Diavolo Ch. 07

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And now into the fire...
8.7k words
4.77
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Part 7 of the 17 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 01/21/2015
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Abigail's head was pounding when she finally blinked her eyes open. The air conditioning blew softly and a seagull squawked far off outside somewhere. Subdued lighting peeked through the slits of the closed blinds over the glass doors of her room.

Abigail sat up slowly, frowning at a glass of orange juice and a couple of aspirin on her nightstand. There was a note propped up against the lamp, which read HANGOVER REMEDY.

She frowned further when she realized she wore nothing but her panties beneath the covers.

Panic seized her as she remembered telling-no-DEMANDING Gabriel make love to her.

Oh-God! What had she done? She'd decided to trust Gabriel and sleep with him last night. Drinking had loosened her up enough to want more. Hugging herself, guilt weighed heavily within her. She'd sinned terribly.

She scowled at the pills, head pounding like a monster inside her skull. No pills. It was a pithy penance for what she'd invited, reveling in carnal immorality with Gabriel. The worst was, she had no recollection of it. Yes. That was certainly the worst part.

With a whimper, she rose and performed her morning ablutions in the adjacent bathroom. Her skin was pasty white and circles appeared under her eyes. Afterwards, she pulled her hair into a mercilessly tight bun. Black was the color for today. A black long-sleeved maxi with a high-buttoned neck.

Pushing her glasses up her nose, she trudged barefoot up the stairs and froze on the top landing.

Gabriel lay on an inflatable queen-sized mattress behind the couch. The white sheets were tangled around his left leg and just barely covering his groin. His entire right leg, hip, and torso was bare. He had a pink scar on his right hip and a few bruise marks on his arms, probably where the IV's had been. His brows were pinched together, his left arm tossed over his head, lips parted. A soft groan escaped him and his lashes fluttered over his cheeks. He was still asleep, and looked like he was in pain.

Abigail's hand came over her heart as hope soared. They couldn't have done anything the night before. He was still recuperating from a broken leg and ribs. But, who could have stripped her and put her to bed?

Michael strode in with Erica behind him. He carried a large carafe of coffee, and Erica carried two plastic grocery bags filled with goodies.

Michael frowned at Abigail. "You look awful. Did you take the pills I left on the nightstand?"

Erica beamed at her. "I'll just put these in the kitchen."

Abigail just gaped. Michael had put the pills and juice on the nightstand? Had he undressed her? Her face heated to a million degrees.

He looked at her funny. "What?"

Abigail fiddled with the buttons on her dress. Gabriel chose that moment to let out a long distressed groan followed by a hissed expletive.

Michael set the coffee down and grabbed a bottle of pills that sat on the counter.

"Ease up, old man. I'm coming," Michael huffed.

After filling a glass with more juice from the fridge, he strode out to the living room and squatted down beside Gabe, who was rising up on his elbows with a grimace.

Michael popped two pills into his mouth and tipped the glass to his lips.

Gabriel swallowed, and when done scowled at Abigail.

"H-hi," she whispered.

Green eyes narrowed.

Michael strode back into the kitchen. "Let me whip something up quick and I'll get back to you, Gabe."

"No," Abigail blurted. "I'll make breakfast. You can tend to him." Put some clothes on him—she thought.

Erica had made herself at home on one of the stools, busy with a small gaming device. When Abigail volunteered to make breakfast, she looked up with a pout, eyes big as saucers. "Ooh, maybe I should help too."

Michael's brows shot up. "Maybe not. Last time you tried to help in the kitchen the microwave caught fire."

Erica gave him a bored roll of the eyes as she slid from her stool. "The popcorn box said to microwave at high for two minutes. It didn't say anything about removing the package from the box."

Abigail's hands paused over the carton of eggs she was about to grab to stare at the other couple. Michael just gave her a shrug and proceeded to turn back to Gabriel.

Not wanting to see Gabriel naked, she busied herself scrambling eggs and chopping peppers, onions and tomatoes for her omelet. Erica made toast. At least she tried. Abigail had to run to release the lever on the toaster when the scent of burned bread began to permeate the kitchen. Erica had excused herself to go to the bathroom and hadn't returned.

Abigail frowned when she saw the toasting control had been turned up to maximum. Then, she had to run back to the skillet to turn her omelet over before it burned too.

Minutes later, as she arranged plates on the table in front of the glass doors to the balcony, she heard the familiar sound of Gabe's crutches thumping on the wooden floor, drawing closer.

