got too close, but she’d brushed his hands aside, insisting. The heat of it as it had closed over his flesh...
He shuddered. It was like nothing he’d ever felt in his life.
The graphic image flashed through his skull, and he swallowed hard as a part of his anatomy defied gravity and stirred back to life. So soon.
What the hell was she doing to him?
“You’re a witch,” he whispered, reaching to brush her hair from her forehead, needing the contact, wishing he could roll her on her back and start all over again. But he didn’t want to scare her.
Not the way he was scaring himself.
He’d never minded the mirrors the former occupants had left over his bed. Until today. Seeing their entwined images reflected back at him had taken his normally icy control and shaved it down to nothing. He’d barely lasted until she’d climaxed.
Her lips curved and she caught his hand, carrying it to her chest where her heart beat strong and firm against his palm. “So it was okay?”
“More than okay. Much more.”
That was another problem. The sex had been good. Really good. Which could create problems down the road. As a doctor, he was used to patients—pregnant though they might be—getting a little case of hero-worship when the team helped them right a troubled pregnancy.
Chloe had been stuck in a terrible marriage, with a man who’d selfishly used her and given nothing back. Hell, anyone would look better than what she’d had. And she’d had her first man-made orgasm less than a week ago. The last thing he needed was for her to become infatuated with him. Because he couldn’t be locked into a relationship. He’d feel as trapped as she had with Travis—as trapped as he’d felt as a kid. Things could turn ugly really quickly if he wasn’t careful.
He dropped onto his back and put his hands behind his head, not bothering to cover himself. His reflection stared back at him, his need still very much in evidence. Disgusted, he flicked his glance over a couple of inches and found Chloe’s eyes on him as well. Great.
Those mirrors were being ripped down from that damned ceiling the first chance he got.
As if realizing something was wrong, Chloe’s brow puckered. “You okay?”
“Peachy.”
Her head twisted sideways, looking at the real him, rather than the image above them. “Brad?”
Her voice had gone from purring contentment to uncertainty.
He was damned if he did. Damned if he didn’t.
Well, then, he might as well make sure he was as damned as possible.
He reached for her and hauled her on top of him. “I’m fine. Just wondering if you’ve had enough lessons for one night?”
As if he’d actually taught her anything. She had been the one who’d taught him a thing or two.
“Can you? I mean, aren’t you...done?”
He slowly ground against her. “Does it feel like I’m done?”
She gave a soft laugh. “I had no idea it was even possible.”
“Yeah, well, neither did I.” He nuzzled the fragrant skin just below her chin. “Which is why I’ve decided you’re a witch.”
Chloe wiggled her body until she was positioned at just the right spot, then slowly took him inside her, the air hissing from his lungs as the impossible became entirely probable. And any argument he might have made vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving only him and Chloe...and the fiery need that threatened to consume him.
THE SOUND OF a buzzer awoke her, along with Brad’s muffled curse.
“What is it?” she asked, cracking her eyelids and trying to focus on the glowing numbers of the clock. Eight o’clock. On Saturday. Wow, it was hard to imagine a week had gone by since that fiasco in the shower. A week of sharing Brad’s bed. If she squinted her eyes just right, she could almost pretend they were in a normal relationship.
“It’s the interphone. It must be the doorman. I’ll see what he wants.”
Levering himself out of bed, he walked to the door, his naked butt the best kind of eye candy there was. Chloe propped herself up on her elbow to watch, all thoughts of sleep gone. A second or two out of the room, she heard a thump and then a strangled curse.
She smiled. Not quite as cheerful this morning as she’d thought he’d be. Well, she was in a happy mood today. She’d gotten word yesterday that her paperwork at the hospital had gone through. She was officially part of the Angel’s team. She and Brad had gone out last night to celebrate. Then had come back to the apartment and had another celebration. A much more private one.
She felt like a child who’s just gotten her first taste of chocolate and couldn’t stop gobbling it up, even though she knew she was eventually going to pay for her greed. But Brad was an intensely passionate—and pretty much insatiable—lover. Which served her purposes to a T. She’d never thought she’d see soreness as a good thing. But this was a different kind of discomfort, one that served as a reminder of all the pleasure that had gone on before.
Brad appeared in the doorway. “Get dressed.”
The barked order took her by surprise. “What?”
He was already rummaging in his dresser for some clean briefs and dragging them over his hips. “Your brother is on his way up.”
“Jason?” Her mind went blank for an instant before she realized exactly what Brad was saying. “Oh, my God,” she shrieked, leaping out of bed.
Scurrying around, trying to round up her clothes, she yanked on the nearest article she could find, her shirt. Then found her jeans.
“Chloe.”
“What?” Her voice was sharp with panic as she shimmied into the garment.
His hands circled her upper arms as he looked down at her, his eyes dark. “You might want to rethink your top. Unless you want me to drag you back to bed while your brother waits in the living room.”
“My...” She glanced down and realized that not only was her white T-shirt on backwards but her nipples were clearly visible through the thin fabric. A very unladylike word exited her mouth followed by more panicked flailing as she tore apart the bedclothes in search of her errant bra.
“Looking for this?”
She cut a glance his way and found the item dangling from a lean index finger, his lips curved in amusement. Worse, he was already dressed, looking immaculately groomed except for the dark stubble lining his face.
He also looked perfectly edible.
Snatching her undergarment with a glare meant to cut him in two, she ripped her T-shirt back over her head and
