She felt physically and emotionally wrung, and vulnerable from his overwhelming ability to control her arousal. She hadn’t expected that—hadn’t wanted it. She’d wanted brief physical gratification, a fun, lighthearted affair. Instead, she’d got intense desire. She was like a scrap of paper fluttering dangerously close to a naked flame. Part of her hungered for him, wanted to be consumed by him. But the other part of her was frightened by what it meant. Shivery, tearful, she rolled away from him and pushed herself upright. She searched the ground for her panties, retrieved them, and pulled them on. “Chloe?” Garth sat up as well and caught her arm. “Are you okay?” “Fine.” She smiled brightly—too brightly—and reached for her bra. “It’s getting late.” “Wait. Don’t go yet.” “I’ve got a busy day at work tomorrow. It would be best to get going.” He sat back and watched her get dressed. As she pulled on her cutoffs, he said, “What’s going on?” “Nothing.”
