by Tina Beckett
“Something funny?” Brad asked.
“Oh, um, no.” She glanced at her watch. Almost eleven. “I’m probably going to need to get back to the apartment, actually. I’m wiped.”
Yeah, last night had been long. Followed by a day that had had her emotions swinging from high to low. She really was tired.
“Me too,” said Layla.
Alex leaned back in his chair. “I’m going through your part of town. Can I give you a lift?”
Chloe saw the other woman’s teeth come down on her lip, and she looked torn. Finally she shook her head. “No, I’m good. I’m going to catch a cab and head right to bed.”
Alex’s jaw tightened but he didn’t argue. “Okay.” He glanced at Chloe and Brad. “How about you two?”
“I’ve got my bike.”
“Right.” He tossed a couple of bills on the table and stood. “See you tomorrow?”
The words were directed at Layla, who nodded. “Tomorrow.”
Giving Brad and Chloe a stiff nod, he headed out the door.
Layla’s eyes followed his exit, making Chloe’s heart ache for her friend. She reached over and caught her hand. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you? I could even sleep over if you want.”
Brad’s mouth murmured close to her ear, “Scared?”
His words may have been lost in the din around them but she heard it loud and clear. And the answer was a great big yes.
“I’ll be fine.” Layla squeezed her hand. “Thanks, though. And for tonight. I had a good time.”
So had Chloe, even after Brad and Alex’s unexpected appearance. Or maybe it was because of it. Something she didn’t want to spend too much time thinking about in case the answer wasn’t one she wanted to face.
Because despite what had happened between them last night, her days of living with Brad would soon come to an end, as would his part in her life—just like it had when she’d gotten married. It wouldn’t be any different just because they’d had sex. Brad had slept with lots of women and had walked away from all of them without a problem. She was just a face in a crowd.
Why, then, did the thought of becoming another discarded woman turn her soul to ice and her heart to lead?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“YOU WANT ME to what?” Brad couldn’t have heard her correctly.
Two days had passed since their fateful encounter. Followed by two nights of lying in bed. Alone. Knowing that the only thing separating them was a wall.
And a locked door. He hadn’t forgotten about her asking for the key. He’d noted the one she’d left in the bathroom door as well.
Surely sleep deprivation had affected his eardrums, along with his mind. And hers. Because this morning she was standing in his hallway, already dressed in her work scrubs, asking if he would teach her about sex.
She shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes. “I—It’s not a big deal, really. You know things.”
The way she spoke said it was a big deal. At least to her.
“Things.” Just having this discussion in calm rational tones seemed ludicrous somehow. Of course, Cade’s smirking image chose that very moment to waltz across his thoughts, reminding him of the whole flirting incident. Exactly how far would Chloe go to learn about these so-called “things”? Or who would she ask if he refused?
Hell, what was he going to do? Jason had called him yesterday to check on Chloe, and Brad had been short with him on the phone. It was none of his damn business what his sister did, but he didn’t want the wrath of the whole Jenkins clan coming down on his head either. “It’s not for ever. Just until I find my own place.”
He propped his shoulder against the door frame of his bedroom. “And just what kind of knowledge would this entail? Instructional or practical?”
Are you actually thinking about doing this, Davis? You’ve got to be out of your damned mind.
“Is there a difference?”
He crossed over to her, toying with the idea of scaring the living daylights out of her and making her see how dumb an idea this really was.
Only she’d planted the thought in his mind, and he couldn’t seem to banish it. He could have her in his bed, whenever and however he wanted. No guilt. No worrying about going through the romantic little formalities like dating.
Better yet, he could hear those sexy little whimpers she made when he stroked down her throat, kissed the shadow of her breast.
And that, my dear Chloe, is how you make a man hard without even touching him.
“There’s a big difference.” He planted his hands on the wall on either side of her head and stared down at her. “Instructional involves this …” He touched a finger to her temple and drew tiny circles. “Head knowledge.”
He moved in closer and slid his hands behind her until they’d curved over her delectable butt, pulling her tight against him. “Practical knowledge involves doing. Repeatedly.”
“Oh.” Wide blue eyes blinked up at him.
“Which will it be, Chloe?”
“P-practical.”
He leaned his head down until his lips grazed her cheek, drawing them across until he reached her ear. “Good answer.”
Hell, so much for scaring her. He’d just sealed the deal. Well, almost. There was just one more thing.
“We need some ground rules,” he whispered, the scent of her filling him with something that had to be pure lust.
“Ground rules?” She seemed dazed, tilting her head closer to his mouth. Good. That’s just how he wanted her. Off balance. Willing.
He gave a soft laugh. “Surely you don’t think I’m going to agree to your crazy plan without thinking this through?”
