by Mia Sheridan
He grabbed a towel, and when I swung my legs out of the tub and over the side, he blotted them dry.
I watched his face as he did so, and he looked so intense, so focused. I thought for sure he was going to ask me to stay the night with him or that he would make a move of some sort. And so when he leaned up and kissed me on the cheek and whispered, “Good night,” I froze and blinked.
Gabriel stood and walked stiffly out of the bathroom. I followed, whispering, “Good night, Gabriel,” as I passed him at his bedroom door. I hesitated a couple of seconds too long, giving him a chance to ask me to stay, and we both stared at each other for several beats before I turned my head and walked out. I heard him release a shaky breath behind me.
I returned to my room and took a cool shower and then got in bed, still feeling frustrated and confused. As I lay there in the quiet, I realized that I didn’t know what it was like to want like this. I’d never experienced it before. I’d never even known what wanting was, not really, and I was suddenly … amazed. And something warm and tender moved through me. Oh God. Gabriel had given this to me. And though it made me feel slightly crazed, it also made me feel powerful and alive.
I sat up in bed, a slow smile moving over my face as I gathered the sheet to my chest. Was he waiting for me to be ready? Was it another gift Gabriel was trying to give to me? The experience of knowing I wanted a man and offering myself to him, rather than only ever being taken? But wasn’t it the same for him? I groaned. Of course it would be just like Gabriel to have been ready for weeks and to be waiting for me to know I was ready, too.
I got out of bed, nervous and unsure, and yet filled with a yearning so strong I was consumed with it.
I opened the door softly and stepped into the hallway, looking at his closed door. My nerves were like a buzzing in my veins, and I almost turned back, but I gathered my courage and walked quickly to his door, turning the knob and stepping inside.
His room was dim, the only light on next to his bed. He was lying under a sheet, his chest naked, with a book in his hand. When he saw me, a worried frown came over his face. He sat up on one elbow. “Ellie? Are you okay?”
I nodded jerkily, my heart beating so loudly, it seemed to echo in my ears. “You’re reading—”
He laid the book aside. “No.” He shook his head. “I’ve read the same sentence fifteen times now.”
“Oh …” My voice came out in a croaky whisper, and I cleared my throat. Gabriel was so still, waiting. “I want you,” I said in a whispered rush of words. “And I thought maybe you might … want … too.” I swallowed, pressing my palms against the closed door at my back.
A look of such raw tenderness came over Gabriel’s expression that I stopped breathing for a second before my breath resumed in a quick rush of air. I wanted to drink that look in, to make it part of me forever. “I do,” he said. “I do want … too.” His small, crooked smile, filled with love and a glint of teasing, made my shoulders relax.
He threw the sheet back and got out of bed. He was wearing boxers, and my heartbeat quickened when I saw the outline of his arousal through the thin material. I swallowed again, his beauty affecting me twice as much this time as it had the first time I saw him half-naked. This time … oh, this time, I was going to touch him and so much more.
If we see each other naked again, it won’t be a job, or an accident. It will be because we both want it, and because it means something.
Yes.
Oh yes.
He pressed me gently against the door with his hips and brought his hands to my face, kissing me as I melted into him, my body softening everywhere to mold to his hardness.
“We fit so perfectly, don’t we?” he murmured, and a rush of arousal raced through my blood at his words.
He kissed down my neck, feathering his lips over my skin, and I felt something in him that I hadn’t felt before: He was holding nothing back this time. There was no reservation in his touch, no doubt in his kiss. I had offered myself to him, and he meant to give all of himself as well.
He led me to the bed and came over me as I lay back. “You might have to show me how to do this. I’ve never done it before,” he whispered, a small smile on his lips and a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.
I brought a hand to his cheek. “I don’t think I’ve done this before, either. Not like this. Let’s just figure it out as we go.”
He gazed at me so seriously before he kissed me again.
We undressed each other slowly in the soft glow of the reading lamp. I didn’t feel a second of shame as his gaze moved over my naked body, and for a moment the lack of discomfort confused me. But then realization dawned: this was what it should feel like to be a woman. I’d never had any idea at all.
