wanted?”
Jamie frowned. “Always
really
wanted.”
Sapphire eyes narrowed to a squint. “So, why aren’t you one?”
“My mother said social workers don’t make any money. She wanted me to be a lawyer.”
“And you always do what your mother wants you to?”
“God knows I tried.” Jamie shook her head. “Didn’t matter—it was never enough.” She shrugged. “Anyway, it’s moot. She died two months ago.”
“Guess you can stop trying now,” Brad said, with a wry chuckle.
“Some habits are harder to break than others.”
“You’re not ready yet?”
Jamie smiled sadly. “Why does everyone always ask me that?”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Oh, I think you’ll figure it all out soon enough.”
“Sure—easy for the computer genius to say.”
“Quit your job,” Brad said.
“What? I can’t do that. My sister would have a fit.”
“I could use a good social worker.” He leaned in to kiss her softly on the mouth.
Jamie laughed. “God, you’re a good kisser,” she said, reluctantly coming up for air.
“Speaking of sisters,” Brad said, his smile growing cryptic. “Who do you think taught me to kiss like that?”
“Your sister taught you how to kiss?”
“Sisters,” he qualified. “I had three of them. I was the baby of the family, and they used me shamelessly.” He laughed. “So when they first started dating, they’d try things out on me. ‘How was that, Bradley? And how was that?’ And then they started bringing over their friends, and that’s when things got really interesting.”
“I bet.”
“Yeah, because then I could be more, what’s the term a social worker would use? Proactive? Yeah, that’s it. I definitely became more proactive. And that’s when they started telling me what
they
liked. They said there was nothing worse than some guy jamming his tongue halfway down your throat, that it was much better to take it slow and gentle. Like this,” he said, once againdrawing Jamie into his arms and touching her lips with his own.
She felt his tongue playing with the sides of her mouth, felt it brush gently against her own tongue before slowly moving deeper. His arms snaked around her body, pulling her down on the bed as he climbed on top of her. But instead of thrusting into her, she felt him moving down the bed, his tongue tracing a sensuous path from her neck to her breasts, and then moving lower still, until his head was buried between her legs, his tongue working its magic there. She cried out as her body was wracked by a series of spasms unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. “Please don’t tell me your sisters taught you that,” she said later, when she could find her voice.
He laughed. “No, I figured that one out all by myself. Don’t tell me nobody’s ever done that to you before.”
“Not like that, they haven’t.” Jamie thought of her former husband. She’d practically had to beg him to perform oral sex, and the few times he had—grudgingly, reluctantly—he’d jumped out of bed immediately afterward to brush his teeth and gargle. It hadn’t taken very long for her to stop asking. “So, have you ever been married?” she asked.
“Yep,” Brad said easily, although he offered nothing further.
“And?”
“And it didn’t work out.”
“You don’t want to talk about it,” Jamie stated.
“No, I don’t mind talking about it,” Brad said. “There just isn’t a whole lot to say. The marriage was good, and then it wasn’t. It wasn’t anybody’s fault, and luckily, we’vemanaged to stay friends. We talk on the phone pretty much every week.”
“You do?”
“Well, we have a son together.”
“You have a son?”
“Corey. He’s five years old. I have a picture somewhere.” Brad beamed with obvious pride as he reached for his jeans at the far end of the bed. He retrieved his wallet, pulled a crumpled photograph out from behind a neat stack of