Page 70 of Control Freak
I licked my dry lips, thinking about the logistics. “I think, maybe…just let me lead?”
He nodded. “Got it.”
He placed his hand, palm up, on the bed between us.
I willed myself to reach out and take hold of it. We sat there, breathing quietly, for one beat, two, then three.
Just reach out and touch him. You can do this.
It was the opposite of what I’d been doing for years. Usually, I retreated, avoided, hid from the possibility of contact. My fingers twitched, I lifted my hand, and then nerves flared, and I didn’t make the move.
I let out an exasperated breath.
“Should I be doing something or?—”
“No,” I growled, frustrated.
I shook strangers’ hands for work, but that was different. Those moments were stressful and uncomfortable, and I forced myself to endure them. I didn’t want it to be that way with Shiloh. I wanted to connect with him. Wanted to linger over the touch, wanted toenjoyit.
If I couldn’t hold his hand, I could never embrace him, never kiss him, never make love to him.
I lifted my hand again,wanting so damn badly,and nudged the side of his.
Adrenaline surged, making my pulse rush in my ears.
I pulled my fingers back on instinct. Shiloh didn’t chase. He stayed still. Reassured, I slowly reached out again, holding my breath. With one fingertip, I traced the lines of his palm, getting used to the sensation of skin against skin.
“Okay?” Shiloh asked tentatively.
I lifted my finger away on reflex, startled, then exhaled slowly, a smile blooming. “Yeah. I think I am.”
I sank my right hand into Banshee’s fur, grounding myself, then flattened my left hand, settling it featherlight over Shiloh’spalm. The warmth of his skin was a foreign sensation. Unease prickled, but I let it wash through me.
This is Shiloh, and I trust him.
“Your skin is so soft,” I murmured.
I took a breath, let the weight of my hand sink more fully into him, and my heart swelled.
This touch wasn’t one I’d been forced to tolerate. It was more emotional, more comforting.
More significant in every way.
I wanted to enfold his hand or lace our fingers, but my breathing was growing ragged, and I knew I’d hit my limit soon. I didn’t want to trigger a panic. The last thing I wanted was for touching Shiloh to become a negative association for my brain.
I had too much of that already.
Reluctantly, I pulled away.
“Are you okay?” he asked, forehead creased with concern.
“Yeah.” My voice came out hoarse, and I cleared my throat. “It’s just overwhelming. I should probably stop. I know it doesn’t seem like much, touching so little…”
“I didn’t think we’d ever touch, so it actually means a lot, Holden. I’m so glad that you trust me with this.”
“It’s easier to trust you than anyone I’ve ever met,” I admitted.
It had taken me years to get to the same point with my brothers, and even then, I never touched them skin-to-skin. Shiloh had burrowed into my heart so much more quickly.
