NYC Angels Flirting with Danger

chapter FIFTEEN



JASON WAS GOING to skin him alive.

Glancing at the ceiling, the evidence of all he’d done was right next to him curled in a ball, her hip pressed against his side, his arm stretched along her thigh. The tattoo on his shoulder tingled, remembering her lips trailing over it the previous night. He brought his hand up to scrub away the sensation.

A thin sheet was all that covered her nakedness, much like the coat she’d worn that first night.

That sheet hadn’t been anywhere around when he’d finally carried her to his bed. It was as if he’d unleashed something wild and elemental in Chloe, her second orgasm creating an explosion that had engulfed them both within seconds.

Is it always like this? Her words had gutted him. Made him take her when he should have simply given her release and then set her free.

If Jason was out for blood, Brad knew exactly whose he should start with.

Against his will, he stroked her leg as he continued to stare at her in the overhead mirror. Soft hair, mussed and tangled from his fingers. Warm body that had welcomed him home not once but twice last night.

He swallowed as his flesh tightened all over again at the memory of what they’d done together. Chloe had straddled him, just like in his earlier fantasies, but not at his insistence. She’d taken the lead that second time, hesitating only a second or two when he’d winced, his struggle to hang on becoming a physical effort that had rivaled anything he’d ever done.

When she’d frowned and asked him if he was okay, he had only been able to groan an affirmation at the gorgeous creature who’d become a siren of the worst sort, leading him to his doom as surely as those ancient sailors had been.

The question was, what did he do about her?

He couldn’t bring himself to regret what they’d done because Chloe had needed to discover the truth about good sex. And it had been good. Too good. The temptation was there to keep taking what she offered. To drink his fill and then move on, just like he always did.

Just as he always would.

He shifted his body to the side and wrapped his arm around her, drawing her against him. For now he would just enjoy the feel of her body, the scent of her skin. And then he’d try to forget any of this had ever happened.

“Chloe, that’s abuse.” The concern in Layla’s eyes was evident even beneath the shadowy canopy of trees in the park. “Tell me you’re not going back to him.”

Chloe wondered if she’d made a mistake telling her new friend about Travis, but she’d had to talk to someone. And when Layla had mentioned wanting to get out of the hospital for a while, carrying their coffee cups to Central Park had seemed like the obvious solution.

Layla motioned to the park bench, and Chloe gladly parked herself on it.

She took a careful sip of her coffee. “I’m not going back. But it’s a little more complicated than that.”

“More complicated than your husband humiliating you in bed, and then … cheating on you?” There was a strange hesitation in those last three words, as if Layla had had to push them out from somewhere deep inside her.

Should she tell her friend the extent of it? May as well. She’d already told her the worst part.

Because it was.

The night with Brad had been fabulous, wrenching a reaction from deep within her soul. One she’d never dreamed possible.

It made her realize Layla’s words were true. Not only had Travis been all about taking everything for himself during their encounters, he’d done things during the act that had hurt her physically—nothing overt but subtle things that she now wondered if he’d done on purpose. Maybe punishing her for not doing exactly what he wanted.

Brad, on the other hand … She closed her eyes and sighed. Was she setting herself up for heartache of a different sort?

“I slept with Brad last night.”

“Brad?” Layla’s mouth popped open. “Brad Davis? Our Brad Davis?”

Okay, so hearing it put in those terms wasn’t the most reassuring thing in the world.

Chloe nodded. “So technically I’ve cheated on Travis as well.”

A hand covered hers. “Oh, honey. You’re talking apples and oranges here. You’ve filed for divorce, right?”

“I’ve talked to a lawyer. He’s drawing up the paperwork. The sooner this is over, the better.”

“Good.” A jogger went past, and they both waited until he was some distance away before either spoke. “Is it awkward, seeing Brad at work?”

“You have no idea.”

He’d already been up and out of bed when she’d awoken this morning. Neither of them had said anything about what had happened, and Chloe had been glad. She’d wolfed down the bacon and eggs Brad had made, surprised by how hungry she was. And also by how energized her body felt. She was sore, but it was a good soreness. Brad had brought her to completion each time before giving in to his own needs. Were all men except Travis like that?

“Oh, I think I do.” Layla’s soft words pulled her from her thoughts. For a panicky moment she thought her friend was saying that she’d slept with Brad as well, but there’d been no hint of anything between them when he’d asked Layla to show her around the hospital.

“I don’t understand?”

Layla leaned back and crossed her legs, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from her navy pants. “Alex Rodriguez.”

“What about him?”

When the other woman turned toward her, her nose crinkling, Chloe got the message. “Oh. You two …”

“A long time ago.” There was a long pause. “I was married to someone else at the time.”

So she hadn’t just pretended to know what Chloe was going through. She’d been through something similar.

“So are you and Alex still together?” Chloe had never seen the legendary neurosurgeon in person, but there was a kind of awe that hung in the air whenever his name was mentioned.

“No. After I left LA, I never thought I’d see him again. I didn’t even realize he was at Angel’s until the day of my interview.”

“How awful.” She put her arm around Layla’s shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze.

“It has been.” Layla smiled. “It feels so good to be able to tell someone about it.”

Chloe thought for a minute. The last thing she wanted to do was go home and face Brad after what had happened the night before. And it sounded like Layla could use some downtime as well. “Why don’t we go out tonight after work? Just us girls? There’s a tapas bar in the meatpacking district that’s supposed to be great. We can grab a bite to eat and drown our sorrows.”

As long as she stuck to frozen daiquiris, rather than straight whiskey, she should be fine.

“I’d love that. What time do you get off?”

“Six.”

“Great. Do you want to meet in the lobby?”

“Sounds good.”

Layla took one last sip of her coffee then crumpled her cup. “So … how was it?”

“How was what?”

Her friend’s brows went up, and she gave her a pointed smile. “The sex. With Brad.”

Draining her own coffee cup, Chloe climbed to her feet, her cheeks heating. “It was … amazing.”