Page 68 of Can't Stop Watching
Dane doesn't answer. Instead, he moves toward me with that purposeful stride that makes everything female in me stand at attention. Before I can say another word, he's opening the passenger door, hesitating—then closing it again without letting me in.
"Dane, what?—"
He grabs me, whirls me around, and presses me against the car, one strong hand at my waist, the other sliding into my hair. When his mouth finds mine, it's not a hello kiss. It's a claiming. Deep and thorough, his tongue sliding against mine like he's been thinking about this all day.
Which, apparently, he has.
"Been thinking about you," he murmurs against my lips, voice rough with want. "About all the things I want to do to you."
My breath catches. "Like what?" The words come out embarrassingly breathy.
His hand tightens in my hair, tilting my head back so he can trail his lips down my neck. "Like how I want to peel these jeans off you. Inch by inch." His teeth graze my throat. "How I want to taste every part of you. How I want to hear those little sounds you make when you come."
Jesus. My knees actually wobble.
"We're still outside my work," I manage to point out, though I'm not exactly pushing him away.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, eyes dark with hunger. "Then we should go. Now."
The intensity in his gaze makes me shiver. Whatever's happening between us—this isn't casual. It's not just sex. It's something that scares me and thrills me in equal measure.
"Take me home," I say, holding his gaze.
His slow smile is pure sin. "Yes, ma'am."
The car ride is a blur—all barely contained energy and stolen glances. Dane's hand finds my thigh, his thumb tracing small circles that send heat radiating through my body. The man drives like he does everything else—with scary competence and single-minded focus.
We make it to my place in what has to be record time, though I couldn't tell you if he broke any traffic laws. My heart's hammering as we climb the stairs, my fingers fumbling with the keys. I'm not usually this jittery, but the weight of his gaze on me makes me feel like I'm being hunted in the best possible way.
I finally get the door open and—holy shit—I'm suddenly inside, back against the wall, Dane's body pressing into mine. The door slams shut behind us without him even looking. His mouth is on mine before I can catch my breath, hungry and demanding, and I can feel how hard he is already through his jeans.
"Been thinking about in full detail," he growls against my lips, hands everywhere—in my hair, under my shirt, gripping my ass.
"Wow, multitasking," I gasp when his mouth moves to my neck. "Driving and mentally undressing me."
"Not mentally anymore." He tugs my shirt up and over my head in one fluid motion. The cool air hits my skin, but I'm burning up everywhere his fingers touch.
My own hands aren't idle, sliding under his t-shirt to feel the ridged muscles of his stomach. The man is built like some kind of Greek statue come to life—all hard planes and impossible perfection.
"Too many clothes," I mumble against his mouth.
He steps back just enough to strip his shirt off, and—Christ—the sight of him shirtless in my dimly lit apartment makes my brain short-circuit. That tattoo on his ribs—the snarling wolf—ripples as he breathes.
"See something you like?" There's that dangerous half-smile that does things to my insides.
"Fishing for compliments?"
His answer is to lift me up like I weigh nothing, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carries me toward my bedroom. The feeling of being completely at his mercy should terrify me, but it doesn't. With Dane, it feels like jumping off a cliff and knowing—somehow—that I'll fly instead of fall.
Dane sets me down by the bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His hands frame my face, but there's something different in his eyes—a restraint, like he's pulling back invisible reins on himself.
"You okay?" I ask, breathless.
He exhales slowly. "Just need a second."
I recognize that look now. It's the same one from his apartment—when he held himself back until I called him on it. He's trying to be gentle. For me. Because of what I told him about my past.
Dane, this dangerous man with his hard edges and lethal training, is trying to handle me like I'm made of glass.