Michael had taken him to the bathroom by the kitchen. She'd heard the shower running until a few minutes ago.

Abigail had set up a covered platter with the omelet as well as another two with the toast and some fruit and cheeses she'd diced up.

"Hope the coffee hasn't gone cold. Where's Erica?" Michael was saying.

"She said she needed to use the bathroom," Abigail answered turning toward the stairs, wondering which one she'd disappeared into. The house had four bathrooms.

Gabriel smelled of fresh soap and shampoo. He wore a pair of black, drawstring, cotton pants that hung off his hips enticingly. His wet hair was brushed back behind his ears. In the reflection she could see it reached just between his shoulder blades.

Michael shrugged and grinned at Abigail as he pulled out a chair for Gabriel. "Well, It'll be nice to eat something someone else cooked and have company for a change."

He also pulled out a chair for her and she sat, wondering at his words. "Erica's not very inclined toward the kitchen?" she asked with a polite smile.

Michael snorted and said nothing more as he served first her and then Gabriel some of the omelet.

Gabriel stared at his plate and sniffed. He looked intently at her as she spread some butter on toast and slid it onto his plate.

"Wow," Michael laughed. "You made a feast here, Abs. I'm jealous, Gabe."

He put fruit and cheese on the small dishes Abigail had placed by their plates and gave it to Gabe who was furthest away from it.

Gabriel frowned as he cut into the omelet slowly. Abigail waited with bated breath as he speared the first bite. Michael groaning lewdly had them both looking at him. The huge guitarist had his eyes closed, jaw moving slowly from side to side as he chewed.

"God, this tastes good," he moaned.

His golden eyes opened as he licked his lips and shook his head. "You've got to give me the recipe, Abs."

"Uh, sure," she replied as he took another bigger bite.

Her gaze slid to Gabriel who still watched his band mate, a little wrinkle between his perfectly arched brows.

He finally popped the morsel of egg into his mouth and began chewing also.

Abigail tried not to giggle at his expression. He looked shocked and stuffed some more egg into his mouth.

Abigail wasn't sure how much the men would eat, so she'd made the entire carton of eggs, twelve eggs in total. Except for the piece she was still nibbling at, they pretty much cleared out the platter, fighting over the last piece.

"She can make it for you whenever, man. Have some pity on me."

"Go get your own female to cook for you."

"Ha! Yeah-right!'

"I can make some more," Abigail said sliding her chair back.

Gabriel closed his fist over her hand. "No, baby. Finish your breakfast."

"Fine," Michael huffed unhappily. "You take it then."

"You're too fat anyway, Mike. You should be grateful," Gabriel snickered.

Abigail gasped, leveling Gabe with an admonishing glare. "That's not a nice thing to say to your friend."

Michael snorted. "I'm not fat. I'm fluffy."

Abigail looked at Michael. No. He wasn't fat at all. He was just built like a tank, wide shoulders, bulging chest, thick neck, and huge muscular arms. His golden eyes were sharp and mannerisms gentle. Abigail had grown a soft spot for him, until she remembered him saying he'd left the aspirin on the nightstand for her and that she'd been clad only in her panties when she'd woken up. Gabriel couldn't have gone down those stairs on his crutches, much less undressed her. Had it been Erica? She was too embarrassed to ask.

As if sensing her thoughts, Michael gave her a huge grin, wolfish eyes glinting.

*******

Gabriel wasn't liking the way she kept staring at Mike and blushing. What the fuck was going on there? Mike telling him he was jealous did nothing to soothe his damned possessive streak either.

Christ, the woman made a mean omelet. Might be the only thing she knew how to make, but Gabriel was hooked good and solid.

"Well, Erica hasn't eaten yet and there's no more left. I might as well make more anyway."

Michael patted his lips with the dark blue napkin she'd put out and rose. "Don't worry about Erica. She's most likely back home and forgot all about breakfast."

Something sad and lonely passed through his eyes, but it was gone in the blink of an eye.

"Guess I'll leave you two alone and head back home before her highness realizes I'm still gone."

With that, he sauntered out through the balcony doors.

Warm salty air blew in from outside. Gabriel observed Abigail.

She fidgeted with her fork. "You don't suppose the owner of this house would mind you staying here like you did last night?"

Gabriel glared at her. "You invited me."

Her eyes went wide, one brow arched. "I did?"

Okay. She didn't, but that was beside the point. "You said you wanted to sleep with me."

