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So when Gabriel grabs my hip and pulls me into him, sliding his arms around me possessively, I allow it.
Okay, so it’s a lot more than “allow”.
His mouth lowers to mine, his eyes sparking with something dangerous, fiery and addictive.
Something that flays me open and sucks the air from my lungs.
Then he’s kissing me.
Hard.
I stiffen, my breath catching at the ferocity of his kiss. At the low rumble of a growl in his chest, and the way his hands tighten on my body like I belong to him.
I melt against him as everything else fades away—the crowd, the cameras, the cheering… It all goes numb as I lose myself in the most sensual, electric, and captivating kiss of my life.
It’s very different from the way he kissed me the other night. There’s no teeth, violence, blood or cum. But somehow, this one shakes me to my core just as hard.
And just like the last one, it’s like nothing I ever expected.
Slowly, Gabriel pulls away with a slight final tug on my bottom lip. His eyes lock with mine.
“That isn’t what we practiced,” I whisper.
“No,” he murmurs, leaning in. He kisses the crook of my neck, and then nips lightly at my ear. “No, it’s not.”
20
GABRIEL
“Good morning, Mr. Black.”
I smile my customary clean, polished grin at Jan as she hands me my coffee along with a file folder.
“Morning, Jan. Thank you.”
“Of course, Mr. Black,” she beams. “And, if I may ask…”
I chuckle. “The wedding was fantastic.” I waggle a finger at her, playfully chastising her. “We missed you, you know.”
She groans as she scrunches up her face. “I know, I know!” She sighs. “Believe me, my weekend was far less exciting.”
I flash another smile, tucking the file under my arm and resting my free hand on her shoulder. My brow furrows into its best Concerned Expression. “And Chuck is feeling fine after his operation?”
She blushes, rolling her eyes at me. “Don’t think because you were sneaky and didn’t sign the card that I didn’t guess who those flowers were from.”
I laugh heartily, spreading my arms in appeal. “What gave it away?”
“You mean beside the fact that I’m the one that set up your accounts with every decent florist in the city?”
I shake my head, wagging another finger at her. “You got me there. You’re too good, Jan.”
“And you are too kind, Mr. Black,” she smiles. “Chuck’s doing just fine. He’s just grouchy about missing the Knicks game this?—”
Her eyes go wide as I pull out two crisp, glossy, courtside tickets to the Knicks-Heat game in a few weeks.
“Mr. Black…”
“Tell Chuck to brush up on his cinema before you go. These are next to Spike Lee’s season tickets.”
