Page 39 of Heal Me

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiles. “That feather has your name all over it.” I gently lay it on the bedside table and slide back into his arms, my head on his chest. “And your sweet pussy juices all over it.”

“Gabe Jennings, you have a dirty mouth,” I gasp, my cheeks heating.

“Give me a few minutes for round two, and I’ll show you just how dirty of a mouth I have.” He laughs, and it’s the most beautiful sound.

I’d love to stay right where I am, blissfully snuggled with this Nephilim, but if I do, I’ll be out in about two seconds. “I’m going to get ready for bed. Can you stay?” I ask, suddenly nervous what his answer is going to be.

“Of course, I’d love nothing more.”

“Good. Let me check and see if I have an extra toothbrush.” A toothbrush appears in his hand. “Never mind, then,” I laugh as I walk to the bathroom and do an abbreviated version of my nighttime routine.

Gabe knocks and I walk past him to give him solo bathroom time, but I stop abruptly. “I didn’t know you had a tattoo. What does this mean?” I ask, tracing my finger along unusual red crisscross markings made up of tiny symbols or letters, I’m not sure. The tattoo spans the entirety of his back.

“It’s a Watchers thing,” he says, moving away from my touch.

I exit the bathroom to give him privacy, and he joins me in bed a few minutes later. I snuggle in close to him and drift off to sleep without a care in the world, for the first time in as long as I can remember.

Chapter 17

Charlotte

Gabe stirs, and I snuggle closer to him. “Morning,” he says in a gravelly tone.

“Morning.” I smile against his chest. He places his finger under my chin to move my head up and meet his gaze.

“Last night was…” He pauses.

“Oh,” I say, attempting to scoot away from him. He grabs me, and suddenly he’s on top, holding some of his weight off me with his hands caging my body.

“What I was going to say was last night was beyond incredible. But…” he says with a grin I’m coming to adore.

“There’s a but?” I say, cupping his cheeks, loving this playful side of Gabe.

“But let’s see if we can top it this morning,” he whispers, gently biting my earlobe, sending a shiver down my entire body.

We spend the morning in bed until our rumbling stomachs let us know it’s time to take a break, and this time, I’m not embarrassed about it.

I rise and throw on a sweatshirt and gingerly pull on a pair of panties and leggings, wincing just a little bit. I’m sore in all the right places. “Did I hurt you?” Gabe asks, appearing before me and cradling my face in his hands.

“No,” I say, standing on my tiptoes and giving him a kiss. “Breakfast,” I announce. “Are you hungry?”

“I wouldn’t mind eating your sweet—”

“Gabe Jennings.” I play smack him. “How do you take your eggs?”

“However you fix them is how I take them.”

“Are you always this agreeable?”

“After last night and this morning’s worship? Yes, ma’am, I am agreeable.”

“Don’t expect me to call you a demigod,” I tell him, hands on my hips. I might as well have, though, as I worshipped him plenty this morning.

He gives a satisfied smile, and I take the moment to admire his body. He’s long and lean, with just the right proportion of muscles. Suddenly, he’s wearing a pair of checked pajama pants and a black T-shirt. “How did you do that?” I ask, leading us downstairs to the kitchen.

“I think about what I want and I call it to me.” An invisible force is now holding up the drawstring of my leggings and I get pulled to him. He lifts me up like I weigh nothing and sets me on the countertop. Nestled between my legs, he playfully nuzzles my neck.

“Wait, I thought you wanted breakfast,” I say with a laugh, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Before you go calling me all over the apartment, I need to start breakfast.” Giving him a quick kiss and hopping down, I grab the butter and eggs from the fridge. Turning on the stove eye, I drop a pat of butter in the frying pan.

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