“I suppose not. If you don’t want to …”
“Oh, I want to. Make no mistake about that.” One hand released her butt and found her ponytail and used it to tilt her head up. “And if I didn’t have to be at work in less than half an hour. I’d show you exactly how much.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. ‘Oh.’” He bent down and planted a hard kiss on her mouth, which quickly spun out of control. The scent of the jasmine soap she’d put in his shower filled his lungs, and he sucked it down greedily. Yes, he was crazy. Was a fool for going along with this, but what the hell? He’d done all kinds of stupid things during his life and had lived to tell the tale.
Still kissing her, he pulled her closer, letting his body’s reaction speak for itself. He needed her to know exactly what this meant. He was going to have her. Tonight.
And she’d see exactly the kind of practical knowledge he had in mind.
When he came up for air and looked down at her, he relished the way her clear blue eyes had darkened, the outer ring no longer distinguishable from the lighter center. It seemed she was serious about wanting this.
And he was shocked to find that he wanted it just as much as she did. He’d toyed with the idea of extending their time together, and she’d just given him all the ammunition he needed—had made it easy. Too easy. And that set a little warning bell off in the back of his mind. But for now he would ignore it. Chloe had come to him for help. And he wasn’t about to turn her away.
“Are there still going to be ground rules?” Her voice had gone all breathy and feminine and hell if it didn’t make him want her that much more.
“Definitely.”
“Like what?”
“You’ll sleep in my bed.”
“Every night? Even when we’re not …”
He nipped her lips. “Even then.”
Why had he just made that a condition of their arrangement? Practicality. When he wanted her, he could just roll over and have her.
“What else?”
“No other men between lessons.”
This time she frowned. “Of course not.” She leaned her head back. “Were you planning on having other women?”
His brows contracted. Did she really think he would? “No.”
His fingers closed over her hips, feeling a possessiveness that startled hi
m. No, not possessiveness. It was protectiveness. It had to be. He didn’t want her to wind up with another bastard like Travis.
Right. And that’s exactly what he’d tell Jason: he was sleeping with his sister to protect her.
That was sure to get him a fist to the face … maybe two.
And would Jason be wrong? Probably not.
He let her go and took a step back, dragging a hand through his hair. Time to get real. “Are you sure about this?”
Chloe blinked at him then gave him a slow smile that made his stomach flip, made him want to reach for her all over again. “More than sure. I want you to teach me everything you know.”
Teach me everything you know.
Chloe rolled her eyes as she adjusted the blood-pressure cuff on her next patient. Had she really said that to him?
That wasn’t what she wanted. Not really. She’d had a husband who’d tried to teach her everything he knew, and it had been the worst six years of her life.
No, what she wanted was for Brad to teach her about her own body. Teach her how it felt to be loved. Really loved. Teach her how to ask for what she wanted.
She smiled as the blood-pressure cuff deflated on their twin-to-twin transfusion patient. “One twenty over seventy. That’s ideal.”
Sitting on a stool, she noted the woman’s weight and other vital information. “So how are the babies doing?” Cade’s nimble fingers seemed to have worked a miracle.
“My obstetrician thinks both twins have stabilized but wants me to meet with the surgeon to make sure everything’s progressing well.”
The words “progressing well” struck a nerve. Her own situation with Brad seemed to have turned some kind of corner, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it any more.
Immersing herself in her work seemed to be the only thing keeping her sane at the moment. The more patients she saw, the less chance she had to think about tonight. About what was going to happen. Brad had made it clear he wanted her. The sooner, the better.
It’s what she wanted as well, right? Somehow, though, she’d expected him to balk at the idea. Or at least put up some kind of token argument. Instead, he’d dragged her against him with the talk of ground rules and wanting to start immediately.
He could have any number of women who were infinitely more experienced than she was. And yet he was agreeing to sleep with her in what she’d come to see as a cold-blooded arrangement that she’d been stupid to even suggest.
So why did he seem so eager?
She wasn’t that beautiful. Men didn’t swoon at the sight of her. So what was he getting out of it?
Maybe he pitied her. Was trying to help out the next poor sucker who got involved with her.
That explanation didn’t seem to fit either, although that could just be because she was too mortified to think it might be true.
Swiveling her attention back to her patient, she nodded at the gown on the end of the bed. “Our fashion designer is dying for you to try out her latest creation. While you’re getting dressed, I’ll page Dr. Coleman and let him know you’re here.” She squeezed the woman’s shoulder. “We’re all pulling for those little ones.”
“Thank you. They’ve got a lot of family and friends praying for them too.”
“I’m glad.” She picked up the chart and headed for the door. “See you in a few minutes.”
Chloe went to the nurses’ station to call Cade. Before she could do that, he appeared in the flesh. “Clara Serrano is here.” She handed him the chart.
“Everything look okay with her?”
“Her vitals are all normal. She’s feeling movement from at least one of the fetuses. Dr. Morris wants to see if the size ratio has changed at all.”
“Sounds good. I’ll take a look.” He tapped the counter with the chart. “Have you seen Dr. Davis, by any chance?”
She had. Quite well, actually. But that’s not what Cade was asking. “I haven’t seen him since this morning.” Not since he’d dropped her off at the hospital entrance and then revved up his bike and rounded the corner on his way to the parking garage. He hadn’t touched her as she’d unsnapped her helmet and shaken her hair loose, but his smoldering look had spoken volumes. She was getting some tonight.
