To hell with it, he thought rashly, ready to jerk her mouth to his, to plunge deep and taste forever, until neither could walk away.
As though she felt the change, she raised herself toward him. His fingers dived into the silken black strands tumbling around her face, and seeking, he caught her eyes. In their endless depths he saw an echo of trepidation. In that moment, Gabriel found the last threadbare remnants of gallantry. He refused to take advantage, despite the erotic promise. Love, if it was true, demanded sacrifice. Denial. Gripping her arms, he gave her a none too gentle shove. Above her head, he explained gruffly, “Obviously, my body wants you. That doesn’t mean I’ll have you.”
Hesitation faltered her hand, and she dropped it from his muscled chest. She wrapped chilled arms around her body. Staggering away, she refused to look at him. He’d tried to warn her, but she didn’t listen. Kisses weren’t the same as sex. What she’d imagined as restraint had actually been disinterest. She gathered tattered pride and lifted her head, determined to apologize before disappearing. It was then her distressed gaze met eyes that burned like the stars. Burned with unnamed yearnings and reflected cravings.
Doubts vanished, and gentle, unyielding affection made her want him more. And annoyed her beyond reason. Gabriel thought chivalry lay in protecting her from him. Didn’t he understand salvation could only be found in his arms? She spun to him then, triumphant. “You want me. You can’t think of anything else.”
“This isn’t right. You don’t know what you want. What you need. I can’t take advantage of that. I won’t—”
She cut off his denial. “No, I’ve never been with anyone before. Because I’ve never wanted anyone before.”
“Which is why this is a mistake. You need time. More time.” His appeal was desperate. “Stay, and I may never let you go.”
“I’m yours.” The words were erotic threat, voluptuous promise. Erin watched him with glittering eyes, waiting for his reaction.
Dragging her up, he fused his mouth to hers. Inside, his tongue streaked over and under, drew out ragged moans of pleasure. Their lips mated, parted, sampled. He bound her to him, and he plunged and devoured. Undaunted, she slid her arms around the hardened body and consumed. He tasted and grew impossibly hungry. He feasted and demanded more. His hands, too long denied, ripped at fabric, in quest of sleek skin. Torn clothing pooled at his feet, but it wasn’t enough.
“Come,” he insisted, lifting her into his greedy arms. Night pierced the dimly lit bedroom, the full moon a silent witness. In the moonlight, he stripped off the lace concoction binding her breasts, the triangle swathing her hips. When his reverent hand traced humid flesh, her knees buckled and he rejoiced.
“Come,” he demanded, tumbling her to the cool sheets. Wanting to show her, needing to give, he stroked and cajoled and gloried when she convulsed beneath him, unprepared. Her keening cry filled his ears and he laughed with exultation.
Slick, sated, strangely empty, Erin rolled over him. “Your turn.”
Spurred by imagination, she undressed him. Clothing slowly unraveled and fell unheeded to the floor. Then, in lascivious revenge, she strung hot, steamy kisses over dampened skin. She tasted him. Tormented him. Her eager tongue traced the shape of quivering muscles of his chest. She learned of the piquant flavors at his throat, the different spice of his quivering stomach. Studious, she explored long, corded thighs, lean hips, strong arms. When he arched beneath her, she tested more exotic flavors, tortured with flicks of untutored tongue and devilry.
Too near the edge, Gabriel pulled her away and up. Blood pooled and surged, and he’d barely begun. Loving her should take forever. “Let me see you,” he murmured. He turned them, determined to adore. Tracing the line of her body, he savored the elegant beauty of her form. Creamy skin and lovely, rounded curves. High, full breasts tipped with chocolate rose above the slight mound of her belly. Generous hips tapered into smooth, graceful thighs, impossibly long legs.
He dipped his head, drawing a rounded, full globe into his mouth. The pull and scrape and tug at her sensitive skin made Erin writhe against him. She slid eager fingers into his hair, held her to him. Gently he nipped at the captive peaks and her body arched in fevered response. Skimming his hands over her, he watched as sensations flooded her. He caressed and plucked and nibbled. Over and under. Inside. When her body was a quivering length of damp skin and tattered sighs, he whispered, “Let me have you.”
