“Dinner will arrive in about an hour. I’m sorry it’s going to take so long.” Gabriel licked his lips as he took in the sight of Julia in her bathrobe.
In contrast, he’d changed into a white linen shirt that was mostly unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. He wore khaki pants with the hems rolled up, exposing his bare feet.
(Parenthetically, it should be noted that even his feet were attractive.)
“Would you like to take a walk with me on the beach?”
“I think I’d rather do something else.” She tugged him, smiling, toward the bed, and gave him a gentle push so he was seated on its edge.
He caught her by the belt of her robe. “I’d be content just to relax. It was a long trip.” His face showed that he was in earnest, which somewhat surprised her.
“I miss you.” Her voice dropped to a throaty whisper.
He pulled her so she was standing in between his knees and slid his hands to rest on her backside. “We could nap before dinner. There’s no rush.”
She rolled her eyes. “Gabriel, I want you to make love to me. If you’re saying no, just tell me.”
He gave her a very wide, very delighted grin. “I’d never say no to you, Miss Mitchell.”
“Good. Give me five minutes, Professor Emerson.”
He sank down on his back, his feet still on the floor. Julia’s newfound confidence was absolutely enticing. In a single sentence, she’d aroused him so much that he was already suffering.
It seemed like forever, but it was really only a few minutes later when Julia emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in his Christmas gift. The black satin fabric accentuated the pink and cream of her skin, while the corset itself made her breasts look fuller and her waist smaller. Gabriel couldn’t help but admire the exquisite hourglass that was Julia’s now transformed figure.
His eyes hungrily regarded the merest glimpse of black lace panties, paired with black-silk stockings that were held up by a garter belt. Finally and gloriously, a pair of black pumps decorated her feet.
Gabriel nearly had a heart attack when he gazed at the shoes alone.
“Bonsoir, Professeur. Vous allez bien?” Julia purred.
It took a moment for him to figure out why she’d made this linguistic choice, so taken as he was by her figure and her footwear.
Julia was wearing his beret.
When his eyes finally met hers, she watched him swallow hard. She pouted at him provocatively and removed her hat, tossing it at him. After he threw it aside, she walked slowly, very slowly, to the bed.
“I really like my Christmas present, Professor.”
Gabriel gulped, at a loss for words.
“Have you seen the back?” She pivoted her hips, watching him over her shoulder.
He reached out a finger to touch the laces that tied the corset, dragging his hand down to the panties that cut across her pert backside.
“Enough teasing, Miss Mitchell. Come here.” He pulled her to him, bringing their mouths together in a forceful kiss.
“I’m going to take my time unwrapping my gift—with the exception of the shoes. I hope for your sake they’re comfortable.”
After ten minutes of knocking on the door, the room service waiter had to take their dinner back to the kitchen and await further instructions.
The instructions never came.
* * *
Long after midnight, beautiful music hung in the air from Gabriel’s new playlist, including songs by Sarah McLachlan, Sting, and Matthew Barber. Julia was lying on her stomach amidst a tangle of linen sheets, drowsy and satisfied. Her back was exposed down to the two dimples that rested above the curve of her backside.
Gabriel had artfully placed part of the sheet over her bottom and retrieved his camera. He stood by the bed, snapping picture after picture until she yawned and stretched, like a sleepy cat.
“You’re exquisite,” he said, placing the camera to one side so he could sit by her.
She looked up with wide, happy eyes as he began running his long fingers down her spine, then gave a rueful smile. “When you love something, you don’t see its flaws.”
“That’s true, I suppose. But you’re beautiful.”
She shifted so she could see him better, hugging her arms around a pillow. “Love makes things beautiful.”
A familiar tightness spread across Gabriel’s lips. His hand stilled on her lower back, just over the dimples.
She read the unspoken question in his eyes. “Yes, Gabriel, you’re beautiful to me. The more I know you, the more I see who you really are and the more beautiful you become.”
He kissed her, the light, appreciative kiss of a teenage suitor, and ran his fingers through her long, brown hair. “Thank you. You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
He looked over at the door. “I think we missed our dinner because we were feasting on—ah—other things.”
“And what a feast it was, Professor. At least there’s a fruit basket.”
She sat up, wrapping the sheet around her torso, while he walked over to the large basket that was sitting on the coffee table. He found a Swiss army knife in the kitchenette, made an adjustment to the music, and brought a mango with him to bed.
“I needed to match the song to the fruit,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling. “Now lie back.”
She felt her heart rate begin to increase.
“You don’t need this.” Boldly, he pulled the sheet away. Now they were both naked.
“Who’s singing?”
“Bruce Cockburn.”
He began cutting the mango slowly, his eyes exploring Julia’s body.
She gave him a quizzical look. “Naked lunch?”
“More like a naked midnight snack.”