The thought made the corners of her lips curve much higher than they should have.
Cade evidently thought so too, because his brows went up and he leaned his elbows on the desk, bringing him a little closer. “Very nice. Is that smile for me?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.” The low voice came from beside them, making Chloe jerk to attention and spin to face it.
Brad. And although his tone was calm and reasonable, his expression was anything but. Narrow-eyed, with lips in a tight hard line, he studied her face—from which her smile was now gone.
Cade, on the other hand, straightened. “Is it against hospital policy to comment on someone’s pretty smile?”
“I’d prefer that you both do your jobs instead.”
A thread of anger ran up her spine, replacing the warm anticipation of a few seconds ago. “I think we both were. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and check on one of my other patients.”
She stalked toward the nearest room, having no idea which patient it belonged to. All she knew was that her irritation was out of proportion to the situation. But if Brad thought he could use their little agreement to his advantage at work, he was going to find out he was dead wrong.
A hand on her arm stopped her before she made it halfway to the door. She came to a halt, already knowing who it was but unable to bring herself to look at him. Not with the way her chin and everything inside her was trembling.
“Hey, hold up a second.” He turned her round. “Sorry to step on your toes, but I don’t trust the guy. Something’s going on with him.”
“He was just trying to be nice.”
His gaze trailed over her face, stopping at her lips. “Maybe I’m afraid he’ll make a move on you.”
“And if he did? I’d think you’d be glad.”
His palms slid down her arms, creases forming between his brows. “And why would you think that?”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, not wanting anyone to hear what she was about to say. “Poor little Chloe needs a tutor. Who wants to be stuck with that kind of duty?”
Certainly not her ex, who’d made his exasperation plain.
The corners of Brad’s eyes crinkled as he continued to look at her. “You make it sound like a death sentence.”
Chloe shrugged. “You said it, not me.”
There was a pause, then his fingertips stroked across her cheek. “You’re a beautiful, sexy woman. Any red-blooded man would give his right arm to be in my position. Even Coleman. It’s why I don’t want him hanging around you.”
“He’s not hanging around me.”
“Maybe he’d like to.”
Chloe tried to decipher his meaning. “And that would bother you.”
His eyes darkened, his smile fading. “Oh, yeah. It would bother me a whole lot. Because you’re all mine. At least for now.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE BATHROOM DOOR wasn’t locked.
As strange as she found his aversion to keys, in this instance it suited her purposes. Brad had said he was going to take a shower, and Chloe had stood there undecided. Her irritation about the scene at the hospital had faded, and anticipation had wormed its way back into her head.
Should she wait for him to get the ball rolling or try to hurry things along? Their last time together had been all about her—he’d seen to her every need. Maybe this time she could return the favor. After all, she knew the mechanics of it. And instead of waiting for Brad to ask for what he wanted—something she’d never had to worry about with Travis, because he always had—she could beat him to the punch.
Maybe this way she wouldn’t feel like a receptacle—there to be used at someone else’s convenience—like she had during her marriage.
She eased the door opened and slid inside, the dense moist fog from the shower enveloping her. The clean scent of shampoo filled her senses, and she relaxed, a smile working its way up from her chest.
Things were about to get interesting.
Pulling a towel off the rack beside the door, she padded over to the shower on bare feet and set the towel down on a nearby stool. She paused at the curved entryway that led to the interior of the stall and tried to plan her first move. Before she had a chance to do anything, a hand reached round the corner and snagged her wrist, hauling her through jets of water—which came at her from all angles—until she smacked into a bare, muscular chest.
She screeched as the warm spray continued to pelt her hair and her scrubs, plastering them to her body.
“What are you doing?” she spluttered. “How did you even know I was out there?”
“I have my ways.” He reached around her and adjusted the spray until it was less cyclonic and more mist-like.
“You do? That sounds a little scary.” She laughed to cover up the fact that she was only half kidding.
“Does it?” He leaned against the tiled wall and pulled her between his splayed legs, his already stiffening flesh pressing into her belly. He seemed unfazed by the fact that she still had all her clothes on. She, on the other hand, was aware of every inch of his nakedness.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“It should.” His hand slid into the wet locks of her hair and held her in place as he kissed her, before going to the bottom of her shirt, hauling it over her head and dropping it onto the black marble floor next to him.
She swallowed. Here it was, the test of her mettle. It was one thing to get carried away like they had on the couch a few nights ago and let things go further than she’d meant them to. It was another thing entirely to sneak into a bathroom intent on doing unto him as he had done unto her.
Only he’d turned the tables on her. Again.
Time to turn them back her way.
She took a step backwards, forcing herself to maintain eye contact as her fingers found her bra clasp and released it, feigning nonchalance as she tossed the garment on top of her shirt. She was rewarded by the darkening of his pupils as they slid over what she’d revealed.