’s name is a whispered prayer on my tongue as I cum.

With a heaved sigh, I lay there feeling like a shameful pervert for having just masturbated in someone else’s bed—let alone a man who has helped me in more ways than most anyone would with a complete stranger.

The sound of the water shutting off in the bathroom has me springing into action, pulling his boxers back up my hips, and leaping out of his bed to tidy the sheets and blanket.

The bedroom door opens just as I finish, and I’m internally cursing because I know my cheeks are still flushed from orgasm, embarrassment, and at least a small amount of shame.

Gideon strides into the room with tousled damp hair, a form-fitting black t-shirt that kisses every muscle of his chest and arms, and dark blue pajama pants, in which I can very clearly see the outline of his impressive cock.

It is a small mercy that he misses the uncontrollable dip in my eyeline because his eyes shift to the made bed.

A soft smile curls a corner of his mouth. “You didn’t have to do that, darlin’.”

With a nonchalant shrug, I boast an innocent grin.

“Well, I figured the least I could do was make my own bed.”

Gideon’s mouth splits in a devastating grin as he gives a deep chuckle. “You prepared to fight me for it, angel?”

My mouth pops open, and I don’t miss the way his eyes track the movement. I clear my throat, pushing away the delicious and depraved images that I imagine are filling both of our minds.

“Fight you how? A battle of brute strength? Wits?”

Gideon chuckles. “I’ve got a deck of cards.”

Aw shit.

Gideon’s lips twitch at the sight of my burgeoning frown.

“What’s the matter, darlin’? They don’t play cards in Europe?”

Heaving a sigh, I plop down on his bed. “Oh, they do. I just… wasn’t allowed to play growing up, and as an adult, it just never happened.”

He frowns at that, but blessedly doesn’t pry.

“Well, I can show you if you like. Never too late.”

I smirk. “That still doesn’t resolve the bed situation. At least not in my favor.”

Gideon chuckles, mischief twinkling in his eyes at his subtle ruse as he comes to sit down next to me.

Leaning against the backrest of the couch, he threads his fingers together behind his head, making his biceps bulge.

It proves a pleasing distraction that has every other thought dissolving even if I don’t allow myself the guilty pleasure of staring directly at them.

“We could thumb wrestle for it.”

My gaze slides back to his as surprised laughter bubbles out of me, and a moment passes where we share an appreciative grin.

“You’re on, cowboy.”

Our heated moment is broken by the sound of Trigger politely clawing at the back door.

Gideon gets up to let him in, and Trigger comes bounding into the living room, body swaying as he whines and begs me for pets like he hasn’t seen me in months.

Yet another thing that makes my heart give lovesick thumps.

Divine fuck, how is that between these two, in barely any time at all, I feel more at home here than I ever have anywhere else?

My gut gives an internal twist at the reminder that in only a month or two, I’ll need to feed.

Regularly. Maybe I can sneak off into the woods and find a rabbit, and pray to Akash it will suffice.

That thought makes me feel even worse. Even if I only need a few sips, I can’t imagine bringing anyone or anything harm.

How cruel is fate that I might have found the place where I feel most at home in a place where it might eventually kill me to stay?

Gideon returns to his seat on the bed beside me as I continue to shower a gradually calming Trigger with my affection. He begins to paw at the bed, a request for permission. Gideon immediately makes an admonishing noise that shuts him down.

My eyes narrow at him. “Mean Daddy.”

Gideon’s gaze darkens as it returns to mine, and his voice takes on a notably huskier tone before clearing his throat.

“He knows better.”