Page 55 of Brewbies
Yes.
This.
Mine.
Stay.
Ethan froze. His muscles locked down again as the word hit him like an ACME anvil. Parts of him revolted. Other parts rejoiced.
His man parts protested the interruption.
Stay?
No.Nope. That wasn’t what this was…
Leaning in closer, he allowed adrenaline to inject gravel into his voice. “Let go,” he ordered her.
She blinked at him through pleasure-glazed eyes. “What?”
“Let go of the rope,” he said, gathering her ass in his hands and standing. “I’m in control now.”
* * *
I’m in control now.
Control.
The whole damn problem, when Darby thought about it.
Had he truly been referring to dominance over her, she’d have been ready to throw a party. Organize a parade. Call out the band. Rent a crop duster to write it in the sky.
Ethan Townsend found his inner dom.
But no.
As she was a veteran of many a bad relationship, Darby’s hypervigilance bordered on an art form. Searching the smallest shift in tone or twitch of a facial muscle for unspoken thoughts.
She had felt the exact second when he’d disconnected. When the small window on his soul slammed shut, leaving only the impenetrable veneer he maintained as fastidiously as everything else in his life.
He wanted her.
That much was abundantly evident, throbbing away inside her in pulses that sent electric shocks skittering through her veins.
But he didn’twantto want her.
And it stung.
Which pissed her right the hell off.
“Let go,” he urged again, a whisper against her ear.
You first.
Maybe it had been the revelation of Ethan’s connection to the land. Maybe his attempt at a thoughtful gesture to redeem himself after the woodshop. Whatever the reason, Darby elected to relent.
Or to let him think she had.
Held aloft by Ethan’s powerful hands, she relinquished her grip on the rope. And with it, her leverage. His grip on her tightened as Darby slid down his body. She paused for a moment to take it in, savoring the sensation of his being as physically close as he was emotionally distant.
