Falling for Hope Page 9

  “It’s not much, but we get some good touring pieces from time to time. Come on.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him to the spiral staircase. “I want to show you something specific.”

  His hand engulfed her dainty one as she tugged him along. He watched her face set in determination as she walked at a quick clip to wherever it was she was leading him. Something inside him stirred to life at that moment, and he could feel her resolve as it seeped into him through her clasped hand. Interesting.

  When she got to a large three-paneled painting, she stopped and dropped his hand, exhaling a loud breath as she did so. “Here. Isn’t it breath-taking?”

  Her face radiated with a yearning he couldn’t comprehend. When he looked at the painting she had maneuvered them in front of, he had to steel himself to keep from reacting to the familiar image. It was him.

  What had drawn her to this particular image? Did she see the resemblance? He knew that she knew he was different, but he wasn’t sure if the time was right to tell her everything. This certainly wasn’t the place.

  She rubbed her arms, as if struck by a sudden chill, and Gabe moved behind her to help. As his hands stroked the bumps forming on her arms, he was glad she couldn’t see his face. He’d lost the ability to hide emotions, since he didn’t used to have emotions. He hadn’t seen this painting in centuries, and was surprised to find it here with Hope. He remembered Titian, and when he’d painted it, his genuflections, the master’s praises for the muse. Not that Gabe had done anything really. He hadn’t even told him who he really was. Apparently though, after seeing this particular piece, Titian had known at some level what his real identity was.

  “What do you like about it?” He asked quietly in her ear.

  “I’m not really sure, but I’ve been sort of drawn to it since it’s been here, especially the Gabriel part.” She gestured toward the top left corner, his portrait. “It sort of looks like you, don’t you think?”

  He made a noncommittal sound in his throat, wishing he hadn’t moved behind her to see Hope’s face now. Would she look at him the way he looked in the painting?

  “The emotion on Gabriel’s face is so…I don’t know…It’s wrenching, don’t you think? It just amazes me how something like that can be captured with a paintbrush and some pigments.”

  “It is quite extraordinary,” Gabe agreed, still looking at the painting. She said she was drawn to it. Gabe wondered if that meant anything. “When did you first see it?”

  “Oh, about two months ago. They usually do ten-week visits with the touring pieces, so this one’s about to move on. I wanted to show you before it was gone.”

  Before his arrival. “And you were drawn to it then?” She nodded, and he couldn’t take anymore of only seeing the top of her head. He moved back alongside her. The look on her face was rapturous. No other word described it. Her eyes were wide and her mouth slightly open as she gazed at the painting. The beauty she exuded reminded him of some other of Titian’s Renaissance muses.

  He wanted to kiss her.

  Before he could act on the impulse, he noticed a toddler behind Hope, near the spiral staircase. It was a little boy, struggling to get out of his mother’s white-knuckled grip. The mother was chatting with a friend, absently tugging the boy back to her. He could see the little boy’s tiny had slipping free, but the mother seemed unaware. If he slipped free, the momentum of the tot’s leaning would send him tumbling down two flights of stairs.

  And then it happened.

  The mother’s fingers snapped together as the little boy wiggled his hand out. The furrowed brows of concentration on his face gave way to surprise as he found the ground no longer under his feet. Gabe stopped time and walked through the sea of frozen people to catch the tot, setting him back on his feet and clasping his hand back in his mother’s, before turning to go back to Hope.

  She was standing there watching him, mouth agape.

  “What in the world is going on?”

  Gabe looked around, at the people frozen mid-step, mouths open mid-conversation, cameras held mid-click, and realized that Hope alone was unfrozen.

  “Um…” This had never happened before. He’d never been visible to anyone when he did this, and he felt as if he were caught red-handed. Chagrined, he shrugged, “I was helping?”

  “I can see that, Gabe. But what are you doing to these people?” She waved her hand around the room.

  “It’s complicated.” He wanted to tell her, but still wasn’t sure the timing was right. In fact, he’d never been so unsure of anything in his long, long life.

  “What are you?” She asked in a hushed whisper.

