Page 37 of Under Control

She flickered her gaze up and down, noticing he’d changed into army green fitted sweatpants and a black T-shirt. She bit her lip, hating how her body responded to him so quickly.

And that kiss earlier? It had killed her, simply killed her—and she wanted more.

But he pulled away.

Danica pressed her eyes shut, feeling so alone, wishing he would leave. She tugged the blanket toward her.

Unexpectedly, she felt, his warm, wide hands run up her back. She inhaled into his touch, so vulnerable underneath him. He gently started massaging her back, then her shoulders.

As confident as he was serious, he said, “I’ll figure this out.”

“You don’t know that,” she replied.

He pulled at her shaking body and turned her onto her back. His gaze bored into her as he ran his hands down her body, tossing away the blanket. She kept her legs tightly clamped together as he found her ankles, massaging upward to her shins. As he hit her knees, goosebumps flashing across her thighs and arousal pooled at the entrance to her untouched pussy.

She shot her eyes open and saw that Carrick’s gaze was locked on her legs as he ran his hands up and down the length of her. She’d never allowed herself to get this close to a man before. There was something about him that drove her instantly wild, giving her feelings she’d never before experienced. She wasn’t used to being touched—and she sure as hell had never been touched like that.

His touch grew so gentle and caring—and it felt so real. And maybe that was what she needed to believe.

“Why did you pull away?” she finally whispered to him as he ran his hands up her thighs.

He frowned, considering her question—then finally he responded.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“Why not?” she asked carefully.

“Because this”—he motioned between him and her, sending a clear message—“isn’t like that.”

He doesn’t want it to be like that.

“What if I want it to be?” she replied in nothing more than a heated breath.

He opened his mouth then closed it, training his gaze up her body. Being under his scrutiny alone was enough to take her breath away, and she shakily sucked in air.

“Just relax,” he ground out, clearly holding himself back.

She watched his face grow intensely focused on her thighs and what he could see between them. She parted her knees slowly, and the shirt that she’d borrowed from him fell back slightly from her hips, revealing more of her lower body. She opened her legs a little wider until she revealed that she wasn’t wearing panties anymore—not after she’d changed.

Carrick stopped his hand dead on her thigh as he stared at her wet pussy, and a groan rose in his unshaven throat.

“I need you to relax,” he said again, but in a markedly different tone.

“I don’t know how,” she replied softly.

He leaned in, working his hands up her thighs higher and higher until he hit the base of her hips. He was so close to grazing her pussy, but she knew he wouldn’t.

Will he?

“You haveneverbeen touched before?” he asked, his tone expressing a demand to know the truth.

She shook her head slowly, watching his hunger grow uncontrollable.

“You’re fucking killing me,” he growled, low and angry.

Like a werewolf changing under the moon, that familiar howl of need and desire grew louder in his throat as he looked back down at her aching wet center. It was damn clear that he had a fire lit inside him, and he likely wouldn’t be able to resist.

Which was good—because she didn’t want him to.

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