“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.
So far, so good.
The best part was that he wasn’t directing her every move. She was free to go in whatever direction she chose.
And she chose this. Her thumbs hooked in the waistband of her scrubs and pushed them over her hips, then she stepped out of them. One corner of his mouth tilted, and when she chanced a glance down, she saw the spark of interest was holding steady. Okay, so it was more than a spark. Much, much more. The sight gave her a shot of confidence.
She could do this.
Measuring out another dose, her fingers plucked at the elastic band of her satin panties and she raised her eyebrows.
“Definitely.” His voice had dropped to a low growl.
Her cheeks heated, but she slid the underwear down, his eyes following her progress. Once off, her toes curled around the garment and nudged it towards the growing stack of clothes.
Now they were both naked. Both equal.
His arms opened up. “Come here.”
She moved back into the circle of his embrace and pressed her lips to his collarbone, adding a little bite like he’d done to her shoulder the last time they’d been together. A groan erupted from his chest when she moved over an inch and repeated the act, her tongue lapping over each spot. He tasted wonderful.
Brad’s hands went to her shoulders, kneading and stroking, his eyes closed as she made her way down his chest, licking beads of water from a masculine nipple as she went. His breath hissed through his teeth, fingers tightening on her for an instant or two before relaxing their grip, thumbs stroking the sides of her neck.
Lord, her body was already pulsing down below, and he hadn’t even touched her in any of those places yet. When he did...
She was going to go up in smoke.
Reaching his other nipple, she changed tactics, tightening her lips, her mouth tugging on it with slow, steady strokes.
“Hell, woman,” he ground out, one hand moving to fist in her hair, though whether to urge her to continue or pull her away she wasn’t sure...and didn’t really care. Because she was already on the move. Down his abdomen, following a thin, fascinating trail of hair.
The muscles of her stomach turned inside out, clenching and releasing, a terrible excitement building deep inside her.
The moment of truth.
She went down on her knees, the water on the floor of the shower warm and wet. Just like his skin. Just like between her legs. Closing her eyes, she kissed his thigh, his arousal brushing intimately along the side of her cheek as she drew her tongue in a slow arc up to his hip.
The hand in her hair tightened fractionally, drawing her back toward the middle.
“I want your mouth,” he whispered.
Chloe froze, familiar pressure crowding her chest, obstructing her throat.
She’d been planning to. And she wanted it. More than anything. She parted her lips and started to lean forward, but the past wouldn’t release its grip on her airway. Her breath came in terrifying gusts, her lungs sucking down every drop of oxygen they could find. Fear began to paralyze her body, shutting down one muscle group after another.
Her lids squeezed together. “I can’t.” A half-sob came out. “I can’t. I can’t.”
The second he let go of her hair, she lurched to her feet, forcing her legs to move.
Move, move, move.
She ran, her feet slipping once, before she regained her balance, her only goal: escape.
* * *
Brad caught her before she reached the door, damning himself to hell for his mistake. The second his arms wrapped around her waist, she broke into wrenching sobs that gutted him, branded him the worst kind of fiend. He’d been so caught up in the moment, in the exotic sensation of her lips brushing across his skin, that he’d forgotten she wasn’t like the women he normally went after. And Chloe had paid the price.
“Shh.” Still holding her, he lowered himself to the floor, ignoring the chill of the marble, until he had her cradled in his lap, her head pressed into his shoulder as she continued to cry. “It’s okay. God, Chloe, I’m sorry. I never should have...” He closed his eyes, his throat working against the flow of emotions.
What had he been thinking? He’d known all along he was not the right man for this job. He’d just proved himself right.
He kissed the top of her head as her sobs slowed, tightening his grip to make sure she didn’t try to run again, his hand stroking up and down her back. “Talk to me. Please.”
“I wanted to...but Travis...” Her voice cracked between words.
Something from one of their earlier conversations came to mind. The whole talk of being frigid, the affairs with other women. “What did he do, Chloe?”
She shook her head, avoiding his gaze.
“Tell me.” He forced his voice to remain soft, trying to coax it out of her.
“He m-made me do things.”
He blinked then, as her meaning took hold, raw fury rose in his chest filling his head. “He forced you?”
Her head tilted back and watery eyes met his. “No, he didn’t rape me. But he would tell me what he wanted, and then when I tried to do them...it hurt. Or...” she licked her lips “...I couldn’t breathe.”
Which explained exactly what had happened in the shower. What kind of bastard got his kicks from hurting someone like Chloe? “Why didn’t you tell someone or leave him?”
Her shoulders rose and fell. “I was convinced it was me. And our marriage was good in most other areas.” Her eyes closed. “At least, I thought it was. And I felt trapped, like there was no escape.”
Trapped. Just like he’d felt when locked in that closet as a child. Just like he felt now when any relationship started to go on for too long. And like Chloe, he’d never told anyone about what had happened...until Jason had asked about the padlock hanging open on the back door of his house. Locked doors still made him edgy, even today. Would it be the same for Chloe with sex?
He looked down into her eyes. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Ever. Do you understand me?”
“I wanted to. That’s just it. I wanted it to be good for you. I just...couldn’t.”
“Me being with you makes it good, Chloe. I get pleasure out of your pleasure.”
He watched as she digested