  “I promise, I can explain it all, Hope.” He took her willing hands in his, once again surprised at her faith in him. “Just add it to the list of things I need to tell you.” When she opened her mouth to say something, he put a finger over her lips. “I promise I will. Soon. This isn’t really the place for it.” He replaced his finger with his lips, silencing her. When he finished kissing her, he resumed time, to see the little boy disappointed to suddenly be back in his mother’s clutches. The mother, none the wiser.

  Honestly, he didn’t know why Hope didn’t stop with everyone else. It was yet another question he needed to ask the Boss.

  Several days later, Gabe was sitting next to her on the floor in her living room, eating Chinese take-out off the coffee table. It was unorthodox by his standards, but Hope didn't have a kitchen table, so this was her norm. That was another thing he was surprised at himself that he liked about her, her ability to normalize unorthodox circumstances.

  He had managed to put off her questions, but he could see her impatience, and The Boss hadn’t been willing to show up for a meeting, so he’d been biding his time. Waiting for something to happen, either with Hope or The Boss, he wasn’t sure which.

  "Gabe?" He looked up to see her holding a piece of chicken out for him to take. He opened his mouth, and willingly ate the chicken from her chopsticks, licking his lips greedily. He couldn't taste the chicken, only feel the texture, but she seemed to enjoy it, and that was enough for him. "My turn." She parted her lips and closed her eyes, waiting expectantly. "Surprise me." Her voice was lower, and Gabe recognized the timbre.

  "Oh yeah? You want a surprise?" He chuckled at her eager expression, and reached for an egg roll and put the end in her mouth. She closed her lips around it, and instead of biting down on it and taking a bite, Hope worked the end with her mouth, swirling her tongue around it, nibbling, tasting, oh holy Lord, she was sucking it.

  Ever since that night, when he’d agreed to go beyond “second base,” they’d had some pretty heavy sessions. He’d discovered what she felt like under the scraps of cloth she referred to as panties, and she’d shown him what she could do for him. She’d been so curious, eager, and innocent all at the same time with him that he couldn’t stop her. And it had felt glorious. He found himself wanting her to do it all the time.

  "Hope…" His voice was suddenly strangled with need. His blood had pooled to his groin as soon as she'd opened her sweet little mouth. It had been doing that a lot lately, and he'd been trying to stifle the urge, but this thing with the egg roll was his undoing.

  She giggled, as he pushed her back and straddled her waist, sitting on his heels to keep his weight from crushing her, yet effectively pinning her hands to her sides. She wiggled a little, but wasn't fighting him. Her eyes were open, staring at him with desire.

  He was putting forth a Herculean effort to not take advantage of her. He wanted to make sure. He needed to be sure she was his.

  He realized he was just staring at her when she asked, "What are you thinking, Gabriel?"

  "I'm thinking of how badly I want you, and how hard it is to not take you." He stroked her arm lightly, watching goosebumps rise on her creamy skin. "And I'm thinking how lovely my name sounds coming out of your perfect little mouth…" Hope was wearing a sleeveless button down shirt, and Gabe's fingers moved to her neck, tracing circles on the exposed pa
rt. He watched her breasts rise and fall with her breathing, her pulse pound erratically in her throat. Slowly, he unbuttoned one button of her shirt. Then the next.

  "Are you a gentleman, Gabe? Is that why you won't make love to me?" Her voice was small, unsure. Her eyes told him he was hurting her by not making love to her. He unbuttoned another button on her blouse, while he thought about his answer.

  "I think you are the most exquisite human being I've ever had the privilege of contact with, Hope. You are stunning to me." He took a deep breath and unbuttoned the final button of her shirt, slowly pulling it open to expose her to him. He sucked in a lungful of air at the sight of the lacy pieces of cloth covering her breasts, and the wide expanse of smooth skin of her belly. “Every time I touch you, I feel like I’m going to jump out of my own skin…” He stroked the valley between her breasts with his knuckle, watching her breaths deepen, as the tiny bumps spread across her skin.

  "But?" She enquired, breathlessly.