With deft fingers he cut a small slice of the fruit, juice dripping from his hands and onto her abdomen. She arched an eyebrow.
“Hmmm.” He peered at the juice with an impish expression. “I’ll have to take care of that.”
She opened her mouth as he leaned forward to feed her. “You have a feeding fetish,” she said, licking her lips and angling for more.
He bowed before her in obeisance, his tongue snaking out to capture the liquid from her stomach. “Pardon?” he asked.
Julia groaned incoherently.
“It isn’t a fetish so much as an act that gives me joy. I like to care for you, and there’s something sensual about sharing food with a lover.” He eschewed her lips to kiss her shoulder, the tip of his tongue tasting her skin. Withdrawing, he cut another slice of fruit. A few droplets fell like liquid sunshine on her left breast.
“Damn. Forgive my mess.”
He ran a sticky hand up and down her ribs, tantalizing one of his favorite erogenous zones, before placing his lips to her chest.
“You’re killing me,” she managed as his wet mouth found her nipple.
“I seem to recall saying that to you once. And you promised it would be a sweet death.”
Julia opened her mouth to indicate her willingness to accept another piece. “I should have said a sticky death.”
He placed a piece of mango on her tongue before stroking her lower lip with his thumb.
“I’ve thought of that. Don’t worry.”
Without warning, she moved so she was straddling his lap and placed her hands on either side of his face, pulling him toward her. They kissed passionately for a moment before she took the mango and knife from his hand and placed a piece temptingly in her mouth.
He gave her a heated look before he brought their lips together, tugging the piece of fruit away with his teeth.
“Mmmmm,” she hummed. “By the way, I don’t think I ever saw the security video from our date at the museum.”
She gently squeezed a piece of mango over his chest and began kissing and sucking across the droplet trail.
“Ah—ah —” Gabriel had trouble finding his words. “I’ve seen it. It’s pretty hot.”
“Really?” She sat back and languidly ate a piece of fruit in front of him, licking her fingers slowly.
“I’ll show it to you later.” He pulled her into a tight embrace, his hands sliding up and down her back. Then, when he couldn’t stand it any longer, he tossed everything aside so he could lift her into his arms.
“Where are we going?” she asked, slightly alarmed.
“To the beach.”
“But we’re naked.”
“Our beach is private.” He kissed the tip of her nose and carried her down to the water’s edge.
“Someone will see us,” she protested as he stepped into the sea.
“There’s only a little sliver of a moon. Anyone who came by would only see you in silhouette. And what a view.”
He kissed her long and good, adoring her face and neck with his lips as the gentle tide lapped against them. Then he placed her on her feet so he could press every inch of his body to hers.
“See how we fit together?” His voice was urgent. “We’re a perfect match.”
They cupped salt water in their hands, cleaning one another’s flesh. Julia couldn’t help but lean forward to kiss his tattoo, reveling in the way the taste of the sea mingled with the flavor of his skin.
He began kissing her neck and she could feel him smile against her. “Have you ever seen the film From Here to Eternity?”
“No.”
“Then I need to introduce you to it.” He took her hand and led her to the beach, where he lowered himself to the sand. “Please,” he beckoned, motioning that she should lie atop him.
“Here?” Her heart thumped wildly in her chest.
“Yes, here. I want to be inside you, but I don’t want the sand to scratch your skin.” Gabriel pulled her down, and his mouth sought hers eagerly as the waves gently lapped at their legs. When they cried out their pleasure, the pale moon smiled.
* * *
A tropical rainstorm moved through the area the following morning. While the raindrops tapped against the roof of the hut, the couple made love slowly in a bed covered with mosquito netting. They found their rhythm in the steady dance of the rain.
When they were both blissful, he suggested that they rinse the sweat and humidity from their skin in the large bathtub on the veranda. Reclining in vanilla-scented bubbles, Julia leaned against his chest as he wound his arms around her middle. When she was in his arms she could almost forget the troubles that waited for them in Toronto.
She felt safe with Gabriel. It was not that he was a powerful man, although his wealth gave him some measure of strength. It was the way he’d confronted her bullies—first, Christa, then Simon. And the fact that he’d excoriated her father for a lifetime of neglect.
The vulnerability of the lovers’ bed was well-known to Julia now. She knew nakedness and intimacy, desire and burning need, and deep, deep satisfaction. But she also knew that Gabriel loved her and wished to protect her. In his arms, she felt safe, for the first time in her life.
“Saturday mornings were my favorite when I was a child.” Gabriel interrupted her musings with a wistful voice.
Julia traced his lifeline with a single finger. “Why?”
“My mother was passed out. I could watch cartoons. This was before we lost our cable.” He gave her a half smile, and Julia tried not to cry, thinking of Gabriel as a sad little boy whose only happiness was a few hours of cartoons.
