Gideon - Book cover

Gideon

Nicole Riddley

Deep Trouble

LAYLA

No, my memory did not exaggerate the amazing scent from the other day.

If anything, it smells even better than I remember.

I decided to save this room for last because the scent is strongest here. But I still have a lot to do: clean his bathroom, dust, change the bedding, vacuum the floor…

I step deeper into the room, dragging the vacuum cleaner with me. But the closer I get to his bed, the more affected I am by the scent.

My breathing becomes labored, my heart is pounding fast, and my stomach is doing somersaults. My body thrums like a live wire.

I’ve never felt so excited yet so at peace all at once. I crave this feeling when I’m not here. My heart is longing for…something. Or someone. I don’t know anymore.

My brain tells me not to do anything crazy, but my body isn’t listening.

I lie down on the bed. I press my nose into the pillow and take a deep breath. Oh God…that smell. I want to swim in it. I want to immerse my whole being in it.

I breathe it in…again and again.

Just a minute longer…so calming, so soft…

My eyelids feel heavy.

Just one more minute…

***

Something is touching my face, my neck…so light and soft, just a whisper of a touch, but my whole body hums in pleasure.

My eyelids flutter open, and I’m looking into a pair of bright golden-yellow eyes. So beautiful. So mesmerizing. So intense. So…

So focused on me!

My own eyes widen in horror as reality breaks through my dream-like haze.

I fell asleep in a client’s bed! And now I’m having a staring contest with the hot owner of that bed!

I’m going to lose my job. No, worse—Beth is going to kill me.

I start to scramble away from him, but he growls—growls!—and the raw, animalistic rumble makes me freeze.

It’s a warning, and something inside me listens.

He crawls onto the bed with his intense golden eyes locked on mine, mesmerizing me like a predator slowly cornering its prey, who dares not move a muscle.

I know I’m the stupid prey in this scenario, but every instinct is telling me that running away would be a bad idea.

Besides, he’s really hot and smells awesome…

Wait, what?

Stupid instincts.

He crawls on top of me, and I gulp loudly as his weight presses me into the mattress, enveloping me in his addictive, amazing, masculine smell. I can hear my erratic heartbeat pounding in my ears.

My stomach hollows out as if I were on a roller coaster hurtling down from a great height.

My breathing is fast and ragged.

It’s part fear and part excitement.

I take in his features—his high cheekbones, his chiseled, angular jaw.

His plump, sensual pink lips.

His straight nose, strong, thick eyebrows, and dark bronze hair streaked with highlights from the sun.

But most of all, those unusual golden-yellow eyes framed by thick, dark eyelashes.

Staring down at me like I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever seen.

I’m in deep trouble…

That’s my last coherent thought before everything else fades around us.

His masculine scent weaves its magic on my senses. Those extraordinary eyes hold me captive. The air around us is thick, buzzing, and sizzling with electricity.

I’m so lost in him that I fail to register anything else around us.

Seconds, minutes, hours? I don’t know how long I’m lying there staring up at him, but when he finally moves, I feel like I’m waking up from a trance.

Oh my God! What have I done?

Somehow it has just registered in my brain that this man is not human. And not a werewolf either.

Oh my God, he’s a lycan!

My heart rate triples.

I recognize the smell from Quincy’s mate, Caspian, and his friends. But why didn’t I notice that before?

I’m only half werewolf and can’t shift like my siblings, but the one thing that I got from my father, apart from my looks, is a strong sense of smell.

Stronger than some werewolves’ even. Sometimes I swear I can even smell when someone is lying—their sweat glands work overtime.

The lycan’s studying me with the most intense expression—like he’s in awe, or like he can’t quite believe I’m real—then leans in close to my neck and inhales, breathing me in.

He closes his eyes like he’s savoring the best scent in the world, and I have the sudden urge to take a whiff of myself. I’ve been working since early this morning—I must stink.

Okay. This is the weirdest and most intense encounter I’ve ever had. And I have to remember that lycans are dangerous.

Very dangerous.

“Uh…hi,” I say finally.

He lifts his head up like he’s startled, then looks at me with those eyes.

Those eyes.

“Hello,” he says.

Oh my God, that voice.

“Hi,” I say again.

His lips slowly curl into an amused smile. “Hello.”

“Yeah, hello.” He has such a beautiful smile…

“Hi.” His smile widens.

“Hi.”

Wait, how many times are we going to say this? Oh, Layla, you’re such an idiot.

He looks like he’s struggling not to laugh. I just met the hottest guy on the planet, and he must think I’m ridiculous. And…he’s still on top of me.

In bed.

In his bed!

I scramble to get up, but his weight is pressing down on me, so all I’m really doing is squirming underneath him, my breasts rubbing against his chest, my hips grinding against his groin. His body is hard.

All over.

Oh!

I stop moving.

He pushes up on his arms, then slides his gaze down to where our bodies are still pressed together before he looks back into my eyes, which must be enormous right now.

