NYC Angels Flirting with Danger

chapter FOURTEEN



IT BURNED.

His touch. His lips. His body—even through his clothes. And Chloe was slowly going up in flames.

She’d never gotten this far before without tensing, without dreading what she knew was coming next. But Brad’s fingers had edged beneath the hem of her shirt with care, sliding over the bare skin of her stomach until she found herself arching toward him rather than cringing away inside. He’d spent what had seemed like hours just getting to this point. As if there were nowhere else he’d rather be.

Lips touched her. Skated over her collarbone just as his hand covered her left breast, using the barest amount of friction. She pushed into his palm, asking silently for more. He responded with an equal amount of pressure in return.

He was right. She didn’t need words.

And neither did he, evidently. His actions spoke volumes.

He cared about how she felt. About what she wanted. Something about that was freeing. Made her realize that Travis had been all wrong about her. She was able to respond. Just not to him.

Chloe pulled in a deep breath to increase the contact, wanting something but not sure what it was. When he kissed the corner of her mouth and stayed there while he trapped her nipple between his fingertips, a whimper erupted from her throat.

That’s what she’d wanted. He’d known.

His breath released on a shaky note. “You’re driving me crazy, you know.”

She was driving him crazy? He didn’t know the half of it. She was so far over the edge she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to make it back in one piece.

Turning her head, she captured his mouth, letting him know the feeling was mutual. He deepened the kiss, his tongue finding hers and coaxing it to follow his, until she found herself where she’d never thought she’d be. He tasted of wine and all things male, and she slid her tongue in a little bit further. He rewarded her by stroking the pad of his thumb across her imprisoned nipple.

The pleasure intensified, along with her desire to take things to the next level. She’d never craved the male and female joining the way she did now. It reminded her of the expectations she’d had when she’d been young and naïve. Before they’d been shattered by reality.

But Brad was making her hope all over again.

Even through her bra the pleasure had been intense, but the second he pushed the fabric aside and the contact was flesh against flesh, she grabbed hold of his arms, hanging on for dear life.

Brad froze, and she wasn’t sure what was wrong for a second then remembered their signal. He really would stop.

The second she asked.

Instead of pushing him away, she pulled him closer, her arms going around his back, one hand brave enough to slide over the curve of his butt and press her thigh against the bulge of flesh.

“Slow, Chloe.”

His words said one thing but his body said something else. She hadn’t had to touch him to get him hard. In fact, it seemed to be the other way around. The more he stroked and kissed her, the more aroused he seemed to get.

And suddenly she didn’t want slow.

To illustrate that point, she allowed her hand to trail around to the front of his body, her fingers tracing his length, only to have him stop her.

Heat crawled up her face as remembered humiliation curled around her throat, strangling her. She never seemed to get it right.

“What’s wrong?” His whispered words just made it worse.

“I don’t know what you want.”

“Don’t you? I want you.”

The words were simple enough, but if he did, why didn’t he want her to …?

“If you touch me, Chloe. I’m done for.” He paused. “Just let me love you.”

The pained smile told her exactly what he meant, and it had nothing to do with her being inept but the opposite. He wanted her so badly that one wrong move on her part could make him come unglued.

For the next fifteen minutes he proceeded to show her with his lips, with his tongue what she’d never realized she’d been missing out on over the years. By the time his fingers finally tunneled beneath the elastic waistband of her scrubs, and then beneath that of her panties, she was shaking with anticipation. Would he rip them off her and take her in a rush?

She wanted him to. Badly.

But he didn’t. Instead, his fingers found her. She wasn’t even horrified to realize she was slick. All she felt was wonder when he lazily explored every inch of her, moistening his fingers and sliding them over the most sensitive spot on her body.

The world stopped turning as the focus narrowed, zooming in over and over again until everything centered over that one point in the universe. His thumb continued to stroke over her while his middle finger slid inside her without the slightest hint of resistance.

