Open for me.
Julia wasn’t breathing. How could she when the sensation was so intense? The taste of peppermint, the scent of Aramis, the way his breath consumed her. When she didn’t respond to his plea, Gabriel’s tongue slowly emerged, hesitantly exploring her lower lip, before curving over it and coaxing it backward dexterously into his mouth. Julia inhaled sharply at the strange but intimate sensation.
He pulled her lip between his, tugging and teasing. It was all so new, yet strangely familiar. Lips, teeth, the gentle play of tongue. Passion remained, but anger gave way to a bracing electricity that burned and crackled around them, as Julia answered his invitation and opened to him.
Her jaw was tense. He could feel it. Gabriel slipped his left hand from her cheekbone to the curve of her jaw and began stroking, willing her to loosen. As she relaxed under his fingers, he grew bolder. The tip of his tongue rolled over her lower lip as he tugged on it with his mouth, and slowly his tongue touched hers. There were timid introductions as their tongues met first as friends, shy and soft, then as lovers, sensual and erotic, as the heat exploded in their mouths and the dance of the two became a tango of one.
It was better than Gabriel imagined — so much better than in his dreams or imagination. She was real. Beatrice was real. As he pressed his lips to hers and explored her mouth, he could say in those moments that she was his, body and soul. If only for those moments.
So sweet, thought Julia. So warm.
She tugged Gabriel closer, her tentative hands tangling in his hair, pulling him until she was sandwiched tightly between him and the door, her petite frame pressed up against his tall, muscular one. Gabriel moved his right hand to cup the back of her head, protecting it with his knuckles while he groaned loudly against her mouth.
He groaned because of me.
The groan was loud, feral, and erotic. Julia would remember that sound and the way it vibrated against her lips, echoing into her mouth, for the rest of her life. She felt the blood course through her, hot and thick, as her skin bloomed under his touch. She had never wanted anything more than to feel his arms around her and his lips against hers.
There was no Paul. No Christa. No university. Just them.
Gabriel’s lips enveloped her, owned her. A fire ignited inside as their bodies moved together, soft curves against unyielding steel. Julia inhaled frantically, but it wasn’t enough. Her head grew light.
Gabriel swore he could feel her heartbeat through his shirt they were so tightly bound together. His left hand trailed under the hem of her blouse to inch toward the bare skin of her lower back. He moaned again as his fingers spread across that valley, claiming it. He didn’t need to see it to know that it was beautiful and precious.
Until…Julia began to gasp, her breathing labored and uneven. Gabriel did not want to stop. He wanted to continue, to carry her to his desk and lay her back so they could finish what they started. He wanted to explore every inch of her and gaze deeply into her dark eyes as her body gave up its secrets. But prudence took hold, and he slowed his movements even as his body ached at the mere thought of separation.
He held her tightly, still protecting her head, and pressed three chaste kisses against her open mouth. He brushed his lips, angel-soft, all the way down her neck to where it met her shoulder. One more kiss under the ear, with a flick of his tongue, more of a promise than a farewell, and Gabriel stopped.
He slid his hands down her arms and brought them to rest on her hips. He traced intricate patterns with his thumbs, willing her to open her eyes. He swore he could hear their heartbeats, echoing a frantic but almost synchronous rhythm in the silence of his office. She did this to him. She bewitched him, blood and flesh. He gazed down at her in wonder and brushed his lips once more against her parted mouth. She did not respond.
Gabriel peered at her closely, slightly panicked.
“Julia? Darling? Are you all right?”
His heart halted as she collapsed in his arms.
She hadn’t fainted. Not really. She’d just been overcome by sensation and sense and lack of proper food. But she knew that he was holding her tightly in his arms. And she knew that he was whispering kindly in her ear.
Gabriel stroked her face with his fingertips. When this elicited no response, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “Beatrice?”
Julia’s eyes popped open. “Why are you calling me that?”
“Because that’s your name,” he murmured, stroking her hair now. “Are you all right?”
She breathed in and out quite deeply. “I think so.”
He kissed her forehead again.
Julia suddenly remembered Gabriel’s fury and his strangely glowing blue eyes. “This is wrong. You’re my professor. I’m in so much trouble.”
She tried to wrest herself from his arms, but he would not let her go. She leaned against the door.
“What have I done?” She lifted a trembling hand to her forehead.
Gabriel frowned darkly and released her. “You disappoint me, Julianne. I’m not one to kiss and tell. I’m going to protect you, I promise.” He picked up her knapsack and put it over his shoulder, grabbing his briefcase in one hand and wrapping his other arm around her waist, drawing her to him. “Come with me.”
“Paul is waiting.”
“Fuck Paul.”
Julia’s eyelids fluttered.
“You’re nothing more than a pet to him.”
“I’m not a pet — I’m his friend. He’s my only friend in Toronto.”
“I’d like to be your friend,” Gabriel said, gazing down at her. “And I’m going to keep my little friend very close to make sure she doesn’t run away again.”
“This is — complicated. And dangerous.” Julia willed herself to forget the feeling of his lips on hers and to focus on their insurmountable problems.
But it was impossible, especially since the memory of the sounds he made while kissing her still echoed in her ears.
Groan.
“You didn’t seem to think that it was complicated and dangerous when you pranced around my apartment in my underwear. You didn’t think it was complicated when you left a breakfast tray in my refrigerator with something that could only be described as a love letter. Why is everything more complicated now that I’ve kissed you?”
“Because we’ve been — outed.”
Gabriel’s expression hardened. “No, we haven’t. Apart from the e-mail, the only public evidence is an argument, which is open to interpretation.