  "But I need to be absolutely sure this is right, before I go forward." He saw her face close up, and he knew he'd hurt her. "I feel something for you Hope. I actually feel, which is…new to me." He pulled her blouse from one shoulder, then the next, as slowly as he could, trapping her arms further at her sides. Then, he lowered one bra strap to her elbow, exposing one breast almost to the nipple. "I don't want to be overcome by the lust so badly that I miss the rest." He looked up at her face, and could see the doubt in her eyes. "Do you trust me? Not to hurt you? I don't want to ever hurt you, Hope." His knuckle stroked her cheek.

  She answered him, but her voice was thick, and he couldn't tell what caused the thickness. It didn't sound like desire, making her voice husky and deeper. This was something else. "I trust you with my life, Gabe." She blinked rapidly, and he could see moisture in her eyes.

  "Are you crying?"

  She turned her head to the side in an attempt to hide her face, but he pulled it forward, so he could look at her. "Talk to me, Hope."

  Her lips quivered as she spoke, and Gabe suppressed the urge to kiss them. "It's just that I'm afraid all of this is a dream, Gabe. You're so perfect. So nice. So fucking hot. And you tell me how beautiful I am, when I'm clearly not. I'm a fat slob. I live in a fantasy world with fairies and talking butterflies. And you like me anyway. I don't understand it, and I'm afraid of losing you. I'm afraid that you're going to wake up one morning and wonder what the hell you’re doing with me." The words spilled from her mouth in a rushing torrent, and he could hear the tears behind them.

  "What can I do to make you believe that I care for you, Hope?" He was helpless to make her understand his attraction to her, and it made his insides twinge.

  She thought a moment, biting her lip. Gabe groaned inwardly. Every time she did that, every expanse of skin he looked at, every blink of her long eyelashes made him throb. It was a pleasure pain.

  "Let me have use of a hand, and take off your shirt." When she finally spoke, her voice held a quality that Gabe couldn't argue with. He lifted one leg, then the other, so both of her arms were free. Then he pulled his tee shirt over his head, and watched her eyes widen as she lifted her arms to trace the muscles on his chest down to his abdomen. Her touch left a trail of heat on his skin, and he hissed a harsh intake of air.

  "Hope, I don't see how this furthers the argument." He was straining, his erection jumping in his pants, needing to be free.

  "This is you, Gabe. You're all muscle and skin." Her hands moved to her own stomach, where she pushed and poked, sinking her fingers into the delicate flesh. "And this is me. I'm squishy." Her eyes came back up to his. "I understand that you think this is beautiful. I get that some guys like big girls. I'm a big girl. But what I don't understand is that you're so…" He could see her eyes darting around, as if she would find the word she was looking for on a shelf somewhere in her living room. "…otherworldly. So perfect. It's like you were sent to me from someplace else."

  Gabe scooted himself down so that his legs straddled hers, and lowered his mouth to her stomach. "Ah…Hope." He kissed her belly button, and was rewarded with a moan from her.

  "Are you trying to distract me?"

  "Nope." He continued kissing and nibbling, sucking and licking her belly button. He was trying to collect his thoughts. Gabe knew she still had questions. She had been persistent about the taste in her mouth, where he lived, his “psychic” abilities, and then the whole stopping time thing had really thrown her. He needed to tell her. But he had no idea how she would react.

  He moved his mouth a little higher and kissed the warm skin under her breasts, holding them in his hands. He couldn't control his pelvis, which was grinding into her thigh as she arched under him. She felt so good, he knew that when he got inside her, he would be lost to his lust.

  He looked up at her while his mouth made love to her breast, and saw her eyes closed, eyebrows raised to the heavens. Her head was thrown back, and she looked so ethereal, he felt his erection grow impossibly tighter. "What do you think I am?" He asked before capturing her nipple in his mouth.

  Her eyes never opened, but her mouth did, and she whispered, "An angel."

  Surprised that was her first choice, Gabe raised himself up and lowered his mouth to hers in a kiss that surprised him. Her mouth met his eagerly, and their tongues tangled with each other in what could only be a mimicry of what would happen when they made love. They pushed, pulled and thrust together, entwining with each other. Gabe's lips suckled hers, gently biting until he was sure he would lose himself in the tangy sweet taste of her mouth.