Amazing.

That word was a blip on a radar screen that appeared for less than a second before it was joined by other, crazier words, all heading for the center. Want. Need. Take.

Between the rhythmic stroking, both inside and outside her body, the fire that had been growing steadily higher suddenly flared out of control.

Things melded into a single point of focus: Brad’s ragged breathing at her ear, the rise and fall of her hips as she asked for—then demanded—more from him, the way he increased the tempo and pressure in response.

She strained upwards as everything came together at once. And the inferno suddenly reached for her and consumed her alive.

Some distant part of her consciousness heard his murmured “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you” as she came undone all around him.

Several seconds went by before those blue eyes focused on him again, and she drew a deep shuddery breath and let it out again. “Whew. I, uh … I’m not sure I’ve … Is it always like this?”

As hard as it was for him to concentrate on her words right now, he leaned down to nuzzle the bottom of her chin and tried. “Always like what?”

“I’ve never done that with a man.”

His head came back up. That? Since she was married he was pretty sure she’d had sex before, unless Travis was crazier than he’d thought. So that meant … “You’ve never had an orgasm with a man?”

Her cheeks flamed, and she shook her head.

He swore under his breath. She’d said Travis had cheated, that he’d called her frigid, but surely he’d tried to warm her up before he’d entered her. If not … Sudden anger flared in his chest. That was his signal to stop right here.

“I think you’ve had enough for one night.” He forced a smile to take the sting out of the words, thankful they both still had their clothes on.

“No! I mean, what about you?” Her thigh brushed against his still aching flesh, causing him to grit his teeth. “You haven’t …”

“No.” And it looked like tonight was going to be a very long night.

“Please, Brad. I want to. I need to.” Her throat moved. “Just to know once and for all.”

He wasn’t sure what she meant, but he was going to have to move away from her. Soon. “Know what?”

“If there really is something wrong with me.”

He said I was frigid.

His fingers tightened their hold on her. Travis Maroni deserved to have a couple of important items lopped off.

He smoothed the hair back from her face and kissed her mouth. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. I think we just proved that.”

“But you don’t want to finish it.”

If she only knew. “I do want to.” He nudged his flesh against her to prove his point. “I’m just not geared towards …” He had been about to say “being gentle” and then hesitated. The women he’d been with were as sexually aggressive as he was, for the most part. He’d never felt the need for anything else.

But having this conversation was doing crazy things to his body—he found himself wanting what he’d never wanted before. And it was contrary to what his body was clamoring for him to do: bury himself inside her as hard and as fast as he could, and to hell with the consequences.

She leaned up and kissed his chin, her fingers touching his face. “Then take me to bed. Please.”

He was damned if he did … and damned if he didn’t. Because if he refused, she’d see that as proof that Travis was right. But if he carried her off, there was no guarantee he was going to be able to hold off long enough to prove her biggest fear was baseless.

“Please.”

That whispered plea was his undoing. He rose to his feet and scooped her up, pausing to place a long, hard kiss on her lips. Her response was instantaneous, her arms going around his neck, opening to let him in.

You’re going to live to regret this, Davis.

Since when had that ever stopped him? Striding to his bedroom, bypassing the switch to the overhead light, he laid her down on the bed and then flicked on the bedside lamp. He sat down beside her and helped her take off her shirt and then shimmy out of her scrubs, leaving her panties and bra in place.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He slid his fingers into her hair and kissed her again, then stood, staring at her as he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it. Her lips were still soft and swollen from his earlier kisses, her clothing askew, hair wild and untamed as it spilled over his pillow.

His pillow. All the thoughts that had spun through his head the night of her wedding came back as if it had been only yesterday.

She blinked up at him, her gaze sliding over his chest, before moving to where his fingers were undoing the buckle to his belt.

“If you don’t like something, same rules apply,” he said. “I want to know.”

