Gabriel opens the double window and hops onto the ledge, ready to fly off.
My shoulders slump. I’ll have to deal with the trio of my students on my own. “Thank you for your time, Your Highness.”
The angel extends a hand. Fresh gashes mar his palm. I don’t ask about them, just stand there confused. Is he inviting me to come along for a ride? I want to ask, but I don’t, because if he’s not, that’ll make me feel like a presumptuous hopeful fool, so I get back to Luna’s birthday before he takes off. “The tradition is to ask permission for an unsupervised birthday party. She intends to ask, and if you refuse, she intends to”—I air quote—”raise hell.” I feel like the weight left my chest. Yes, I ratted out my students, but I have a feeling Luna really will raise hell and that isn’t an idle threat.
“Ms. Combs, I know what you came here to ask.” He wiggles his fingers.
I lift my hand and wiggle mine in return. “Oh, okay. Goodbye. See you later, I guess.” Weird.
He laughs from the depths of his mighty muscular chest, and I swear it reverberates all over my breasts. Dear Lord, this is awful. No wonder mortals stay away from this angel. One can’t control one’s emotions within a mile of his presence. Everyone wants to rub on him and all his goodness, though that’s not what I want. I want to rub on him for different reasons, but those would stay buried inside my secret vault where all the other highly inappropriate fantasies live.
“You may approach,” he says.
Wha…? The sun shines through the window and bathes his dark caramel complexion, making it even more flawless than it already is.
“I’ll fly you to your class,” he clarifies.
Get. Out. There’s something wrong with our holy Highness today. I should probably report his behavior to someone, preferably his Father, and ask his Father if he’d keep him this way every day. While Gabriel is kind and wholesome, he’s also stoic, emotionally unavailable, and best admired from a safe distance of about ten miles.
I eye him warily.
“I would be more inclined to discuss Luna’s party if you obey me in a more instantaneous manner. Approach.” He puts more force into his words, and suddenly, approaching him is the only thing I ever wanted, so my feet practically carry me to him, while my head screams no. I don’t want to lust or hope or believe anything about Gabriel. He’s out of reach for mortals and angels alike. Gabriel is powerful, said to be able to manipulate his good brothers and Lucifer alike. Not to mention chaste.
There’s definitely something wrong with him asking me to approach, but I feel as if I have to put my hand in his so I can experience his touch. When our palms connect, it sets my loins on fire. Lust burns inside me, and the heat of it crawls up my neck and cheeks. I’m speechless as he hauls me up and spins me around, my back to his warm chest. He spreads his palm over my belly. I don’t dare move or even breathe, though my heart mirrors a rabbit’s, racing a mile a minute.
A male chuckle reverberates through my spine and zaps my clit, and I’m mortified because I know he knows how I feel about his fine hard body pressed against mine. Luckily for me, he’s a male who controls his lust, so he’s not hard between his legs.
We lift off, and I grab his hand over my middle, digging my fingernails into his skin. Oh my God, I’m flying, and my heart’s gonna burst out of my chest. I’m terrified and also a little excited, and lots confused.
Gabriel spreads his midnight-blue wings over the House’s grounds, where thousands of people lift their heads. I try to ignore the feeling that comes over me. The one that tells me Gabriel granted me special treatment. He didn’t. He loves all his staff. He also loves his students, especially those he’d rescued personally, those who believe in him and think of him as their hero. He’s more of a fatherly figure to us than…than boyfriend material, and I shouldn’t have these sinful thoughts about him.
Ms. Jailbait’s navy-blue suit paired with yellow boots one can see even from this distance comes into view as she walks toward my class. The second she makes it to the designated grassy area, I’m officially late, and she’s hurrying there to make me look even worse.
“Jailbait’s gonna fry me,” I groan.
Gabriel folds his wings.
I turn my head and look up, and he’s staring right at me. There’s warmth in his eyes, in his body, and I’m gonna overheat.
“Do you really believe you’re not gonna make it on time?” he asks.
“Um—” I scream as he flips us one hundred and eighty degrees and plunges headfirst toward the grass. Screaming myself hoarse, I close my eyes and pray Father will take away whatever crazy has possessed our holy Gabriel and deliver me from him in one piece. The angel flips us right-side up, and my belly lurches just before my feet touch the ground. At my ear, he whispers, “My wings are at your service any time you’re late.”
I snap open my eyes and practice, you know, some breathing after a mighty ordeal that’s been the past fifteen minutes of my life, then turn at the same time that Gabriel steps back. He folds his hands in front of him in his usual formal stance signaling “do not approach.” Only children are allowed to freely approach Gabriel because they don’t know better but those who do know better should keep that knowledge handy. He smiles, a wicked glint in his eyes.
I probably stand there gawking at him too long, because Ms. Jailbait’s annoying high-pitched whine pierces my thoughts. “Ms. Combs, you’re late.”
I turn and look at where we landed. On the sidewalk and not on the grass circle that indicates my classroom space. Yeah, she’d consider that late, but I don’t, so she’ll have to deal with it. Though maybe I could get detention duty inside Gabriel’s quarters, like his private bath space or bedroom or whatever. I’m not picky.
“Good morning, class,” I announce and walk right past Jailbait, since she set her sights on Gabriel anyway. In his presence, everyone else ceases to exist, so that’s good for me.
I take a seat on the teacher bench, where a class of eleven smiling seniors bids me good morning. Before we start, I can’t help but look over my shoulder.
“Gabriel, to what do we owe this pleasure?” Ms. Jailbait asks.
“I’m ensuring Ms. Combs makes it to class on time, but alas, I wasn’t fast enough.”
She clears her throat. “I assure you her lateness hasn’t gone unnoticed.”
“What do you propose we do about it?”
“A tardy on her file, of course.”
I gasp, embarrassed they’re discussing this in front of my students. The class giggles and whispers, and I’m humiliated. It’s all too easy to lose the respect of these kids. One minor mistake and they’ll hold on to it forever when I need them to believe in achieving greatness through hard work and punctuality. Gah, this is terrible.
“I was thinking something a bit more severe,” Gabriel says.
Oh, come on. What a dick. I dislike him now and will never think of him again. Lips pinched, I turn away from the pair and find my class staring at me all smiles and waggly eyebrows.
Mike winks. “Ms. Combs is in trouble with the big bad.”
The girls giggle.
“Maybe he’ll spank her,” Mary says.