  He moaned urgently at the discovery, and mumbled into her warm moistness, "I can taste you…" before delving back for more, hands grasping her hair, as he stretched himself over the length of her body. "I can finally taste you." He tasted her mouth, her jaw, then settled his lips on the skin of her neck, sucking and licking there. Her skin tasted like nothing he'd ever imagined: warmth, color, whimsy. She tasted like Hope, and he couldn't get enough. His mouth roamed over as much of her skin as he dared. Between tastes, he said. "You're right." Down her neck to her shoulder, the skin tasted exquisite. "I'm an angel, Hope." While his mouth had a mind of its own, his eyes darted up to her face, where she was watching him carefully, breathing deeply through her own sweet, little mouth that he wanted to taste again. He moved back up to kiss her again, urgently. "I'm falling." His tongue delved back into her tangy sweetness, and with the sudden revelation that he could taste her, he felt an undeniable desire to taste all of her. His mouth trailed back down to her breasts and he took turns with them discovering that her flesh tasted slightly different in different areas. He continued down her belly, savoring the experience of her flesh there. As his fingers fumbled with the snap of her pants, he realized they were still on the floor. After pulling off her pants, he lifted her up onto her couch, settling himself on the floor between her knees.

  Hope was panting. He had no idea how this felt to her, but he honestly wasn't thinking about her pleasure. He could finally taste, and the need to taste her everywhere was so overwhelming, he couldn’t deny it. His mouth discovered her creamy white thighs, and began sampling.

  "What are you doing, Gabe?"

  Her husky voice brought him up short. He looked at her from the apex of her legs, over the white lacey panties that matched her bra. "I'm sorry, I'm hoping this isn't too forward, but I've just discovered I can taste you, and I feel the insatiable desire to taste every piece of your body." His mouth couldn't stop licking her thighs, experiencing the flesh there.

  "Does this mean we're going to…?"

  He reigned himself in, although his eyes never left her knees, which were next on his tastebuds' agenda. "Not right now. I need to explain some things, but I've got to finish this first." He raised one knee to his mouth and shushed Hope's incessant questioning by licking and sucking on the back of it. He nibbled his way down her calf to her ankle, thoroughly enjoying her feet. He worked his way back up the other leg, realizing that low moans and growls of satisf
action were coming from deep in his chest. When he reached her mound, he could smell the desire coming off her in waves, and he gently removed the delicate scrap of lace that she called panties.

  "I know this is…"

  "Shut up Gabe, and do it." She growled at him, planting her hands in his hair and pushing his face down into her slick heat.

  He obliged without another word, sinking his tongue into her, listening to her groan, feeling her shudder. Her hands tightened in his hair, and the prickly pain on his scalp intensified the sensations of Hope. He licked her folds from bottom to top, repeatedly, finally discovering the nub that stood at attention on the top with his tongue. He closed his mouth over it and sucked, feeling Hope's hands pushing his face deeper inside her. He wrapped one of his arms around the bottom of her thigh, moving it onto his shoulder, and explored her wiry curls with that hand. His other hand went to her folds, opening them, and stuck in a finger, feeling the heat of the inside of Hope's body. Suddenly, his erection jumped, and impossibly hardened more, until he felt as if he himself would burst into a million pieces.

  She tasted stronger down here. The flavor of desire: a warm musky tang unlike anything he'd ever experienced. There were no words for this.

  Hope was writhing on her couch, and Gabe put his other hand around her thigh, trying to hold her still, but if her moans and gasps were any evidence, this was pleasurable to her. So he continued.

  He licked the length of her folds again, ending at the nub on the top, flicking it with his tongue before delving it inside of her heat, pushing in and out. He repeated the process until Hope squeezed her thighs together, moaning louder. He pushed his tongue inside and tried to flick the rough spot he'd found in there, feeling her muscles spasm around it, as she screamed his name, her body convulsing. He continued licking her, tasting the newness of her climax, until her body went limp, with the occasional spasm. He rested his head on her thigh and looked up at her.

  He'd never seen anything so magnificent in all his days. Hope was sprawled on the couch, legs open wide, showing him all her beauty. Her ample breasts lay there, nipples erect. Her hair was spread out in a tousled halo of gold. Her skin was flushed with satiation.