We touched and kissed with loving hands and open hearts, and I’d been right to think I’d never experienced anything like this before. It was tender and generous, and it was everything. Everything I’d never known.
I wanted to touch every part of him, to know his body the way I’d come to know his heart. To willingly explore a man for the first time, to keep my eyes wide open and my mind focused on the moment because there was nowhere else I’d rather be. I wanted to actually feel pleasure, to know the thrill of giving over complete trust to the person I was with.
I started at his feet, and he laughed softly as I ran my hands over his toes and up his calves. I smiled, too, not just because he had, but because I’d never known laughter and joy could be part of sex. Everything was new and wondrous, and I felt a wild sort of reverence in the discovery of my own passion. I could feel this, too. I’d never known. Oh, I’d never known.
Gabriel’s laughter turned into a moan as I continued up his thighs, kneading the muscles there, watching his face so I knew he was okay with my every touch, seeing him swell and harden and feeling the answering rush of wetness between my thighs.
I moved upward, running my hands over the warm hardness of his chest, across his broad shoulders, tracing a finger over the ridges of his stomach until he sucked in a breath and brought his lips to mine.
Gabriel turned me over and moved his hands over my skin as if I were a treasure he had just discovered—those beautiful artist’s hands that held within them the power to bring forth beauty from within. And that’s what I felt: beautiful, adored, loved.
He kissed and touched every part of me, and I had the faraway sense that he was mending me and I was mending him. We explored for what felt like hours, until I was slick and desperate, and the half-pained look on his face told me he felt the same.
When he pushed into my body, we both gasped, our eyes meeting in the dim light of the room, that same connection I’d first been so frightened of still there but now intensified a thousandfold.
I tried to focus only on his face, on the beautiful concentration in his expression, the way his eyes fell shut and his eyelashes formed dark crescents on his cheeks, the way his lips parted in pleasure. I tried to watch him as he rocked slowly at first, finding a rhythm and then increasing the pace, but my own swelling pleasure was so powerful, I was lost as it washed over me and through me, causing me to cry out Gabriel’s name again and again. I fisted the sheets and pressed my head back into the pillow.
“Yes, Eloise,” I heard him say. “Yes.” Right before he groaned and then shuddered, collapsing on top of me, his breath shallow against my neck, a gentle throbbing where we were still connected.
Lying there afterward in his arms, his fingers running lazily down my arm, I wanted to laugh with joy. I’d been right: Every part of his body held a place that felt as if it had been made just for mine.
Later as I stared at the ceiling, listening to Gabriel’s breathing grow deep and slow, I realized he had given me just what he said he would. His breath against my neck was a calming wind, his smile the sunshine, his touch was a thousand rainbows dancing on my skin, and I loved him so much I thought my heart would burst.
CHAPTER TWENTY
I will be a blanket of love warming you.
Lady Eloise of the Daffodil Fields
GABRIEL
I opened my eyes slowly, stretching my body as the night before came back to me in a sudden wave of sleepy elation; the way Ellie had come to me, the way my heart had soared to see her standing at my door, the words she’d spoken, the words I’d been waiting to hear. I want you.
Ellie was sitting on the side of the bed, staring at the light of dawn just peeking beneath the blinds. My eyes roamed the feminine lines of her smooth back, the way her waist dipped inward and flared out to the roundness of her hips, and I felt a soft throbbing again, despite having spent most of the night making love.
“Don’t go,” I said, my voice thick with sleep.
She turned, her eyes tender and vulnerable, her lips swollen with all the ways we’d used our mouths the night before. She looked soft; God, she looked so soft. And I’d been right—she was most beautiful in the first light of morning, and especially so after a night of being loved.
“The sun’s starting to rise,” she said quietly, bringing her hair back over her shoulder. “I don’t want you to miss it just because I’m here.”
I smiled. “Open the blinds. We can watch it from this bed as well as we can watch it from the patio.”
She glanced at the window and back at me and then stood, opening the shades to the view of the sunrise just peeking above the forest behind my house. The room was washed in a pale golden glow, and her naked skin seemed iridescent. She returned to me and slipped under the sheets and smiled as she opened her thighs beneath me, creating a perfect cradle for my hips. And she accepted me into her body again as the sunrise welcomed us to a brand-new day.
And I finally knew what it was like to love a woman: body, heart, and soul.
* * *
That weekend was spent exploring each other’s bodies and learning everything that brought pleasure to the other. I felt insatiable for her, both satisfied and yet constantly hungry. On Saturday, we didn’t leave the bed much except to eat and bathe, but on Sunday, we took a walk so Ellie could exercise her leg and feel the freedom and pleasure of walking without crutches slowing her down. She had a slight limp, but the doctor had said that would lessen in time.
We held hands as we strolled under a different covered bridge than the one we’d gone to the weekend before, and I pulled her to me where I leaned against the ancient rough wood and kissed her. She laughed and kissed me back, and it felt as if the whole world had stopped and it was only us within it.
I was shaken from my reverie when we pulled up in my driveway and saw a car I didn’t recognize parked there. We got out and two men in suits stepped out of the car, walking toward us. “Gabriel Dalton?” the blond man in the navy suit asked, extending his hand.
I shook it, nodding. “Yes.”
“I’m Detective Cotterill.”
I was slightly confused, but figured it was in reference to Ellie’s case, so when she came up next to me, I introduced her, but he only gave her a fleeting glance. “I was hoping I could ask you a few questions.”
The other man had walked around the car and introduced himself as Detective Barbosa, and we shook his hand as well before I answered Detective Cotterill. “Of course. Uh, come on in.”
I led them to my front door and inside, where I gestured to the living room area. “Can I get you something to drink?”
They both declined and we sat down. I glanced at Ellie, and she looked slightly nervous. “I’m assuming this is about Ellie’s case?”
Detective Cotterill shook his head. “No. This is about a boy who was abducted in town.”
“Wyatt Geller?”
Detective Cotterill looked up from his notepad. “Do you know him?”
“I know of him. I’ve been following the case closely.”
He looked at me strangely. “I see. Any particular reason for that?”
I frowned, looking back and forth between him and Detective Barbosa, who had leaned back on the couch with one arm resting on the back and an ankle on his knee. “If you don’t know, I was abducted myself when I was—”
“Yes, we’re aware of that.”
What was going on here? “Okay, well, then you can understand why I’d be interested in what happened to Wyatt Geller.”
Neither detective answered that, instead turning to Ellie. “You’re Eloise Cates?”
“Yes,” she murmured, scooting closer to me. I put my hand on her knee protectively, and Detective Cotterill looked at it there for a moment before turning his gaze back to my face. “And you work at the Platinum Pearl, er, gentleman’s club?” He’d described it in polite terms though he looked at her distastefully, conveying exactly what he thought about her job. Judgmental bastard. Anger arced down my spine.
“I used to. I’m no longer employed there,” Ellie answered.
“Is that where you met Mr. Dalton?”
“Yes.”
“How often do you patronize the Platinum Pearl, Mr. Dalton?”
“I don’t anymore.”
“Hmm,” he hummed shortly. “We spoke to the manager there.” He flipped a page on his notepad. “Rodney Toller. He said you became pretty obsessed with Ms. Cates and made several of the other girls uncomfortable, almost had to be escorted out a couple of times.”
Ellie shook her head. “No, that’s not true.”
“That’s an inaccurate version of what happened. I’m sorry, Detective, what is this about?”
“The parallels in your case and the Wyatt Geller case are very similar. We’re simply trying to figure out why. Do you know why that would be, Mr. Dalton?”
“In what way are our cases similar?”
“We’re not able to share that information at this time. We were wondering if you might already be aware.”
I paused. “If you’re implying I know something about that little boy’s disappearance that I haven’t told the police—”
“We never said that, Mr. Dalton. After all, your abductor is dead. You stabbed him, correct?” By the look on his face, he knew very well I had. Condescending asshole. Next to him, Detective Barbosa picked at his teeth.
My heart had started beating rapidly, and I worked not to show that this was affecting me. I was confused and upset that I was being questioned in this case as if I were a suspect. “Do I need a lawyer?”
“Why would you think you need a lawyer?”
I let out a pent-up breath. “Listen, Detectives, I don’t know a thing about the Wyatt Geller case that I haven’t read in the news. And I can’t speculate on why there might be parallels in our cases if you won’t tell me what the similarities are.”
Detective Cotterill closed his notepad and put it in the pocket on the inside of his suit coat, along with the pen he’d been holding. “We appreciate your time, Mr. Dalton, Ms. Cates,” he said, standing.
That was it? I stood, too, rubbing my hands down my hips. Detective Cotterill followed my movement and then gave me a tight smile. “You think of anything we should know, you give us a call.” Detective Barbosa pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it to me.
I walked the detectives to the door and said a terse goodbye, shutting it behind them.
“What was that about?” Ellie asked, walking over to where I remained standing by the door.
“I have no idea.” I looked at her and gave her an encouraging smile. “Just covering their bases, I guess.” Still, a chill moved through my blood at the news that our cases were similar. How? And why? And what was that little boy enduring right this minute? God, I didn’t want to think about it. But I couldn’t help it.
I’d been there.
I already knew.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
We’re a team. If you hurt, I hurt.
Racer, the Knight of Sparrows
ELLIE
The weeks passed with no further communication from the police. I had to figure they’d just been doing their jobs by questioning Gabriel, although the way they’d done it, and the fact that they’d brough
t the Platinum Pearl into it, had shocked and shamed me.
They had looked at Gabriel as if he were some pervert when nothing could be further from the truth. Even I had recognized that he didn’t belong in the club the very second I saw him there.
The detectives had twisted things in a way that made Gabriel unrecognizable, and it filled me with anger and a burning need to defend him. And yet, I had no way to do that.
He was everything to me. If I could have crawled under Gabriel’s skin and lived there, I would have done it happily. I felt most complete when he was buried inside me, his eyes closed and his lips parted in pleasure. No other woman had ever put that look on his face. It was mine and mine alone. The sun rose and set in his eyes, and I was so deeply in love with him that I wanted nothing but to spend every waking second in his arms. It was only there I felt completely at peace.
Gabriel had all the things that brought him peace and joy. His work, his sunrise, his wind, and the raindrops on his window. But I didn’t need any of that. To me he was all of those things—I only needed him and nothing more.
Gabriel asked me to stay with him at his house, and so I did. I guessed I’d have to go back to my own apartment at some point, but our relationship was so new and so wonderful that I didn’t want to spend a second apart from him. Luckily for me, I didn’t have to since we worked together, too.
I brought the phone headset with me as much as possible and answered calls in his studio, where I watched him work. If the noise and distraction disturbed his focus, he never said so. He was working on another piece of architectural carving for a library in Germany, a foliate band, he called it, that would go on the front of the structure. It was gorgeous with intricate vines, flowers, and butterflies. If I squinted, I swore those butterflies would start fluttering their wings and come to life. That’s how real they looked.
At times I was in the office with Dominic, and although I avoided him as much as I could, his demeanor was still cold. Mostly he ignored me, but at times I felt so raw and defenseless. It seemed that my love for Gabriel had somehow revealed the most tender parts of me, and I felt exposed, bared in a way I hadn’t anticipated. Or perhaps I had. Perhaps that’s the reason I’d resisted it so fervently. But now … now I was like the works of art Gabriel created: Every sharp edge had been chipped away so that my insides, the parts that made me vulnerable and sensitive, were on the outside, whereas before they’d been encased in a hard coating of stone. It was an irony that I’d stripped for a living and yet I’d never felt more naked than I did now in a full set of clothes. I felt as if one sharp look would make me bleed.