Chapter 19: Dancing with the Devil

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Returning from the bathroom, I find Gabriel sitting all by his onesie

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Returning from the bathroom, I find Gabriel sitting all by his onesie.

The art exhibition was intimate, and quite an overwhelming success. Duncan, Gabriel's friend, has a knack for charcoal drawings, particularly those of African and Native American women.

I admire the life size drawings; the details to their lips and stark cheekbones make them eerily realistic.

As we wander through the rows of other artists, Gabriel makes a point of placing a hand on the square of my back, whispering sweet nothings in my ear; making sure, no doubt, that everyone knows I'm his.

He once again has the adulation of a number of women. His tailored navy blue Armani suit shows off a pair of broad shoulders handsomely, while contrasting gloriously with a crisp white shirt, which he leaves unbuttoned at the top allowing his tattoo to peek out but only just.

There seems to be a band setup and ready to play. Approaching the high bar table, Gabriel politely stands up but I shake my head, "It's fine, I'll stand. My dress is too short for barstools." I add, giggling into his ear.

"Are you having a good time?" He asks as I lean back between his legs.

"I am. Thanks for inviting me."

"You are very welcome. Duncan is having an after party; his friend is hosting. Are you keen?"

I am certainly keen to see more of Gabriel in a social setting. For someone who appears to be rather elusive, I'm surprised that he's enjoying the social scene; even though he still remained rather to himself at the event, talking mainly to Duncan and myself. But on the occasion of being in mixed company, he is charming and the perfect gentleman.

"Holy shit! Is that The Weeknd?" I say a lot more excitedly than planned. Gabriel chuckles at my star struck vibes.

"He's a good friend of Duncan's."

"Of course he is." I scoff, and Gabriel laughs. That husky laugh of his really is finding it's way into my heart... I mean, head.

After a quick, unneeded, introduction from Duncan, The Weeknd nods seriously, thanking him for his art.

Wicked Games starts playing.

Of course. He just had to choose one of his sexiest songs. I can't help but whoop along with a few of the admirers as Gabriel wraps his arms along my waist, pulling my body between his legs.

The sexual tension has been palpable all day and all night, and the mood and setting isn't helping.

My body moves slowly to the beat as I sing along. I can feel Gabriel's warm breathe against my neck, making the hairs on my neck stand on end.

"I haven't been able to take my eyes off you all night," he whispers gruffly in my ear; my goosebumps have goosebumps, and his hand glides down my arm while the other runs along my hip.

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