“Not yet.” Slithering against him, she returned his sensuous torment in full measure. Heated caresses redoubled, and she paid him back, stroke for stroke.
Soon they wrestled in rapturous battle, each determined to give. Gabriel felt himself falling and he flipped her beneath him. He fumbled for protection, groaned as she sheathed him. Then he yanked her up to face him, to see him. To know it would only ever be him.
She circled him, enticed him. “Now.”
He tried to ease into the wet heat, wanting to spare her pain. She closed around him, a damp fist of delirium and control stretched thinner, finer. Her body bucked once, and he surged forward. “Wait,” he gasped. “Be still.”
“I can’t.” Reaching for the unknown, her hips tilted and he slid deeper. “Please.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Forcing their hands above her thrashing head, Gabriel clutched her wrists, joined their fingers. He pressed their lips together in a kiss that seized her heart. “I couldn’t bear to hurt you.”
“I know.” Erin stirred restlessly against the corded body of sinew and skin, the body that promised her ecstasy just beyond her reach. Her slim back bowed like a reed, trying to take all of him. “You won’t.”
Slowly, inexorably, he moved within the satiny pulse of heat, surrounded and captivated. At the barrier, he captured her mouth in a frenzied kiss. When her body trembled and his vibrated in counterpoint, he knew.
“Now,” they moaned in aroused unison.
He flowed inside her. She surrounded him. Control, tenuous and thready, snapped. Frantic, urgent, their bodies joined together, hips dancing in sinuous motion, building heady enchantment.
They sank into each other, unwilling to be apart.
They chased their pleasure, unable to be still.
They came together, knowing no other way.
Erin, Gabriel discovered to his amusement, slept with mindless abandon. Pale moonlight filtered through sheer curtains and highlighted the naked figure sprawled across the bed. Mussed hair tickled his chin, and even, peaceful breaths warmed his chest. One slender leg draped over his thigh shifted slightly, awakening his loins in a rush. Elegant fingers curled around his shoulder, and turning his head a little, he saw the other hanging off the bed. During the night, he’d roused himself enough to cover them with a tangled sheet, but it now bunched at her narrow feet.
Rather long, narrow feet for someone who beat fivetwo by an eyelash. The incongruity pleased him, as did the sight of fuchsia polish on her toes. Intrigued, he gingerly slipped from beneath her. The wide bed allowed room for him to reverse his position, so he could take a closer look. Never before, Gabriel realized, had he been aroused by the sight of a woman’s feet. But the graceful construction, smooth skin, and irrepressible polish necessitated attention. And salutation.
She shifted and lay back, sighing in unconscious pleasure. Gabriel grinned and set himself to his task in earnest. Soft, open kisses traced dainty ankles, anointed tapered legs. He lingered over the tender skin behind supple knees, the faultless sweep of thigh. As he cupped her lush bottom, his mouth lazily explored the hollow of her navel, suckled at the luxurious apex of perfect breasts. Languidly, masterfully, he sketched shallow creases with licks of wet fire, tantalized mounds with restrained greed. Complicated flavors burst on his tongue. Piquant, sharp, sweet, resilient. “Erin,” he sighed into her humid skin.
She emerged from sleep, damp and ready, into a morning shot through with sumptuous flames. Enthralled, she watched as he feasted, feeling the punch of release in shattering tremors. Her cry of s
atisfaction alerted him to her waking, but he paid her no heed. Before morning fully broke, he would memorize every valley, every peak. He would imprint himself on her, defying her to forget.
When she begged for completion, he denied her. Kisses singed her questing arms, rough licks of tongue sampled the hands he adored. Once he finished his journey of discovery where his mouth committed to heart lips and cheek and eyelids, he ranged over Erin’s twisting form and began a sensual voyage down the smooth skin of shoulders, the faint ridges of her spine, the shadowed cleft beneath her hips.
Finally, having mapped what no other man had, he covered himself and slid inside. In concert, he took her mouth and her body, parried and thrust with a recklessness that he couldn’t control. Discipline, restraint, control had no dominion. Only now. Only the glide of dewy skin, the violent tenderness of passionate kisses, and the race for more.
