Page 9 of Juan

“Amber?” he said again, his voice deeper, huskier than moments before.

Again, she lifted her eyes to meet his. Could she do it? Could she take the risk? Coming back from the awkwardness of today would be nothing compared to what they’d face if she asked what she wanted to ask and he declined.

He took a step forward, hesitated, then stepped back.

That tiny hint of vulnerability gave her the courage that she needed and, on an exhale, she chose. “Will you teach me how to enjoy sex again?”

Chapter five

“Excuse me?” Juan asked. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had shocked him. Or the last time so few words sent a wave of heat, twisted with pleasure and need, scorching through him.

Amber curled her hands at her side, her dark hair falling over her shoulder as she struggled to hold his gaze. He admired her resolve; she desperately wanted to look away but refused to allow herself.

“Will you teach me to enjoy sex again?” she repeated. Her body vibrated with a palpable stillness. Aroused yet cautious, ready to flee, ready to apologize, ready to make herself small for daring to ask for something for herself.

She wasn’t the first woman to make such a raw, vulnerable request of him. She wasn’t even the tenth. But hearing it from her unsettled him, and his stomach tilted, unbalancing him like the one time he’d walked through the mirrored room of a fun house.

Unlike that hot summer night at the local fair decades ago, though, his skin prickled and his muscles tensed in anticipation.

That was different.

Was it awareness? Or a warning? He acknowledged it could possibly be both.

He poked around inside his head for the source of his unease. Was it because she’d been living at the clubhouse for over a year, and he was far closer to her than any other woman he’d helped? Or was it because she was considering dating again and only needed him to help make those specific wounds from her marriage slightly less raw before moving on?

He’d helped a number of women in the past six years heal in just that way, though. That possibility shouldn’t give him pause. The fact that it did—and the knowledge that no less than four men had given her their number today—told him it mattered. Although hadn’t he also been telling himself only hours earlier that if she decided to date, as her friend, he needed to support her? Of course, he hadn’t envisioned this type of support.

She swallowed, the quiet sound ricocheting across the space between them, drawing his attention back to her question.

He moved to cross his arms, then stopped mid-motion and dropped them awkwardly back to his sides. “You don’t have to answer, but can I ask why?”

“Why, in general? Or why now? Or maybe why you?” she countered, her head tipped, seeking clarity. Clumped strands of hair fell over her shoulder, and he wondered how she managed to get lemonade on her head. And where else she had it on her body.

“Any? All?” he responded. He didn’t begrudge Amber her desire to take back that piece of her life, but he wanted to understand it. Understand why now, why him.

A first for him. And not a welcome experience. Untrodden territory rarely was.

“Never mind,” he said with a shake of his head. This wasn’t about him, and he didn’t need to make it about him. He didn’t need to understand anything other than the fact that she’d asked for his help. “Yes, I’ll help you,” he said.

His stomach swooped as if he’d navigated a plane into a zero-gravity free fall. Hopefully, his decision wouldn’t kill the engines. Not that he couldn’t recover, but he didn’t need that kind of excitement in his life anymore. After nearly ten years in Special Forces, he’d had enough to last a lifetime.

And if that didn’t make him sound forty years older than his current thirty-five, then he didn’t know what did.

Amber blinked her big brown doe eyes. He’d only recently learned that she’d been a model before marrying her arse-wipe of a husband. The revelation hadn’t caused so much as a ripple in the club. It had been news, sure, but the kind of news that slid into their consciousness as if it had always been there. As if they’d known it all along but simply forgot for the moment.

“You will?”

He didn’t like the surprise in her voice. “Yes.”

A thousand questions pinged inside his head. When did she want to start? Did she want to be in her room or his? Before her husband tried—and failed—to destroy her, what had she liked?

She inhaled, her breasts pressing against the cotton of her V-neck T-shirt. His fingers twitched.

“I need to shower. Maybe we could grab a drink later tonight?”

“Maybe I could help you shower?” The words came out before he had a chance to think. They were too much too fast, he knew that. But the bloom of color spreading up Amber’s chest distracted him too much to take them back.

The idea aroused her. Or at least interested her.