Gabriel's Inferno (Gabriel's Inferno 1)

“You are the true work of art,” he murmured against her throat. “You are the masterpiece. Happy birthday, Julianne.”

She gently tugged on his ear with her lips then kissed it softly. “Thank you.”

He kissed her firmly, begging her silently to open for him. Their tongues moved together, slowly. He was unhurried. It was just the two of them in an almost empty museum. He kissed her lips and her cheeks, walking her to a corner of the room, hesitantly backing her toward the wall.

His eyes were wary. “Is this all right?”

She nodded, breathlessly.

“If you want to stop, just tell me. I won’t let things go too far…but I need you.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in.

He pressed her gently against the wall, molding his body tightly to hers. Every muscle, every plane of his was met by corresponding curves and softness. His hands traveled down her sides and to her hips, hesitating.

She pressed herself more tightly to him in response. And all this time, their tongues and lips explored, never satisfied. His long, thin fingers slid to her back and down so that they were cupping her two rounded, delicious curves.

He squeezed tentatively, and smiled against her mouth when she moaned.

“You’re perfect. Every part of you. But this…” He squeezed her again and began kissing her with renewed vigor.

“Are you telling me you like my ass, Professor?”

Gabriel pulled back so that he could see her eyes. “Don’t call me that,”

he half-growled.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to think about all the university policies I’m breaking right now.”

Her smile disappeared, and Gabriel instantly felt regret.

“And I would never call the beauty of your backside an ass — it’s far too elegant for that. I would have to create a whole new word just to describe it in all of its glory.”

Now Julia laughed, and he squeezed her with both hands for good measure.

Professor Emerson is an ass man.

Her fingertips preferred his hair, stroking and weaving, tugging his face to hers. She could feel his heart beating against her chest. Her breathing stuttered, but she didn’t care. She loved him. She’d loved him since she was seventeen. And he’d been so sweet to her. In that instant she would have given him anything and damned the consequences. What consequences?  Her mind couldn’t even name them.

His fingers began to move, stroking her curves and kneading the flesh beneath them. His right hand slid down to cup her thigh, pulling her leg upward. He wrapped her leg around his hip, and she pressed against him, in an erotic tango against a wall. Now he could move. His hips pressed forward, while his hand traveled downward to support the back of her leg. She could feel him hard against her — a delightful pressure and tentative friction.

Julia couldn’t stop kissing long enough to consider how she had mastered the art of balance or breathing through Gabriel’s mouth. She felt emboldened to remove her hands from his hair, stroking his shoulders and waist before exploring his own delicious curves. Curves she had greatly admired on more than one occasion. Curves that were taut and muscular beneath her fingers. She pulled him more tightly against her, pressing her hands against him in encouragement.

He didn’t need to be encouraged. His hands teased up and down her sheer stockings, caressing her thigh. This was heaven. Breathing, panting, straining, kissing, feeling. He met with no resistance. No hesitation.

She accepted him. She wanted him. And her body was soft and warm and oh so receptive.

“Julia, I — we — have to stop.” He pulled back.

Her eyes were closed, and her lips were red and pouting. Now he hungered for her mouth even more.

Brushing the hair away from her face, he questioned softly, “Sweetheart?”

Her eyelids fluttered open.

He brought their foreheads together and inhaled her breath, all perfumed and sweetness. With one final caress, he coaxed her leg backward and helped her lower it. She removed her hands regretfully from his derrière.

Then, although it pained him, he placed some distance between their bodies, taking her hands in both of his.

“I shouldn’t have cornered you like that. Or let things go so far.” He shook his head, biting back a curse. “Did I scare you?”

“I didn’t say no, Gabriel.” Her soft voice echoed in the great hall. “And I’m not scared.”

“You were frightened of me before. Remember that night when you asked me about one of my photographs…the aggressive one…” Gabriel’s lips pressed together tightly.

“I know you better now.”

“Julianne, I would never take anything from you or try to manipulate you into something you don’t want. Please believe me.”

“I do, Gabriel.” She pulled on one of his hands and coaxed him to spread it across her heart, palm flat to her chest, between her br**sts. “Feel my heartbeat.”

He frowned. “Too fast. Like a hummingbird’s wings.”

“This is what happens every time I’m near you. When you touch me.

I’m the one who’s overcome by you, Gabriel. Don’t you know that?”

He brushed his thumb against her naked flesh and gently transferred his attention to her swollen lower lip.

“I did this to you. Does it hurt?” he whispered.

“It only aches in your absence.”

He pressed his lips to hers reverently. “You’re killing me.”

She tossed her hair back and grinned. “But it will be a sweet, sweet death.”

He laughed and pulled her into a hug. “Let’s continue our tour before my contact decides to evict us for indecency. I’ll have to speak to him about getting the videotapes from the security cameras.”

Videotapes? Security cameras? Scheisse, thought Julianne.

Hmmmmmm. On the other hand…

By the time they reached Gabriel’s apartment, they were laughing and giddy. Their desperation for one another had cooled somewhat, but was still warm and affectionate. Julia was blissfully happy. And they had the whole night together…

Gabriel kissed her in the kitchen, insisting that she allow him to do everything.

“But I want to help.”

“We’ll cook together tomorrow night.”

She thought about this for a moment. “I don’t know how you’d feel about it, but I have Grace’s chicken Kiev recipe. We could make it together.”

She looked up at him uncertainly.

“Scott used to call it squirt chicken.”  He smiled sadly and kissed her again. “I haven’t had it in years. I’d be glad for you to teach me.”

That’s likely the only thing I’ll ever be able to teach you, Gabriel. You are a love god, amongst other things.  She brushed his lips with hers and made herself comfortable on the bar stool.

“Tonight’s dinner is brought to you by Scaramouche. Since Mohammed cannot come to the mountain, the mountain must come to Mohammed.”

“Really?”

“Everything is here, including a very fine Grand Marnier chocolate cake from Patisserie La Cigogne. And I have an extraordinary bottle of wine that I’ve been saving, which I will allow to breathe before we get started.”

He winked at her. “I even have candles for the cake.”

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Gabriel. It was — the nicest birthday I’ve ever had.”

“It’s not over yet,” he rasped slightly, his bright blue eyes sparkling. “I haven’t given you your present.”

Julia blushed deeply and looked down at her hands, wondering if he had meant to sound so sensual. I wonder what “present” he wants to give me. I know what present I would like. It’s official. I am now fantasizing about making love with Gabriel…

Julia’s erotic imaginings were interrupted by the ringing of her cell phone. She walked to her purse and checked it reluctantly.

“I don’t recognize the number,” she mused. “But it’s a Philadelphia area code.”

She answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello, Jules.”

Julia inhaled slowly, making a strained vacuuming sound with her lungs. All the color disappeared from her cheeks, and immediately, Gabriel walked over to her, knowing that something was very, very wrong.

“How did you get this number?” she managed before her legs grew rubbery. She stumbled to a chair and sank down.

“That’s not a very warm welcome, Julia. You’ll have to do better than that.”

She razored her lower lip with her teeth, not knowing how to respond.

Her caller sighed dramatically. “Your father gave me your number. I always enjoy talking to him. He’s very forthcoming, which is more than I can say for you. You’ve been a spoiled little brat.”

She closed her eyes and began to breathe in and out very fast. Gabriel took her hand to try to lift her to her feet, but she wouldn’t move. “What do you want?”

“I’ll overlook your bitchiness because I haven’t spoken with you in a while. But don’t push your luck.” He lowered his voice to a near whisper.

“I called you because I wanted to see how you were doing in Toronto. Are you still living on Madison Avenue?”