“Sorry, what?”
He chuckled. “I asked how you were feeling this morning.”
“I’m fine. How about you? Are you nervous?”
“Not really. But I’m glad you’re coming with me. I’m supposed to be at the hospital at ten. That gives us plenty of time for some extracurricular activities after I’ve finished shaving. You’ll have to give me something to tide me over for the next three weeks.”
He continued his ritual, the razor moving expertly.
“I can do that.” She approached him and pressed an openmouthed kiss between his shoulder blades.
“I think we should wait until after I’ve finished. You’re distracting me.”
“Really?”
She kissed him again, this time wrapping her hands over the tops of his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense beneath her fingers.
“I can’t help myself, Professor. I love touching you.”
She traced the lines of his biceps, moving to his forearms, admiring muscle and sinew. She pressed her lips to the hills and valley of his spine before tracing the dimples that winked at her above the edge of the towel.
He placed a heavy hand on top of the vanity.
“I can’t shave while you’re touching me.”
“Then maybe I should do it for you.”
“Oh, really?” A heated look passed between them.
“You enjoy feeding me. Perhaps I’d enjoy shaving you.”
“You’re very provocative this morning.”
“Maybe I need a sexy memory to get me through our marital celibacy.”
Gabriel put his razor aside and gestured in front of him, a look of amusement on his face.
She moved into the gap, facing him. In one swift moment, he lifted her to sit on the counter.
He spread her knees, pushing her robe out of the way. Then he stood between her legs.
His eyes drifted down. “No panties this morning?”
“I haven’t gotten that far yet.”
“Lucky for me.” He smiled while his fingers fumbled with the knot at her waist. “Lucky for us your cycle hasn’t started yet.”
She placed her hands over his, stopping him.
“Will you teach me to shave you?”
“Shaving is overrated.”
“I’d like to do this for you.”
He made a show of sighing, as if his patience were being tested. Then he picked up the razor. “Shave with the direction the hair grows, but don’t apply pressure. The blade is very sharp.”
He stepped away, looking in the mirror as he demonstrated his technique. Satisfied with his display, he rinsed the razor before placing it in her hand.
She looked at him. Then she looked at the razor, at the blade that gleamed in the halogen light.
“Stage fright, Mrs. Emerson?”
“I’m afraid I’ll make you bleed.”
His eyes bore into hers. “Then you know how I felt your first time.”
Julia’s heart rate increased at the memory. He’d been very worried that night, but very, very gentle.
He pressed his lips to her wrist, drawing on the skin. “You’ll be careful.”
He separated the edges of her robe before pushing the silk over her shoulders. Then he placed his palm between her br**sts, feeling her heartbeat.
Julia arched an eyebrow. “You want me to shave you, half– naked?”
“No.” He moved his mouth to her ear and dropped his voice to a throaty whisper. “I want you to shave me completely naked.”
He took his time unfastening her belt, as if he were unwrapping a gift. Then he stood between her knees again.
“There’s nothing sexier than having the woman you love shave you, while you enjoy her body.”
Julia shuddered as the cooler air swirled around her heated skin. She placed her left hand on his shoulder to steady herself.
He nodded and she began.
The safety razor glided simply and easily over his skin without any need for pressure. All the while, two sapphire eyes focused on her.
He placed his hands at her waist and began stroking her hip bones with his thumbs.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” She rinsed the razor. “I’ll nick you.”
“Perhaps it would be an exercise in self-control for both of us.”
His fingertips traced a path up to her br**sts, circling them lightly. When she moaned, he slid his hands back to her waist.
“I like the feel of your skin under my hands.”
She met his gaze. “So do I.”
She swallowed hard and returned to what she was doing, trying to ignore the feel of his fingers gliding over her abdomen and between her br**sts. He began to tease her ni**les, which were extremely sensitive.
“I guess you must trust me,” she ground out, trying to keep her hand steady.
He stroked a finger over the prominent peaks. “I do, Julianne. More than I’ve ever trusted anyone.”
His eyes were tender, their blue intensity communicating far more than his words could. “But I can’t see you and not touch you.”
He cupped her br**sts, cradling them gently in deference to her forthcoming cycle.