He shoved down his pants and his briefs, then kicked them to the side, watching as she assessed him, heard the quick huff of air as she breathed.

“What?” he asked.

Her eyes came up to meet his, and he saw the first hint of panic. “You’re bigger than he is.”

And exactly why did he get the feeling that was a bad thing?

Obviously, not only had Travis not waited for her fulfillment before taking his own, he’d evidently hurt her as well.

He moved to the end table and took out a packet, throwing it on the bed. “It’ll be okay, Chloe. Trust me.”

“I do.” She lay back. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

He smiled and hooked his fingers beneath her panties and yanked them down her legs. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

When he’d said “nothing”, he hadn’t been kidding. Brad kept her breathless with a steady stream of kisses. His tongue mimicked the sex act, varying the rate and timing of his thrusts until she was moaning into his mouth, her hands trying to force his head even closer.

Then his warm hand slid over her belly and teased her thighs apart, one finger sliding effortlessly inside her before she had time to tense up. It moved deeper, taking up the same rhythm as his tongue.

Oh!

His palm hit the most sensitive place on her body at the exact moment his tongue and finger were at their deepest. It repeated with each and every stroke. Her body went wild with want. Climbing rapidly.

Oh, God, she was going to lose it all over again. Before he’d had a chance to …

But, no, he was moving over her body, his weight settling heavily between her legs, so she couldn’t clamp them shut. This time she did tense.

“Shh.” His voice was at her ear, the low rumble coming out almost pained. “Relax. I won’t hurt you. Promise.”

Promise.

She could still grab his arms, and he’d stop. He’d promised he would.

They wrapped around his back instead. He wouldn’t hurt her.

His teeth nibbled across her jaw just as she felt him pause outside her entrance. She gulped as he dipped just inside then withdrew. Nice and easy. He repeated the action and her body seemed to draw him in a bit further, her hips rising to meet him this time.

It didn’t hurt. He hadn’t slammed into her like she’d expected—like she was used to. And instead of burning friction, she felt the smooth, steady glide of his body against hers.

She licked her lips and used the pressure of her hands on his back to ask for a little more. He gave it.

Further this time.

Two more strokes and he was all the way inside her, and the sensation was …

Heavenly. Stretching, full, but in a good way. Such a good way.

She lifted her hips again, and Brad matched her movement for movement. His hand slid between their bodies and found her again, coaxing her with his touch.

“Watch me, Chloe,” he whispered, his teeth nipping the joint between her shoulder and her neck, wringing another moan from her throat.

Her lids parted, and she realized they’d been screwed shut since the moment he’d lain beside her on the bed. And since his lips were still against her neck, still torturing her with slow sensual love bites, her eyes were drawn to the expanse of mirrors above her head and the breath whooshed from her lungs.

What she felt, she could now see. The room was dim enough that their bodies didn’t stand out in stark relief. Instead the play of light and shadow held her captive.

Brad’s muscular haunches were tensing and releasing with each thrust, his elbows resting on either side of her shoulders. The double dose of sight and sensation was intoxicating. She saw everything. The teeth digging into her bottom lip, the arch of her neck as his mouth dragged inch by inch along her shoulder, punctuating each kiss with a bite.

Thrust … release. Thrust … release.

She lifted her hips faster, harder, still watching the ghostly reflections above her. Brad’s fingers, which had been gently stroking the sensitized flesh between her legs, suddenly moved, trapping the nub between his thumb and forefinger, his head lifting to stare at her with an intensity that was frightening as his fingers echoed the pumping going on in other places. Her body went wild, and she bucked against him, desperation pouring over her in waves.

Hurry. Hurry. Hurry. Hurr—

Chloe screamed as it hit her.

“Yes!” The word hissed across her cheek as Brad went impossibly deep and planted himself there, the contractions inside her intensifying until she wondered if she could ever make it back from such a place.

The only coherent thought she could capture was that he had been right. It didn’t hurt.