But Erin refused pliancy. With quick motions, she straddled him, taking them deeper. She rose above him, triumphant and wanton. He guided her, then gave himself to her devastating lead. Lightning flashed through her hips. Thunder rolled in his veins. The climax, when it came, pitched them together into the dark, into the dawn.
“I love you.” Gabriel stroked her trembling form, his lungs strained for air. His mind cautioned silence, but his heart had other plans. Before she could respond, he hurried into muffled explanation. “All that matters is you. I love you.” He heard her inhale, prepared to speak. The possibilities sprinted through him and he realized he could only bear one answer. But she said nothing. Fighting lassitude and the dull ache of disappointment, he shut his eyes and drifted off.
Devastated by her frozen silence, Erin curled into him. She wanted to tell him what she felt, but she couldn’t trust the words. Or the riot of feelings that reeled inside her. In mute response, she pressed a fervent kiss to the chest rising and falling with signs of sleep. Above his heart. There, the steady beat was strong and true. Like Gabriel. She hadn’t known her capacity for joy until him. Hadn’t realized her ability to feel until he held her.
She’d thought of herself as emotionally numbed, too different to love or be loved. Nathan had told her so, too many times. Irritated that he would intrude upon this moment, Erin angrily thrust the image aside. Nathan was the past. Gabriel was her present, possibly her future. If she could find the words.
CHAPTER 26
Erin awoke to the scent of coffee and pancakes filling the apartment. Slipping on one of Gabriel’s shirts, she wandered into the kitchen. Gabriel stood at the breakfast bar.
“Good morning,” he said, sliding a cup of coffee to the edge of the bar. After a couple of hours’ sleep, he’d bounded out of bed with renewed determination to woo Erin. Starting with breakfast.
“Morning.” She rubbed at her eyes, remembering the last moments before she’d succumbed to exhaustion. Of his mumbled confession that he loved her. Of her glaring silence. Faltering, she paused at the entryway, uncertain of her next move. She had absolutely no experience to draw upon.
Gabriel saw her hesitate and he suddenly realized he had no idea what he should say to her. Running his fingers through hair that definitely needed a cut, he exhaled sharply. He’d have to wing it. “Breakfast will be ready in five minutes.” With deft motions, he flipped omelets onto a serving plate. Soon they sat down to breakfast.
“Erin,” Gabriel began after taking a bracing gulp of juice, “we need to talk.” Great, he thought disgustedly. You sound like the morning after in a bad movie. “I mean, we need to think about what happened last night.”
“And this morning,” Erin corrected lightly. “Several times, I seem to remember.”
“Uh, yeah.” Gabriel stared at her, unable to read her expression.
Seconds ticked by in absolute silence. Finally, Erin giggled. “Oh, Gabriel.” She laughed uncontrollably. “You should see your face.”
“What’s so damned funny about my face?”
“The fact that you’re terrified the poor deflowered virgin is expecting a proposal of marriage.”
Red skated along his cheeks. “I’m not scared of you.”
“You’re scared witless.” Erin got up and came around to his side of the table. She kissed him sweetly. “It’s adorable.”
“You think my attempt at chivalry is laughable?” Gabriel caught her around the waist and pulled her, protesting, into his lap. Impossibly, he was as rigid as steel. Did she realize he was only this way with her? “Erin—”
“I have you, Gabriel. That’s all I want.” She let him draw her to him, felt the sweet slide into oblivion when he kissed her and carried her back into the bedroom. Felt the liquid pull of paradise when he moved inside her as dawn broke.
He made love with her, felt himself explode within her warm, satin embrace. Felt his heart break when his confession was met by a scorching kiss, rather than words. Felt the painful tug of unrequited love when he cradled her into him.
Breakfast forgotten, they spent the early-morning hours in bed, learning each other. How Gabriel writhed in agony when she tickled his sides. The wide streak of adventure in the wary Erin. And they learned about themselves. Erin hadn’t known the dimensions of lovemaking, the art of bringing your partner laughter as well as ecstasy. Gabriel hadn’t realized his capacity for generosity, driven to see pleasure overtake her before he followed her over the edge.