The air around us is thick again. Electric. I see his Adam’s apple moving as he swallows, and all I want to do is put my mouth on his throat and lick it…

“Don’t move.”

I notice that he’s breathing fast, but before I can even register what he said, he rolls off me. I immediately feel a sense of loss—I want his weight back on me, want to feel his warm body, all of it, hard against mine.

The air feels cold where it touches my skin.

Oh my god! The skirt of my uniform has ridden up to the top of my thighs, and my Superman panties are showing! And I’m pretty sure he noticed before his eyes flickered up to my face.

I hurry to pull my skirt down, my face burning. And unfortunately, my brown skin is light enough to show the blush on my cheeks.

He offers me his hand to help me up, and when I take it, the heat and energy from his touch sends tingles through me, traveling all the way up my arm and down my spine, making my heart race even faster in my chest.

It feels good. Too good.

And maybe it’s just my imagination, but I feel his hand tighten briefly around mine before he releases it. As if he’s unwilling to let me go.

Now that we’re standing, I realize just how tall he is. I mean, I’m five nine, so a lot of times I can’t wear heels when I go out on dates. But this man towers over me. He must be around six five or something.

“What’s your name?” His voice is deep and sexy. And that posh British accent, mixed with something else, is seriously melting my panties.

Not my Superman panties, though—they’re underwear of steel.

Wait a minute. Am I in trouble? I did fall asleep on the job. In his bed. And he’s a lycan. Am I about to lose my job? My ~life~?

“Why?” I ask warily.

He raises an eyebrow. “I just want to know the name of the beautiful woman I’m talking to.”

Beautiful? I know I’m not a troll, but he can’t be flirting with me. I mean, this guy is so good-looking it’s insane.

And he’s a lycan, for goodness’ sake! Definitely way out of my league. Like, we’re on different planets kind of a different league.

So, no. I don’t think he’s flirting with me.

“It’s Layla,” I tell him finally.

“Layla.”

Somehow, listening to him saying my name in that voice, hearing the way it rolls off his tongue, makes a delicious chill run down my spine.

“Well…okay, I’d better get back to work.” I take a step back from him. “Lots to do, you know. Bathroom to clean, bed to make. Uh, yeah, about that—the sleeping in your bed thing? I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise.”

He takes a step toward me and I take another step back.

“I’ve never done that before, you know. I don’t make a habit of sleeping on strange men’s beds.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Not that I think you’re strange or anything,” I quickly amend.

Yeah, just a lycan… I should really stop talking.

“It’s just that I was so tired, you know? I’ve been cleaning since this morning, and I cleaned last night—”

His eyebrows swoop down like he’s angry about something, so I stop talking.

“Well, I’ll just, uh, get to it then.” I whirl around to escape, desperate to get away from this strange magnetic pull that I’m feeling for a stranger.

“You’re not cleaning my room,” he growls suddenly. “Or any other room. Not ever again.”

What?

I quickly turn back around to look at him. “Well, it’s kinda hard not to, since it’s my job and everything. Unless you’re reporting me to my boss. Wait! Are you? Are you going to get me fired?”

Oh my God, that’s it! “Look, I’m so sorry, okay? I promise I’ll never, ever, ever do that again. Like ever!” I can barely afford my rent this month, so I’m prepared to beg.

His eyes narrow. “Will you go out with me, Layla?”

Huh? “What?”

“Go out with me. Is tomorrow night good for you?”

“Um… I… I, uh… I work Friday nights.” Is he really asking me out? Me?

He frowns as if what I just said is offensive to him. “What about Saturday evening, then? I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Oh no, Saturday. My mom is pressuring me to go home for the usual family dinner. With Kofi.

Not only that, I said yes to that date with Derek. Though I don’t really feel like going out with him anymore. And I feel even less like going home and seeing Kofi across the dinner table.

But I’ve canceled on Derek a couple of times already, and that is so not cool.

Besides, isn’t this man living with someone? A fiancée or a girlfriend like Marnie said earlier today? That thought hurts.

No, it pisses me off.

“No, thanks,” I say stiffly. “That can’t happen.”

His eyes narrow. “Why? Do you already have a date? Are you seeing somebody else?”

He must have read something in my expression, some slight reaction, because his jaw clenches and his nostrils flare.

I suddenly find myself pressed against the wall next to the bed, his hands gripping my arms. He leans down and his nose and lips brush against my neck.

“Layla,” he breathes, his voice low and guttural.

The air is thick and charged, and I can feel the energy swirling around us. My heart thunders, and my breasts graze his torso with each ragged breath that I take.

“My Layla…” He runs his nose and lips farther down my neck till he reaches my collarbone. “Say you’re mine. Say there’s no one else.”

Oh, dear lord. My skin tingles from his touch, and tiny sparks travel through my body, pulsing through my veins and swimming in my blood.

I feel his warm, silky tongue touching my skin, tasting me, and I moan out loud and wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer.

He opens his mouth, then closes it around the curve where my neck meets my shoulder and starts sucking. My body goes up in flames.

Nothing has ever felt this good.

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