She stood abruptly, grabbing Michael's plate as well as her own. "Gonna clean up now. Want more coffee or juice?"

Gabriel gripped her wrist making the dishes rattle. "You said you wanted me to make love to you."

Abigail's face flushed crimson. She swallowed hard before looking at him from the corner of her eye. "Did we?" she squeaked.

Gabriel clenched his teeth, remembering the way she'd practically crawled all over him on the drive to Bayside. He'd sat in the back of Mike's van while she'd stroked her tongue everywhere on him and caressed his upper body until it was all he could do to not dry hump against her.

Mike had helped him undress and had laughed his ass off at Gabe's pitiful condition afterwards. Only the certainty that Mike was likely not getting anything either that night stopped him from punching his guitarist in the face.

Abigail was already hyperventilating. She had no idea what had transpired the night before, which pissed Gabriel even more. He'd suffered all night with a case of blue balls while she'd slept in drunken bliss in the downstairs bedroom.

"We didn't do anything, Abigail. The only way we can have sex is if you mount me and you were passed out by the time we got here."

She closed her eyes with a long huff of apparent relief. He released her hand as if she'd burned him and turned his angry gaze to the glass doors.

She set the plates back down on the table and sat slowly.

"Why do you look so angry?" she asked softly. "I'm sorry I said what I said. I wasn't thinking straight—"

"Of course you weren't," he muttered.

He needed to back off. He was pressuring too much. Poor girl had zilch in the experience department. Hell, she'd been cloistered in a convent a little over a month ago. An evil voice in his head laughed and reminded him that she'd been ready to marry Daniel and give him her innocence instead; Daniel of the clean-cut haircut and impeccable suits.

"Gabe, who put me to bed?"

He pursed his lips, still not wanting to look at her, his annoyance was so fierce. "Mike.'

He noticed her wince and had to turn. Her hands were folded on her lap and her face was beet red again.

Rage boiled up his spine until it filled his head with pure fire. "Michael carried you downstairs. Why do you ask?' he said outwardly calm.

Well, his voice sounded calm. Obviously Abigail was seeing something quite terrifying in his face because she bit her lips, eyes wide as she gulped audibly.

He took a deep breath, trying to push images of Michael probably having touched or kissed her out of his head. Even though she looked like a nun right now with her long black dress, hair tight behind her head and big, black-framed glasses, Abigail was pure temptation with her lush lips and big innocent blue eyes. He wanted to toss her up on the piano and eat her out and then fuck her silly.

His cell phone ringing had him scowling at it. The number was his granma's so he answered it right away.

"Bendición, mamá," he said.

He winced and frowned at the barked out "where are you?"

"Diamond?"

Abigail jolted up and got away to the kitchen before he could stop her.

"I'm at Anna Maria's house and she doesn't know where you are."

Gabriel had left a note and was sure his grandmother had seen it. Grateful she still hadn't revealed to Diamond where his secret beach house was, he replied, "is there a problem, Diamond?"

She sputtered a moment before huffing. "Can't you tell me where you are? Are you in that girl's house?"

Gabriel did not like how she spat the word girl.

"Yeah, I'm with Abigail. There a problem?" he spat back.

There was heavy breathing over the line. "Gabriel, you should be resting in your home. I hope you didn't do anything to set back your recovery," she said in a sugary sweet tone.

It sounded so fake, Gabriel curled his lip in annoyance. Whether or not he'd fucked Abs was none of her business.

"Yeah, Di. I'm actually gonna need a sling for my dick." Partially true because it still ached from disuse.

He heard her gasp of outrage and had to smirk.

"The band's been idle for a month, Gabe. That's not good," she replied now icily.

"What do you want me to do, Di? It's not my fault someone tried to fuck me over."

She was silent for a while. "What have you remembered about that night, Gabe? That's important you know."

Gabriel thought. "I was listening to music over the headset in the helmet. There was a car behind me. I don't know. Maybe two."

He hadn't thought anything at first until one of them had gotten so close, he could feel the heat from the radiator on his back. He'd crossed lanes, moving to the right, and then he'd taken the curve just past El Morro Canyon road.

"It was an SUV. A black one."

Diamond tittered on the line. "Gabe, almost everyone on the west coast owns a black SUV. Do you remember the make or model?"

Gabriel thought. "A Merc?" His memory was foggy. "I'm not sure."

"Did you get a look at the driver?"