Too soon, the phone shrilled for attention. Gabriel fumbled for the receiver. “Moss.”
“Get your ass down here.” Peter pounded the desktop, and his lunch of coffee and a stale croissant bounced under the reverberations. “It’s nearly nine o’clock. We’ve got another paper to put together. Advertisers have been ringing Kelly’s phone off the hook. Stroke of brilliance, Gabe. Sheer brilliance. So get down here and steer the ship.”
“You’re the managing editor,” Gabriel protested, exhausted and unwilling to leave the sleepy body wrapped so close to his. He stroked the long, slender limbs, marveling at their perfection. “Manage.”
“You’re the damned fool who decided we should become a daily.” In a rare show of discretion, Peter lowered his voice to a muted roar. “Let Erin get some rest and come downstairs. Better yet, bring her with you. That young wolf she brought with her yesterday has been prowling around since morning.”
Gabriel stiffened. “He’s downstairs?”
“Yep. I’ve gotten Gennie to entertain him, but he keeps coming in here, demanding I produce the professor.”
Gabriel had stopped on a single phrase. “You left my sister with Sebastian Cain?”
Gleefully Peter corrected him. “No. You left Sebastian Cain alone down here and he discovered your sister.”
“Son of a—” The reasons for pummeling Cain redoubled in legitimacy. “I’ll be down in fifteen minutes.”
“Ten. I told Kelly to get us orders for a Saturday edition.” Satisfied, Peter rang off. He sipped at his mug of coffee. Articles sat stacked high in front of him, and he merrily set about trimming the fat. By God, he loved his job. At the Chronicle, he’d been an important cog in a well-oiled machine. With the Ledger, he was the engine. Gabriel’s story had caught fire and hopefully, Peter thought, a criminal. The Ledger would outpace the Chronicle in a year’s time. In three years, the Chronicle would be birdcage fodder.
Relishing the image, he winnowed through pages of copy. In the middle of the stack, he found an unread piece on gentrification. The writer had crisp prose and clever wordplay. Peter made several notes in the margin, punched up a line or two, and inserted queries. When he finished, he scrolled through the copy until he was satisfied. He searched for a byline but saw nothing. A flip of the page revealed nothing. No byline. No submission date. No nothing.
Before he could attack the staff for shoddy workmanship, Gabriel swung into his office. “Where’s Cain?”
Hoping Erin was on her way, Peter stalled and handed him the gentrification piece. “Read this.”
Gabriel dropped into the chair on the other side of Peter’s desk a
nd fished in the cup holder for a pen that wasn’t green. After a second pass, he looked up. “This is good. Damned good. Who’s the writer?”
“Dunno.” Peter jabbed the intercom. “Whoever wrote the article on gentrification, get in my office now!”
Peter muted but didn’t kill the speaker. It amused him to hear the anxious reporters out in the newsroom scramble. Good for their development, he thought. An eagle eye kept the pressure on. The fact that he kept his shades drawn so he couldn’t see out was for his privacy alone. It had nothing to do with giving them breathing room.
A timid knock elicited a booming, “Come!”
“Peter?” Genevieve paused on the threshold. Her eyes widened when she spotted her brother. “Gabe.”
“Gennie. What can I do for you?” Peter glanced at the clock. A few more hours before the dummy had to be set. “Looking for Gabriel?”
She fiddled with the handle in a nervous gesture Gabriel recognized. Hiding a smile, Gabriel beckoned her in. “She’s not here for me, Peter.”
“No. I came to see you about the gentrification article.”
“You know who wrote it?”
“Yes.” She screwed up her courage. “I did.”
Saying nothing, Peter picked up the article. “It’s wordy. And you announce your personal sentiments very clearly.”
“Oh. Well. It was just—”
“What? A lark? You think we have time to play here?”
“Of course not.” Genevieve stood proudly. “I may not be a reporter, but I understand the business. I wouldn’t waste your time.”
“Then why slip it into the pile without a byline?”
“Because I wanted your honest reaction. And I got it.” Dreams die hard, she thought. But at least she’d finally tried. “I’ll get out of your way.”
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