Читать книгу Hot Single Docs Collection - Lynne Marshall - Страница 95

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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

WHEN WAS MAKING love not making love?

When it was sex.

Chloe lay curled on her side in a tight ball, her breathing still heavy and uneven, while Brad stared at the ceiling. She’d been lying right beside him, still caught up in the afterglow, when her eyes had happened to meet his in the mirror and had been shocked by the cold emptiness she saw there.

She’d had to roll over to block out the sight.

She might love him, but he did not return the sentiment.

God, she was such a fool.

He’d shocked her tonight by coming through the door and grabbing her off the sofa. Pressing her against the nearest wall, he’d propped his elbows on either side of her head and stared down at her for a long time. Just as suddenly he’d lowered his head and kissed her. The second they’d touched, it had been as if a bomb had gone off. He’d devoured her, using his lips, his tongue...his teeth, his body telling her in no uncertain terms that he’d wanted her. Badly. Couldn’t wait to have her. She’d never seen him like that before.

She’d been thrilled. Ecstatic. Surely he felt the same way about her that she did about him.

There’d been none of the slow build-up that had always gone on between them. He’d shoved her scrubs and panties down and off and had lifted her onto his hips, burying himself inside her within seconds. Had carried her to bed like that. Still kissing. One hand under her butt, the other buried deep in her hair, holding her to him as he’d groaned into her mouth and surged inside her with each step.

Then she’d free-fallen onto the bed, with Brad still on top of her, still inside her. All around her.

She hadn’t known what had been going on in his head, but whatever it was she’d been right there with him. Had been ready for him the second he’d touched her. She’d scratched and bitten and moaned out her need, her hips rising to meet each thrust. She’d tasted blood, but didn’t know whose it was. His? Hers?

God!

She’d gone up in flames. Had held onto him as she’d come crashing back down to earth.

Until she’d realized he had no longer been holding her. Tension had radiated off him as he’d pulled out of her without a word, rolling onto his back. She’d frowned, glancing into the mirror above her.

And she’d seen it.

Lord, she’d almost told him she loved him, had gritted her teeth at the last second and let the words sing through her head instead. What a disaster that would have been, if she’d said them out loud.

He’d have laughed in her face.

Or worse.

She pulled in a careful breath as she lay there. Then another one, before she got up the courage to say the words. “Do you want me to leave?”

Chloe didn’t know exactly what she meant by the question. Wasn’t sure if she was talking about his bedroom or about his life.

The silence was deafening. Her heart gave a few painful thumps. But when she braced herself to get up, his hand was on her hip, gripping tight. “No. Don’t go.”

“Are you sure?”

Brad rolled on his side and put his arm around her. “Yes.” He pulled her back against him. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

She swallowed, tears burning at the back of her eyes as she realized what was wrong with him. That’s why he’d looked that way. Why he’d been so stiff and unyielding. He thought their lovemaking had been too rough, that he’d hurt her like Travis had done.

“No. Couldn’t you tell?”

His arm tightened. “I wasn’t paying attention to anyone but...” a beat went by “...myself.”

She turned her head and kissed his upper arm, where his tattoo was. “I got a little carried away too. I think I might have bitten your lip.”

There was a pause as if he was testing out that admission. “I didn’t even feel it.”

Her cheek rubbed where her lips had kissed. “Didn’t you feel anything?”

“I felt everything. Except that.” His chest rose and fell in a sigh. “I don’t want to hurt you, Chloe.”

She stiffened. Was he still talking about the sex? “I already told you, you didn’t. I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

What was with the enigmatic questions? Just when she’d thought she had him figured out, he changed direction and confused her all over again.

She shifted in his arms, until she was facing him. She swept the hair off his forehead, like she’d done in the park. That day seemed like ages ago. “What’s wrong, Brad?”

His throat moved. “My father has cancer.”

Chloe stared at him. “My God. When did you find out?”

“A couple of days ago. I went to see him today.”

And then he’d come home and taken her to bed. The desperation she’d sensed in him hadn’t been because of her at all but because of the devastating news he’d gotten. It also explained the emotional withdrawal she’d sensed in him over the last couple of days.

“Is it serious?”

He nodded. “Terminal.”

She grabbed his hand. “I’m so sorry. It’s good that he wanted to see you, though.”

“He wants me to take care of my mother.”

Chloe searched his eyes, but they were devoid of emotion. “Take care of her how?”

A quick shrug. “He wants me to be there for her.”

Now she understood. His father wanted him to be there for a mother who’d never been there for Brad. Not really. Her heart ached. “Will you?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to give it some thought.”

The coolness in his voice sent a chill over her, but she hadn’t walked where Brad had walked. Hadn’t been on the receiving end of abuse that drove you to despair, drove you to take chances you knew you shouldn’t. She thought about Travis. Well, maybe she had walked a mile or two in his shoes.

Maybe more than that. Hadn’t her experience with Travis caused her to look up an old friend and ask him to have sex with her? And then gone and stupidly fallen in love with him?

Oh, yeah. She’d taken some chances that she’d known she shouldn’t. And had taken them anyway.

She pushed the thought away. It wasn’t the same thing at all.

Wasn’t it?

Clearing her throat, she cast around for something to say. “How long does he have?”

“Three months. Maybe four.”

Sadness washed over her. She would probably be out of Brad’s apartment by that time. Would he even tell her what was happening with his father?

Maybe. The lovemaking they’d just shared said he might.

And as much as she wanted to close her eyes and ignore it, a little kernel of hope was lodged firmly in her heart. Like a blood clot that preceded a heart attack?

God, she hoped not.

Maybe there was the equivalent of a clot-busting drug she could take that would get rid of the thing once and for all.

Or maybe she could just ignore whatever it was and pray she had the symptoms all wrong. That what she’d thought was love was actually just a bad case of indigestion that would soon wash through her system, never to be seen again.

Yeah. Right.

Because lying in bed with him right now, she knew there was no place she’d rather be. Now, if she could only convince Brad to give them a chance...

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