"Tinted windows," he replied. "How did you get there so fast? Cops said they contacted you and you got there before the helicopter?"

Diamond lived in LA, which wasn't exactly a skip and a hop down to Newport Bay.

"I was staying at a friend's house," she sniffed.

Gabe grunted, really not interested in her story. Besides, Abigail's phone was going off too.

"Look, Di, gotta go now. Feels like my meds are wearing off and I need some more painkillers. Leg is starting to bother again and that shit makes me sleepy as fuck."

"Be careful with those pills, Gabe. Wouldn't want to see you in rehab with a drug problem."

Gabriel wrinkled his nose. "Don't worry. I'm just taking them like the doctor prescribed."

Abigail was having a heated argument in the kitchen. Without waiting to hear Diamond's reply he clicked the call off. Thankfully, Michael had remembered to leave his crutches nearby. Maneuvering himself onto them wasn't easy, but he managed to do it without falling on his face, and hobbled over into the kitchen.

"Mikayla, I told you a million times, I cannot tell you where I am."

Gabriel came up behind her, trapping her against the counter. She stiffened when he brought his mouth to her neck and nibbled.

A moan escaped her and he heard when Mikayla stopped her insulting rant.

"I'm in pain, baby," Gabe growled in her ear.

Abigail let the phone clatter to the counter as she turned her head to gape at him, pupils dilated wide. "Your meds. Didn't Michael give them to you this morning?"

Her voice came out throaty despite the look of concern on her pretty face.

"Not the kind of pain I'm in," he said nipping his way across her jaw.

"G-Gabriel," she pleaded shakily.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Mikayla's screeched. "You stupid little slut. He's just use—"

Gabriel pushed the phone over the edge of the counter where it fell in obvious pieces on the other side judging from the noise.

He winced when he thrust his hips against her backside, a dull throb warning him not to push his limits.

She gripped the edge of the counter and shrugged her shoulders to keep him from continuing his sensual onslaught.

"G-Gabriel, stop."

"That wasn't what you were telling me last night," he growled, nipping her shoulder now, letting more of his weight press her forward. He nestled his arousal against the seam of her heart-shaped ass.

"I'm sorry. I was drunk. I should have had more sense," she said in a rush. "I just wanted to sleep with you and tried to find a bit of courage in the alcohol, but..."

She trailed off, her head hanging shamefully. It hurt. Felt like an outright rejection, but he knew she had her prim archaic morals and wasn't about to push her to do something she'd regret later. That's not how he wanted their first time to be.

It was frustrating. He felt frustrated, not accustomed to having to wait, being held at arm's length.

"This is a whole new thing for me, Abs. Understand that. I respect where you're coming from, though I don't understand or agree, but I respect it."

He backed off, giving her enough space to turn and gaze up at him meekly.

The dress she wore was awful. He hated it, too somber and covered up for her.

"What are you used to, Gabriel?" she asked, her eyes focused on a spot in the middle of his chest.

Gabriel bit his lip. He was used to fast and easy. Since high school, maybe before that, the girls would come after him. He didn't need to be a jock or have an important dad like the other kids at the prissy private schools his grandmother made him attend. Gabe looked dangerous and rebellious, though he'd been far from it. The girls like dangerous and rebellious. Liked knowing they were messing around with something utterly forbidden by their parents. It was a turn on. He'd spend hours at Ariel's place watching porn on the web, learning how to make a girl come exquisitely. Before he'd actually had the nerve to penetrate his first pussy, he'd been a master at fingering and using his mouth to make them squeal.

Abigail waited for his answer, pain in her eyes.

"I just want you, Abby. If I have to wait," he shrugged, "I'll wait."

She licked her lips, her cheeks going a little pink now. "But I already told you. I can't—"

He kissed her then. Swooped down and covered her sweet mouth with his to keep from begging her to marry him. Not yet, damn-it. It was too soon. He was thinking with his dick not with his head. His heart was still trying to resist, fearful of getting hurt. She'd supposedly loved Daniel not that long ago. What if she still pined away for him? He was not marrying a woman who'd think of another man when he finally bedded her. Just thinking about it now made him want to break something.

"Ouch,' she gasped rearing back away from his rough kiss.

Her lips were red and swollen.

Reaching up, he gripped her jaw with one hand. "Why did you ask me who put you to bed?" he snapped.

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped, face going first white and then scarlet.

"Fuck, Abigail. Don't lie to me. What happened?"

"N-nothing, I swear," she replied in a squeaky voice.