That's what I tell myself as she kisses me.
I don't believe it for a minute.
After our kiss, I take her to my cabin.
Her eyes move around the cabin once, not nervous, just taking stock, and then they come back to me. The professional composure is down. The woman underneath all of the fear is incredible and strong and beautiful.
"I'm not great at the prelude," she says.
"There doesn't have to be one."
"Okay."
I cross to her. My hands find her face, and she exhales when I tip her chin up, this long controlled breath going out of her like she's been holding it since the barn. I take my time with the first kiss. Slow enough that she makes a frustrated sound against my mouth, and her hands fist in my shirt.
"Carson."
"I know." I walk her back toward the bed. "I've got you."
She shivers when my hands find her waist, before I've done anything at all. I pull her shirt over her head and just look at her for a moment. The flush climbing her throat. Her chest is rising and falling quickly. All that careful professional composure is completely stripped away, and underneath it, something I haven't expected: she is beautiful in a way that has nothing to do with what she looks like. It is the look of someone who has finally stopped managing. She reaches for my buttons, and I let her work them, watching her fingers move, watching her focus shift entirely inward.
I can't take my eyes off of her.
Her hands still on my shirt. She looks up.
"You've been driving me out of my mind," I tell her. "Every morning this week. Showing up in my barn and working so hard at something that terrified you, and never once asking me to make it easier." I hold her gaze. "I've wanted my hands on you since the first day."
Something in her face opens up like a door swinging wide. She reaches up and pulls me down to her mouth for another kiss.
I lay her back and take my time with it. My mouth at her throat, her collarbone, the soft curve of her breast. Her skin is warm, and I learn the shape of her slowly, the way I learn a new horse: not rushing toward the end, paying attention to every response. She makes sounds she is trying to keep contained, her hands moving through my hair.
"Carson." My name in her mouth, low.
"Yeah."
"Stop being careful with me."
I stop being careful.
I get my mouth on her and she stops trying to keep quiet. Her hands fist in my hair and pull and I let her, keep her hips where Iwant them with one hand flat on her stomach, and take my time until she is shaking.
"Right there." Her voice has gone ragged. "Don't you dare stop."
I ease off just enough to hear her say it again.
"Carson. Please."
I give her what she wants. She comes hard, thighs locking around my shoulders, my name loud in the dark cabin, and I stay with her all the way through it.
When I come back up she grabs my shoulder.
"I want your cock inside me," she says. "Right now."
Something hits me low and certain. "Say that again."
She does. Her hand slides down between us and wraps around me and I groan into her shoulder, the sound dragged out of me before I can stop it. I pull her hand away and settle my weight over her, and she wraps her legs around my hips and puts her mouth at my ear.
"I said stop being careful."
