Chapter 17- Losing Control
1411 Words
Dean
Dean knew he was completely screwed the second Scarlett walked back downstairs barefoot in the middle of the night wearing that oversized hoodie.
Nothing about the sight should have affected him the way it did.
It was just Scarlett.
Tired. Restless. Barely awake.
And yet somehow she still managed to walk into a room and shift the entire atmosphere around her without even trying.
Dean leaned back slightly in the kitchen chair, forcing his attention toward the paperwork spread across the counter in front of him even though he hadn’t actually absorbed a single word in the last ten minutes.
Not since hearing her footsteps upstairs.
Not since she appeared in the doorway looking soft and exhausted beneath the low kitchen lights.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked quietly.
Scarlett hesitated near the entrance to the kitchen before shrugging one shoulder.
“My brain won’t shut up.”
Dean’s eyes drifted over her automatically.
Messy hair falling over one shoulder.
Bare legs disappearing beneath the oversized hoodie.
Sleep still clouding her expression while she stood there looking entirely too comfortable inside his house.
Inside his space.
And Christ, that alone should have bothered him more than it did.
Dean wasn’t used to people settling into his life this easily.
Especially not someone like Scarlett.
She was chaos wrapped in sarcasm and stubbornness. Emotional in ways Dean usually avoided. Reckless with her mouth. Constantly testing him. Constantly pushing.
And somehow he still found himself wanting more of her every single day.
It made absolutely no sense.
Dean had spent years building control into every part of his life. Business. Reputation. Relationships. Nothing touched him unless he allowed it to.
The problem was Dean had known Scarlett for years.
She’d been Erik’s best friend since they were kids. Always around. Always talking too much. Always looking at Dean with that mixture of annoyance and curiosity like she couldn’t decide whether she disliked him or wanted his attention.
Dean had spent years treating her like she was off-limits.
Erik trusted him. Scarlett barely tolerated him half the time. And Dean knew better than to blur lines that would complicate everything.
So he ignored it.
Ignored the way she looked walking through his house during summers. Ignored the way her mouth got sassier whenever she was flustered, throwing sharp little sarcastic comments at him like the attitude somehow protected her from how affected she really was.
And God, there had been more than one moment where Dean caught himself wanting to grab her by the jaw, force her to hold eye contact, and finally see what happened when someone pushed back hard enough to break through all that bratty defiance.
Ignored the fact that somewhere along the way, his little brother’s best friend stopped looking like a kid and started becoming a very delicious distraction.
The cabin changed everything.
Because the second Dean saw her terrified and crying, something inside him snapped hard enough that pretending stopped being an option anymore.
And now he found himself:
checking if she’d eaten
listening for her footsteps
noticing every shift in her mood
wanting to calm her down instead of walk away
It was becoming a problem.
A serious one.
Because Dean Steele did not lose control over things.
Especially not women.
If he wanted something, he took it.
Simple.
That was how his world worked.
But Scarlett somehow made him hesitate in ways that genuinely frustrated him.
Because every instinct inside him wanted to dominate her completely.
He wanted her underneath him. Wanted to hear that smart mouth finally go quiet.
Wanted to see what happened when someone finally pushed back hard enough to make her stop fighting for control all the time.
And f**k—
That should have been the easy part.
Usually it was.
Usually women either submitted immediately or walked away.
Scarlett did neither.
She fought him constantly while simultaneously looking at him like she wanted him closer.
And somehow that combination was driving him insane.
Worse, Dean found himself giving into her in small ways without understanding why.
He softened around her.
Listened to her.
Held back parts of himself he normally never restrained.
Even tonight, standing in the kitchen while she looked at him with those exhausted eyes, Dean knew exactly how easy it would be to pull her against him and finally kiss her the way he’d wanted to for days now.
But he didn’t.
Because despite how badly he wanted Scarlett, Dean knew she was emotionally wrecked right now whether she admitted it or not.
The cabin. Will. Everything that happened afterward.
She was overwhelmed.
And Dean refused to become another thing she regretted later.
Even if the restraint was starting to tear him apart.
Scarlett moved farther into the kitchen before grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
His attention followed her automatically.
Again.
Always.
“You’ve been staring at the same paper for like ten minutes,” she said softly.
Dean leaned back slightly in the chair, studying her over the rim of his coffee cup.
“You’ve been watching me long enough to know that?”
Her cheeks flushed instantly.
Cute.
Way too f*****g cute.
Dean dragged a slow hand across his jaw before forcing himself to look away for half a second.
Because the truth was becoming harder to ignore.
He wanted her to say something first.
Wanted Scarlett to admit whatever this thing was between them before he completely lost whatever control he had left.
Which was ridiculous.
Dean wasn’t patient.
He didn’t wait.
He definitely didn’t sit around hoping someone would choose him first.
But Scarlett made him want things he didn’t fully understand yet.
Something real.
Something dangerous.
Something that went way beyond physical attraction at this point.
And that realization unsettled him more than anything else.
Scarlett leaned lightly against the kitchen island before twisting the cap off her water bottle.
“You’re weirdly quiet tonight.”
Dean let out a low laugh beneath his breath.
“If I said everything I was thinking right now, princess, you’d probably run upstairs and lock the door.”
Scarlett froze.
Just slightly.
But Dean caught it immediately.
Nothing about Scarlett escaped him anymore.
The way her pulse visibly shifted beneath her throat.
The way her fingers tightened around the bottle.
The way her breathing changed whenever he looked at her too long.
And Christ—
That alone nearly shattered what little restraint he still had left.
Dean leaned back farther in the chair before dragging another hand through his hair slowly.
Control.
Get control.
Because if he stood up right now, he already knew exactly how this would end.
“You should go back to sleep,” he said finally, his voice rougher than before.
Scarlett didn’t move.
Neither did he.
The silence between them thickened almost immediately, charged with too many things neither of them seemed willing to say out loud.
Scarlett studied him over the rim of her water bottle before narrowing her eyes slightly.
“You know normal people blink occasionally during conversations, right?”
Dean leaned back slowly in the chair, jaw tightening just enough for Scarlett to catch it.
Smart mouth.
Usually her sarcasm amused him.
Tonight it was rapidly becoming dangerous.
Scarlett tilted her head slightly when he didn’t answer right away.
“See? That look again.”
Dean exhaled slowly through his nose before standing from the chair in one controlled movement.
Scarlett immediately went still.
The tension in the kitchen shifted hard the second he started walking toward her.
Not rushed.
Worse.
Deliberate.
Dean stopped directly in front of her, close enough that Scarlett’s breathing visibly faltered.
“You need to go upstairs, princess.”
His voice sounded lower now. Rougher around the edges.
Scarlett swallowed once before forcing herself to maintain eye contact.
“Why?”
Dean’s jaw flexed.
“Because my patience is hanging by a thread tonight, and you standing here looking at me like that isn’t helping.”
The words sent instant heat curling low in Scarlett’s stomach, intense enough to make her thighs press together before she could stop herself.
But instead of moving, she stayed exactly where she was.
Which was a mistake.
Dean dragged one hand through his hair before looking away from her briefly like he was trying to regain control of himself.
“Scarlett,” he said more firmly this time. “Go upstairs before I stop trying to do the right thing here.”
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD