by J. K. Coi
Amelia nodded, and he felt some of the tension in his temples smoothing out.
“Okay then, you two, one room. Never let it be said that Samuel Douglas is a prude.” He smiled. “Gabe, it’s your regular room. You already know where everything is, so I’ll leave it to you to get Amelia whatever she needs.”
“Where is Lila, Sam?”
He sighed. “Her parents’ place. She wants to leave Tony with them for a few days so it’ll be easier to deal with some of David’s estate matters. She stayed the night with them yesterday to make sure Tony settled in okay, and she’s going to come back home before dinner tonight.”
Gabriel thanked Sam, ushering Amelia through the bedroom door and closing it behind them. He leaned his back against it. He was edgy, tense, worried. It was probably best that Lila wasn’t here now anyway. There was too much dark energy around him and he would only end up lashing out at someone, the last thing he wanted to do.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to hush the deprecating voice that had been mumbling in his head ever since walking through the front door—reminding him about guilt and blame. Reminding him he was trespassing in the home of a man who had trusted him, loved him…who had died because of him. Gabriel could almost hear David’s voice promising that he was going to have to pay for that sooner rather than later.
Lila had decorated this room just for him when she and David bought the place two years ago, so that he would always feel welcome and never forget he was a part of their family. Gabriel hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he’d been touched by the gesture, especially last year after everything had gone to shit.
After putting Phantasm together, Gabriel had been so deep into band life, he might never have resurfaced, but Leanne’s overdose made him see how far he’d fallen, how depraved he’d become. He’d been grateful for his friends as he started down the path toward getting himself cleaned up. They should have deserted him, but they hadn’t. David and Lila had been especially supportive.
Pulling off his jacket, he draped it over the high-back chair before sitting down to tug off his boots.
“Do you mind if I shower?” Amelia asked.
Again? He shrugged. “You don’t have to ask my permission—but didn’t you shower at the hotel last night, and this morning too?”
“Well, yes. You’re right. I just…” Amelia’s gaze shifted to the bathroom door and back again as if he’d catch her doing something naughty. “I very much enjoy the shower,” she admitted in a low voice. “The heat, the water. The smell of the pretty, frothy soap…It’s all very decadent and relaxing. I’ve never felt anything like it before.”
Holy shit. “Jesus, angel face. When you finally decide to acknowledge your desires, you don’t hold anything back do you?” Gabriel groaned and got to his feet. “You’re killing me.”
Standing before her, he curled a lock of her long hair around his finger. He resisted the urge to pull on it, make her step forward and lean into him, but only because she tilted her head back and looked into his eyes. He was that much closer to kissing her.
“What do you mean?” she asked, frowning up at him. “Isn’t that what you wanted from me?”
“Oh, yes. I want a lot of things from you—things I shouldn’t want—and impulse control has never really been my thing.” He dropped the curl and slid into the irresistible silkiness of her hair, fingers curving around the back of her neck. “But after the devastating images you just put in my head, I want even more.”
“What? What do you want?”
“Right now? What I want most in this world is to join you in that shower.”
Amelia hesitated. This last day alone, she’d broken too many rules that had once been sacred, crossed too many boundaries that were never supposed to have been breached by one such as her.
As much as she liked the things Gabriel could make her feel and wanted to explore just how deep they might go—it was still wrong. Especially now.
After the stunt Cassiel had pulled on them, her job had become considerably more complicated. She was still desperately trying to think of a way to reverse what had been set in motion, to avoid what she knew would have to be done. But her responsibilities were clear—she had made her promise to Michael long ago.
And yet she had also made promises to Gabriel. Although it shouldn’t have mattered, she hated that she was going to be forced to betray his trust.
Because betray him she would. Time had grown short now. While she continued to hesitate, her choices spun out of reach. Sooner or later she would be left with none. The dark angel grew stronger moment by moment, and Gabriel couldn’t possibly hold out against the pull of all that power for very long.
He was only human after all.
Shaking her head, Amelia took a step away from him. She wouldn’t compound the cruelty of her future violence against Gabriel by using him now as a means of satisfying her curiosity and desires. The thought of standing naked with him under the water’s hot spray seemed like the most perfect idea that had ever been proposed…and she had to resist.
Didn’t she? “I don’t think—”
“Oh yes, you do. You think too damn much.” His hands circled her waist, making her shiver as he guided her through the bathroom door. “Which is only part of your problem.”
She opened her mouth to object, but the words stopped in her throat when the light in his eyes deepened. Maybe he was right. Couldn’t she have one thing for herself? One honest, heartfelt memory?
“Is that right?” She let the smile lift her lips. “Then pray tell me, what is the rest of my problem?”
Gabriel traced his finger along the edge of the deeply cowled neck of her pullover. She shivered as his touch grazed the swell of her breast, dipping just barely into the exaggerated cleavage the new bra had given her before continuing across her other breast and following the line of soft cotton back up to her shoulder.
“Your problem—” his voice had dropped to a deep rumble she felt to her toes, “—is that you’re always wearing too many clothes.”
Amelia closed her eyes, just to let herself feel. If she was going to do this, she wanted to experience everything, hold nothing back. She wanted to absorb Gabriel’s bold, vibrant scent into her body. She wanted to draw out every one of his touches and have his hoarsely whispered words imprinted on her soul. Maybe it would keep out the darkness that was to come, hold the emptiness of her future at bay.
A soft touch to her forehead. His lips.
Gabriel kissed both her closed eyelids, the tip of her nose and each of her cheeks. She smiled and stepped closer, lifting her arms. Then she paused, unsure what to do with her hands. She opened her eyes and looked into his face.
“Go ahead and touch me,” he encouraged her.
“How?” She didn’t know what humans liked, how he would want to be touched.
“However you want to. What you like, I’ll like. I promise you.” He reached for a long length of her hair, pulling it between his fingers before he pushed it back behind her ear. He’d done that before. He liked to touch her hair.
Curious, Amelia reciprocated. She pushed her fingers through the softness at his temple, feeling its silky texture as it cascaded over her hand. From what she’d seen, Gabriel kept his hair longer than most men. It was beautiful. Dark as chocolate, but when the sun hit it, the lighter—almost golden—tones, came alive. He had it cut in a choppy style that fell over his eyes. She didn’t know why he’d done that because he seemed to be constantly sweeping it back from his face, especially when he was frustrated or impatient—which had been quite often since she’d come into his life.
“I like your hair,” she murmured, running her fingers behind his ear as he had done to her. “I like the way it feels, and the fresh smell of your shampoo. I like the way it looks soft and wispy after you’ve washed it, before it dries completely.” Tilting her head, she shifted her gaze. “I like how it frames your strong face that’s never too serious-looking for too long.”
Gabriel grinne
d. “Are you calling me a goofball?”
“No, but you have a positive way of looking at things that I…admire.”
“Positive? How so?” He frowned. It was obvious he didn’t agree with her, and Amelia wondered why. How was she wrong?
“You have more than enough to be serious about, and every reason to bemoan your circumstances, but you’ve never really complained.” She traced the line of his brow.
Gabriel snorted, grabbing her fingers and halting her exploring touch. “My best friend is dead and you’ve laid some pretty heavy shit on my head in the last few days. I’ve been complaining up and down and all over the place.”
“No, you haven’t,” she insisted. “I mean, yes, you’ve shown grief and anger over the loss of your friend, but never for yourself—always on behalf of his family. Instead of falling into despondency, you assumed all of the blame for his death and a determination to bring those responsible to justice.” She pulled her fingers from his grasp when he opened his mouth and would have rejected her words, pressing them to his lips. “Shh. I’m not finished—”
“I don’t want to talk about this, Amelia,” he snapped.
Understanding dawned as Gabriel’s jaw clenched and his mouth drew tight beneath her touch. He wanted to pull away from her now, she could sense it. He was unable to let himself lean on her for any reason.
Gabriel would never presume to seek solace from his friends or anyone else. Partly because he had always been the strong one, the one in charge, the person others leaned on. And partly because he was afraid that if those tables turned and he should need someone—nobody would be there.
“All right, no talking.” She ached for him, wished things could be different, but he was right. In the end, Gabriel would be alone. Not even Amelia would be there for him. “I just happened to be in the middle of something more interesting anyway.”
The shadow lifted from his expression and he smiled into her eyes. “Don’t let me stop you…”
She touched her fingers to his lips again and he kissed them. Amelia liked the little shock of pleasure at the connection. “I like your mouth too,” she whispered, taking a step closer. “I like the way your mouth curls up on one side when you’re teasing me.”
“Is that all?”
“No.” She put her hand to Gabriel’s shoulder and lifted her face upward. “I also like how it feels when you kiss me.”
“Oh yeah? How does my kiss make you feel, Amelia?” He leaned down to her, bringing his mouth close. So close she could feel his soft breath caressing her cheek.
She waited, but he didn’t kiss her. “Tingly.”
He paused, those lips of his curving just as she knew they would. “Is that all?”
She shook her head. “No. You make me feel warm and desperate. You make me want things I shouldn’t and do things I shouldn’t. When I’m with you, I feel…alive.”
“Almost human?”
Leaning up to meet his kiss, Amelia was glad not to have to answer that. It wouldn’t do either of them any good for her to reveal just how deep her feelings went, how conflicted she was. To expose just how much she ached to be human if it meant he would be safe and she could stay here with him.
Gabriel’s mouth opened over hers, finally kissing her.
What she’d told him wasn’t exactly true. Amelia didn’t feel warm and tingly. No, Gabriel made her feel hot.
He gripped her waist and pulled her into his solid body. His lips teased and nipped, urging her to part for him. She groaned and his tongue slipped into her mouth, sliding against hers in an erotic, intimate dance. Her hand curled around the back of his neck and she twined her fingers in his hair tightly.
Slipping his hand beneath her sweater, he rubbed up and down her spine. Her hips swayed forward, her whole body arching into him. She wanted to get as close as she could. Wanted to have nothing between them but heat and skin and soft, melting sighs.
Pulling away from his kiss, she smiled. “What about that shower?”
Gabriel’s expression was unreadable as he dropped his arms and stepped away from her. Amelia wondered if he’d changed his mind or misunderstood her signals—humans depended so much on nonverbal gestures and facial expressions, something she still found difficult to interpret—but he only turned to pull open the frosted glass shower door.
“Let’s get the water nice and hot first,” he said, reaching inside to pull the knob. Water sprayed out of the shower head and he shook the droplets from his hand.
When he faced her again, it was with a look of such intense focus, Amelia couldn’t possibly misinterpret it. She was being hunted. The only problem was, she didn’t want to run, didn’t want to save herself. Not tonight, and not from Gabriel.
He stepped in front of her. It didn’t matter that he was so much taller and bigger than she was. As an angel, her strength was ten times that of the average human. Still, she hesitated, insecurity raising its head for quite another reason. She was misleading him. Using him. After asking him to believe in her, trust her, ultimately, she was going to—
“You’re still thinking too much,” he whispered with a smile.
Gabriel’s hands fell to her waist, slowly pushing up her sweater until it gathered just beneath her breasts. Amelia closed her eyes. She took a breath and lifted her arms, letting him pull the soft fabric over her head. He clutched it in a fist at the base of her spine for a halting moment before the garment fell to the floor behind her and he leaned down to take her mouth in another of his thrilling kisses.
Suddenly it wasn’t enough. Amelia needed more and Gabriel seemed to feel the same urgency.
They ate at each other hungrily, sucking and tasting, tongues probing. Amelia blindly reached for hem of Gabriel’s shirt, dragging it up until he took over and impatiently yanked it the rest of the way off. She blinked as their mouths parted. The sound of the water slapping hard against the ceramic tiles echoed inside the shower. The steam grew thick and heavy, filling the bathroom with heat that was already fogging up the mirror.
She needed to touch him. Her fingers trailed lightly over his chest. She halted over the small rings winking at her from each of his nipples.
“Go ahead,” he said, his voice thick. “Flick them, pull them.”
“It doesn’t hurt?”
“Only in a really good way.”
She did as he said, pulling gently first on one ring, then the other. His hoarse groan melted her insides and she shivered as she imagined how it would feel to have his mouth tugging like that on her breasts.
“Take off your pants,” she said.
Gabriel glanced up at her sharply, looking a little shocked at her harshly voiced command, but he didn’t balk. He took a step back. Amelia watched, transfixed, as he worked the buckle of his belt open, pulling it through the thick loops with a deliberate snap. It landed on the bathroom floor with a heavy clunk.
“Now you,” he said.
Dragging her attention from the sight of Gabriel’s fingers hovering over the button of his jeans, Amelia looked into his gleaming eyes and quickly unbuckled her own belt, leaving it hanging from the loops of her jeans.
Then she waited.
He took his cue from her, deftly toeing off his boots and pulling off his socks. He flicked the button of his jeans, spreading open the fly before pushing the denim down his legs. When he’d stepped out of his clothes and kicked everything into a far corner of the room, he stood tall and looked to her with a raised brow as if to ask whether she liked what she saw.
Amelia knew he didn’t require an answer. He was well aware of the fact that he took her breath away. She couldn’t turn her gaze from the picture he presented. His long, muscled legs covered in dark, wiry hair. Slim waist and solid, defined torso and chest. He was hard. Lean. Male.
Her gaze dropped to the erection that pushed out the front of a pair of black cotton boxer briefs that hugged his thighs.
She continued her examination of his body until he cleared his throat. She slowly made her way
back up to his face.
“Well?” He waited patiently, but his eyes said that perhaps his patience was running thin.
Amelia recognized the challenge in his voice and felt nothing of her earlier hesitation. Eager to follow suit, she pulled on the zipper of her jeans and quickly shucked them over her hips and down her legs.
When she stood straight and reached behind her to unhook her bra, Gabriel stepped forward. “No, wait,” he said, reaching for her elbow and pulling her close. “Let me do the rest.”
His thumbs slipped beneath the thin straps and dragged them over her shoulders and down her arms until the lace cups pulled back, revealing her tight, aching nipples to the steamy air.
“Jesus,” he whispered, looking down at her. His hands hovered over her breasts. She thought he would touch them, but after a brief hesitation he settled on her shoulders and back, moving his hands over her spine, between her shoulder blades to the clasp of her bra. Amelia let him pull the garment from her arms and watched it fall to the floor with the rest of their clothes.
“You’re so beautiful.”
She shook her head. She didn’t want to hear about her beauty. He was only talking about her body, but what part of her did Gabriel truly see?
This body couldn’t reflect who she really was. An angel who hadn’t been able to experience emotion of any kind for more than a millennium, had taken up a sword and killed her own kind to uphold Michael’s decrees, and hadn’t felt an iota of remorse.
Who am I?
Was she the angel who had devoted herself to duty for as long as she could remember? Was she the warrior who prepared for war even now, readying herself for the betrayal that must come to pass? Was she the angel who had begun to have dangerous doubts about the part she’d played in the history of her race?
Or was she simply the woman who stood before Gabriel in this moment, eager to give in to the human feelings he’d unknowingly awakened in her?
Not even Amelia herself knew for sure.
Gabriel descended to his knees at her feet. Amelia looked down at him in alarm, but he simply reached for the waistband of her pretty panties and slowly drew them over her hips before leaning forward to press his face into the softness of her belly.