Gabriel's Inferno
Page 69

She knew the answer even before she approached him. When he didn’t turn around, she cleared her throat. “Professor Emerson, I presume.”
He spun around quickly, and as soon as he saw her, he gasped. “Hello, gorgeous.” He pressed his lips to hers a little too enthusiastically and peeled her out of her coat.
“Turn around,” he said thickly.
Julia slowly spun in a circle.
“You’re stunning.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her more forcefully, tugging her lip in between his and gently exploring her mouth.
She pulled back, embarrassed. “Gabriel.”
He gave her a heated look. “We’ll be doing more of that this evening.
We have the entire museum to ourselves. But first…” He reached over to pick up a clear box that had been sitting on a low table nearby. Inside the box was a large, white orchid.
“For me?”
He smirked. “I’m making up for having missed your prom. May I?”
She beamed up at him.
Gabriel removed the flower and tied it to her wrist a little too com-petently, winding the white satin ribbon around her in an elaborate weave.
“It’s lovely, Gabriel. Thank you.” She kissed him sweetly.
“Come.”
She came willingly, but he immediately realized his mistake and stopped. “I mean, if you please.”
She smiled and threaded their fingers together.
They walked over to a large open space where a small, impromptu bar had been set up. Gabriel guided her with his hand at the small of her back.
“How did you arrange this?” she whispered.
“I was one of the donors for the Florentine exhibit. I asked for a private viewing — they gladly complied.” He gave her a half-smile that almost caused her to melt into a puddle on the floor just like in the film Amélie.
The bartender greeted them warmly. “Miss?” he prompted.
“Do you know how to make a Flirtini?”
“Of course, Miss. Coming right up.”
Gabriel’s eyebrows went up, and he leaned over to whisper in her ear,
“That’s an interesting name for a drink. A preview of coming attractions?”
She laughed. “Raspberry vodka, cranberry juice and pineapple. I’ve never had one before, but I read about it online, and it sounded yummy.”
He chuckled, shaking his head.
“Sir?” asked the bartender, handing Julia her drink, garnished with a small slice of pineapple.
“Tonic water with lime, please.”
She was surprised. “You aren’t drinking?”
“There’s a special bottle of wine at my place. I’m waiting for that.” He smiled at her.
Julia waited until Gabriel received his drink so they could toast one another.
“You can bring your — what was it — Flirtini with you. We’re the only guests here.”
“I could nurse one of these all night. They’re pretty strong.”
“We have all the time in the world, Julianne. The entire evening revolves around you…your wants, your desires, your needs.” He winked at her and led her to an elevator. “The exhibit is on the lower level.”
When they entered the elevator, Gabriel turned to her. “Did I tell you how much I missed you this week? The days and nights seemed to last forever.”
“I missed you too,” she said, shyly.
“You look lovely.” He gazed down appraisingly at her high heels. “You are a vision.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s going to take all of my self-control not to spirit you away to the Victorian furniture exhibit so I can make love to you on one of the four poster beds.”
Julia’s eyebrows shot up, and giggling slightly, she wondered what kind of reaction that display would elicit.
He breathed a sigh of relief that his unguarded remark hadn’t caused her to retreat from him. He would have to be more careful.
He’d been actively involved not only in the financing of the exhibit of many of Florence’s treasures, but also in their selection. As they wandered through the several rooms, he offered a few brief words on some of the more impressive items. But mostly they just strolled hand in hand, like a loving couple on a walk, pausing from time to time to embrace or kiss when the mood struck. Which it did, often.
Julia finished her cocktail a bit ahead of schedule, and Gabriel obligingly found a place to leave their glasses. He was happy to have their hands free, finally. She was a Siren for him, an irresistible voice. He stroked her neck, her cheek, her collarbone. He pressed his lips to her hands, her lips, her throat. She was undoing him little by little, and when she smiled or laughed he thought he would catch fire.
They spent quite some time admiring Fra Filippo Lippi’s painting Madonna with the Child and Two Angels, for it was a piece they both admired.
Gabriel stood behind her, his arms wrapped snugly around her waist.
“Do you like it?” he whispered in her ear, resting his chin on her shoulder.
“Very much. I’ve always loved the serenity on the Virgin’s face.”
“Me too,” said Gabriel, lightly drawing his lips from just under her jaw back to below her earlobe, nuzzling her softly. “Your serenity is very alluring.”
Julia’s eyes rolled back into her head. “Mmmmmmmm,”  she moaned aloud.
He chuckled and repeated his movements, allowing the tip of his tongue to move across the surface of her skin. Only a whisper, only a promise, so light she thought it had to be his lips.
“Does that please you?”
She answered him by reaching up to grasp his hair. It was all the encouragement he needed. He turned her around and pressed her to him, moving his arms to the small of her back.
“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 breasts. “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.”