“You’re good at your job. The patients and the staff all like you. And I know I can work with you.” Another tug on her hair. “So please don’t compare me with my mother.”
“Sorry about that.” She smiled. “Jason told me what you had to deal with.”
His head tilted. “And what was that?”
Uh-oh. “He didn’t gossip about you, Brad. He just came home so angry one day I thought he was going to explode.”
“Angry at me?”
“No. At your parents.” She paused. “I pulled him into the backyard and pestered him until he finally let it slip.”
“Let what slip?”
“That your parents had padlocks on...” She swallowed. “That they used to lock you out of the house sometimes.” The words sounded horrific when said out loud, and Chloe immediately wished she could call them back.
She wasn’t about to admit what else she knew. That a teenage Brad—as tough and cynical as the best of them—had fought back tears as he’d told Jason what he’d endured. His parents hadn’t merely locked him out of the house—that had been during his later years. But when he’d been younger, his mother had routinely locked him in a closet in his bedroom whenever he’d done something she hadn’t liked. Jason had seen one of the locks and asked about them.
Brad hadn’t understood why his parents hadn’t loved him the way Chloe and Jason’s parents loved their kids. The way they loved him.
His motorcycle accident had happened a mere week after his confession. Chloe was pretty sure it hadn’t been a coincidence. She could remember her terror when she’d seen the damage to his face, his shredded T-shirt...bleeding arm.
Brad had gone very still at her words. Well, most of him, anyway. One small muscle in his cheek was tensing and releasing in a slow, methodical movement that held her captive. Made her mouth go dry.
For a second she thought he was going to withdraw his offer and get up and leave, but he didn’t. He sat there, without saying a word, until that muscle finally went still. “I don’t want to talk about my parents.”
“Okay.” She pulled in a breath, relief going through her. She was just as desperate to change the subject as he was. “What do you want to talk about?”
Her ponytail, which had gone slack over the last couple of minutes, went taut again with a couple of quick bumps, and she realized he’d wrapped it around his hand. He used it to tip her head back an inch or two.
“I don’t want to talk at all.”
The pupils in his eyes grew, turning black. With anger?
Maybe. But Brad wouldn’t hurt her. She knew that without a doubt. “What do you want to do, then?”
“Something your brother warned me not to.”
Panic started to skitter up her spine, coming face to face with a warm, lethargic wave of need that was traveling down it. The two battled for control of her central nervous system while her vocal cords acted of their own accord. “And what is that?”
“This.” Brad’s pupils swam before her eyes, until they came so close she could no longer see them. Then his mouth covered hers in a searing kiss.
SHE EXPECTED TO feel fear. There was none.
A man was using her hair to hold her prisoner—the way Travis used to do. Was devouring her mouth like he couldn’t get enough of her, and all she felt was elation.
That couldn’t be right.
Neither could the way her lips were pressing closer, parting to actually invite him in of their own accord instead of clamping shut to prevent the unwanted invasions of the past.
Because this was different.
Brad may have kissed her to shut her up, but she hadn’t realized until now how desperately she’d wanted to repeat that day at the park.
There was no mistaking this for flirtation, though. This kiss was all business. And she couldn’t get enough of it.
A small sound exited her throat. Her eyelids slammed shut as the whirling emotions caught her up in a funnel cloud, sweeping her along some unknown path. He let go of her ponytail, his hands going to either side of her face, thumbs lining the hollows beneath her cheekbones.
His tongue took her up on her invitation and she tensed for a second as it slid past her lips, but despite the desperation she sensed in his kiss he didn’t hurt her. Didn’t force his way in and cut the tender insides of her mouth with his teeth.
This was exploratory. Feeling his way. Brushing along her tongue. Licking the roof of her mouth. The backs of her teeth.
Some instinct had her tightening around him, forming a channel that guided him, squeezed him. Coaxed him to stroke her.
A low groan met her ears as he did just that.
He liked it.
Brad hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t given her a blow-by-blow list of instructions on what he wanted her to do. And yet—as his hand moved to cup the back of her neck and the friction of his tongue across hers set her on fire—she knew.
Her arms wound around his neck, grateful just to let herself feel for once—not have to do something someone else wanted.
Yet somehow she was. The confusion of it all tangled up inside her, but she let it. She could try to unravel it later. But right now...
Umm...
His lips left hers and trailed along her cheek, kissing each of her eyelids. She wanted him back where he’d been. Hadn’t finished kissing him yet. But even as she lifted her head to find his mouth again, he stayed on track with whatever he was doing. Kissing the tip of her nose. Her chin. Nudging it up so he could slide beneath it.
Okay, so she could kiss him again later. Because what he was doing right now was...was...
Fantastic.
The heat of his mouth continued down her throat then roamed back up the side of it until he reached her ear. And bit it gently.
A shiver went over her, the air rushing from her lungs in an audible sigh.
She wanted him everywhere at once. As soon as he left one place, she missed him. But, then, so did the next place he visited. Until she was a squirming mass of need, her whole body crying out for more.
Her nipples tightened, and instead of recoiling at the thought of his touch they were seething with anticipation.
She moved closer, frustrated at the angles that kept her from pressing fully against him.
As if he’d read her mind, he eased her down onto the wide couch until her head sank into the softness of the overstuffed arm.
Then they were body to body, one of his legs between hers, the hard ridge against her right thigh unmistakable.
She waited for the fear to finally make its way into the pit of her stomach, but his mouth was back at her ear. Whispering this time.
“You okay?”
The words took her by surprise. Made tears spring to her eyes.
Not once had Travis ever asked her that. Not even afterwards.
She nodded, her lips touching his face, then following the same path he’d taken on hers. But before she could complete the trip, he’d captured them with his own, his hand on the side of her neck, thumb stroking her throat as he kissed her.
These kisses were more familiar. The same light brushes she’d experienced at the park.
That wasn’t