“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 him. 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