shirt. He pulled it off and removed his T-shirt, exposing his tattoo and the light dusting of dark hair on his muscled chest.
Julia watched as he hung his shirt on a hook before his hands went to his belt. He smirked as he slowed his movements, teasing her.
She rolled her eyes. “The bathwater will be cold by the time you finish.”
“I doubt it. I certainly won’t be standing out here when I finish.”
“Why not?”
“Because I intend to finish inside you.”
With a smirk, he hung up his trousers before divesting himself of his boxers.
Julia knew her husband’s body well, but even so, his figure always took her breath away. He had wide shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist and hips, which framed muscular thighs. His arms, along with his abdominals, were well defined, as was the V that sloped to his all-too-prominent sex.
“It kills me when you look at me like that.” His eyes fixed hers hungrily.
“Why?” She stared at him shamelessly, moving forward in the bathtub to make room for him.
“Because you look as if you want to lick me. All over.”
“I do.”
In a flash, Gabriel settled behind her, wrapping his long legs around hers. “That scent is familiar.”
“I bought the bubble bath because it reminded me of the massage oil you used in Florence. You rubbed my back, remember?”
“As I recall, I rubbed more than that.” Gabriel nuzzled her ear with his nose. “You have no idea what that scent does to me.”
“Oh yes, I do.” Julia rested against his chest, feeling him hard against her lower back.
“Before we move on to—ah—other activities, I’d like you to talk to me.”
“About what?” Julia tensed.
He placed his hands on either side of her neck and began to massage her.
“Relax. I’m not the enemy. I’m simply trying to persuade you to confide in me a little. You tend to take bubble baths when you’re stressed. And you’ve been taking them daily.”
“I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Tell me.”
She used her left hand to skim the surface of the water, pushing the suds back and forth.
“I worry about grad school and flunking out. I worry about my lecture.”
He squeezed her shoulders.
“We’ve spoken about your lecture and I gave you my honest opinion— it’s good. You aren’t going to flunk out of your program. You just have to take grad school one semester at a time. You don’t have to entertain our relatives this week. Tomorrow, we’ll announce that you’re spending the day working on your paper. They’ll entertain themselves during the day, and tomorrow night I’ll grill steaks for dinner. I’m sure Rachel and Tammy will pitch in.”
Julia’s muscles began to soften under his fingers. “That would help. Thank you.”
“I’d do anything for you,” he whispered, pressing his lips against her neck. “You know that, don’t you?”
“I do.” She turned and kissed him earnestly.
When they broke apart, she smiled. “You’ll have your birthday when we’re in Italy. How would you like to celebrate it?”
“With you. In bed. For a couple of days.” He spread his arms around her waist, stroking the skin around her navel.
“Would you like to invite people to join us in Umbria? They could come with us to the exhibition in Florence.”
“No, I want you all to myself. We can invite them to Cambridge for your birthday.”
Julia placed her hand over his, stopping his movements. “I don’t like making a big deal about my birthday.”
He leaned back. “I thought we were past that.”
“We’ll be busy in September.”
“Twenty-five is a milestone birthday.”
“So is thirty-five.”
“My milestones are only important because of you. Without you, they’d be empty days.”
Julia buried her face in his chest. “Do you have to be so sweet?”
“Since I’ve eaten sour for most of my life, yes.” With his mouth, he explored the curve of her neck and the soap-slicked skin of her shoulders.
“Then I guess we’re having a party in September. We should celebrate Labor Day weekend.” She kissed his pectorals before facing forward once again. “What did Richard say when you spoke to him tonight?”
“He’d like to move back, but he doesn’t want to buy the house. I think he was counting on the money for his retirement.”
“He can live here without buying it. You don’t care, do you?”
“Not at all. I’d rather he lived here. But he feels badly about taking advantage of the renovations.”
“Now he can enjoy them. The only problem is what to do with the furniture. There’s no room for it back in Cambridge.”
“We could give it to Tom. His furnishings