Chapter 37

Chapter 37

"What are you doing?" With alarm, I asked.

"I don't make it a habit to sleep in my clothes; I find them very constricting." With a trace of humor, he replied simply. "But I will keep my boxers on for you this time." He continued as though he was being very giving.

The thought of all he wasn't saying about himself made my heart pound in my chest all over again. I was trying to keep my eyes on the upper portion of his body, but my curiosity was getting the better of me. My hands had dropped from my face from the shock of his remarks.

When he was finished, he picked up his clothes from the floor and folded them across one of the desk chairs so I could see his toned back. I bit my tongue so hard it bled as he leaned over the back of his desk, his ass curved against the wooden structure. He turned on the lamp and then stood up straight.

As he crossed the room and stopped close to the door to turn off the overhead lighting, my hands began to shake once more. The lamp he had turned on earlier only lit the desk area before drifting off towards us in a musky yellow light, and in an instant the room became dark. He made his way back to the couch and adjusted the pillows before turning to face me again.

"Your turn." With a murmur of expectation, I turned my back on him nervously.

Behind me, I could hear him shifting, and my motions produced shadows along the wall on the other side. While I didn't sleep in my undies as my partner did, I was positive that wearing a bra would prevent me from falling asleep.

My breathing became wobbly, and my movements became stuttering. Perhaps this wasn't the best plan, and it wouldn't be too late to request that we sleep apart. Perhaps I ought to have accepted his invitation to spend the night in his bed. However, my instinct told me not to pursue any of those options—or perhaps it was just my resentful wolf speaking up.

I wrapped my arms around my back from under my dress, snagging the bra off before moving on to the straps on my arms. My pulse rate was racing as I did this, and I managed to remove the straps without flashing my partner.

I turned around, folded my bra in my hands, and transferred it to sit next to his garments, to Derrick's disapproving moan.

I froze, turning to face him.

I now understood why he had not balked at my request. My friend's massive frame occupied more than half the couch's area, which implied that if we were ever going to fit together, at least half of my body would need to be on top of his. I gave a tremulous breath as his eyes swept over my stance.

I questioned whether he could perceive my anxiety or even the slightest hint of my desire to flee. I wasn't a virgin, but this was different from how I had handled intimacy in the past. This wasn't only about our physical relationship; if it had been, I would not have hesitated to hurl myself at him whenever he gave me a little attention.

Perhaps there was a simpler way to approach this, but once again, my stubbornness had gotten me into difficulty. It wasn't as if this hadn't happened before, so I needed to gather myself. This wouldn't be any different from the previous times I'd been trapped, confined to him, and dragged against him; it didn't have to be.

As I moved closer to him, he was waiting expectantly for me to move to sit next to him, his head resting beneath his arm. Even though I knew this was a mistake, I couldn't seem to find the resolve to stop myself. There was a strange part of me that desired this, even though I knew he would have listened to me if I had changed my mind.

Derrick's green eyes were illuminating the space dimly, and my heart was thumping loudly in my ears. I pushed my hand at the base of his shoulder and felt his sharp intake of air rattle against my bones. My hand shook slightly.

I glanced at him, knowing that he saw the fear in my eyes, and wondered how I was expected to handle this. He took matters into his own hands because he could not stand it when I hesitated.

I tripped and landed hard against him with a thud. He manhandled my body, my chest painfully rubbing against his as he moved me until I was nestled into his side in a position he believed would be comfortable, and I let out a series of unintelligible words. I wanted to follow the pattern of the receding scar on his chest, but my heart was pounding.

I said, "You're a prick," instead, and all he could do was hum.

"A couple more seconds, and you would have chickened out." He could read me so well that there were times when it worried me.

His arm was wrapped around my back, keeping me stuck to him, so I tried not to touch him as much as possible, but even so, my body felt as rigid as a piece of wood.

He finally let out an exhausted sigh after a long period of stillness.

"My body is yours to touch." His remarks were a whisper, resolute, and unwavering. "You don't have to be scared." His words were softly said, and although I knew he wasn't posing a challenge, my wolf immediately took offense.

"I'm not scared of touching you." I persisted, but all he could muster was a mocking snort in response to what I said. If this was his strategy to entice me to touch him, it was definitely effective.

My body shifted against his, and I lifted my weight to rest half of my body on him before I could talk myself out of what I was going to do. There was no other way for us to both feel at ease than by turning this couch into a bed.

My tenderness brushed across his chiseled limbs, and for an instant, our bodies tightened simultaneously. When I sprawled over him after throwing one of my legs over his waist, I believed I had disproven him, but then I felt something press against my inner thigh.

I twisted around, but Derrick's hand was firmly pushed against my back, holding me in the posture I had determined for myself. His arousal was so evident; it was hard, prolonged, and heated. Wondering if he had noticed the way his hard-on was touching me, I writhed against him.

His voice was strained. "You're making it worse," he told me. "You'll have to ignore it; it's not going anywhere."

Ignore it—was that really his only option?

How on earth was I meant to overlook something so enormous?

"Kylie," he moaned angrily as I moved to press against him.

I was unable to divert my attention from it any more than he could have if I had pressed my breasts against his face. I took a moment to consider my choices and came up with a solution.

I buried my face in the crook of his neck as my hand glided across the planes of his chest. I kept moving my hand till it was buried in his hair. He moaned once again as my fingertips carelessly slid through his silky hair.

"Is this okay?" With hesitation, I inquired.

"Now that I know what it feels like to have you in my arms, I don't think I'll ever be able to sleep properly without you in them again." With all his heart, he spoke, his grip tightening around me as though he was worried that this was all he would ever get.

"Derrick—

I stammered through what he was saying, but he had to know that this would not happen again.

"Shhhhhh, I know, I am getting ahead of myself." He let out a serious sigh. "But I have dreamed of this, and nothing could have ever compared to the way you are holding me right now." His statements were so sincere that my heart faltered, and I was at a loss for words. I had never imagined being held by my partner; therefore, I wasn't like him at all.

I said, "You make a good pillow," instead.

Seeing that he had said too much for me, he remained silent. I felt his breath deepen.

My fingers kept playing with his hair, but I was fully awake.