by Katy Kaylee
What plan, I wondered.
“He married her to beat Dad’s system; he didn’t love her,” Hunter said with a look to Chase that asked him to dare him to deny it.
Kade started laughing, which was odd considering the tension in the room.
“Even a blind man can see Chase is head over heels for Sara. Just because you fuck a new woman every night, doesn’t mean love doesn’t exist.”
A new woman every night?
“Fuck you, Kade, I don’t see you putting a ring on anyone’s finger,” Hunter snarled.
And with that, all of them started shouting at each other, often hurling insults. The only good thing out of all this was my being able to see how the brothers interacted. I watched the show, feeling unsettled at being used as a hammer to pound Hunter into submission. He had issues, but his brothers didn’t help. In fact, based on what I was watching, Hunter’s coping skills were better than I’d have thought. How he hadn’t already exploded from anger and frustration at the way his brothers interacted suggested he had more control than I thought.
Me, I’d had enough. I brought two fingers to my mouth and blew, letting out a loud shrill whistle through the room. All four men stopped and jerked their heads to me.
“Can all of you leave so I can speak alone with Hunter?” I said, hoping that Hunter would give me a moment.
Chase started to open his mouth, but I stared at him, wanting to appear authoritative. I must have succeeded as he clamped his jaw shut.
Finally, he said, “Come on, let’s give them some time alone.”
“You sure it’s safe—”
“Shut up, Kade,” Chase said, pressing his hand to Kade’s shoulder to move him along.
I’d expected Hunter to follow them out the door. But when the door closed, he leaned against the wall, looking at me. He crossed his arms and legs, and his expression appeared bored, but there was no mistaking the irritation radiating off of him.
The office all of a sudden felt small. I was around a cornered animal that could strike out to protect itself. This wasn’t the first time I’d been in this situation, so I took a breath and composed my face, hoping that by appearing calm, he’d relax. Or relax as much as was possible for him.
“I’m sorry that was so hard. I don’t like to start out by blindsiding a client,” I said, sitting down so he’d find me non-threatening.
“I’m not a client.”
“Even so, I’m sorry for that. I can see your brothers could probably do with some therapy themselves,” I said, hoping that by acknowledging the dysfunction of the others that I could bridge some sort of connection. That he’d feel I wasn’t against him, but on his side.
“I liked it better when we all stayed the hell away from each other.” He stayed where he was, legs and arms still crossed, but the tension on his face lessened.
“Do you think your brothers really care about you or that this is some play to get you out?” I asked, wanting to know what his true perception of his relationship with his brothers was.
He shrugged. “We usually have each other’s backs, but there’s not any warm fuzziness between us.”
“You suggested that Chase wanted you out but didn’t have the balls to fire you. Can he do that?”
“Have balls?” He quirked a brow. “I’m not sure anymore. He’s gone soft with Sara around.”
“You seem to think he has a reason to want you gone,” I prodded.
Hunter’s jaw clenched. “He does.”
I wanted to know about that but knew now wasn’t the time to dive deep into Hunter’s psyche. “You must like your work.”
“Why would you say that?” he asked.
“Because a man like you would have left long ago. Something is keeping you here.”
He shrugged and moved away from the wall. He walked to an area where a small fridge sat. He opened it and pulled out a bottle of water. He held it up to me in offering. I shook my head no.
He opened the top and sipped, then he leaned against the desk like Chase had done before.
“I have nothing else to do,” he finally responded to my comment.
“So, you want to stay?”
His eyes narrowed. “What are you trying to say, Doc?”
I wasn’t a doctor, but I decided to ignore that for now. “I’m saying that if you want to stay, you have to do something to learn to manage your anger. I can help with that. We can meet a couple times a week to chat, which will keep your brothers off your back.”
“I thought therapists were altruistic. What is Chase paying you to work so hard to convince me to work with you? Is he fucking you too?”
Inside, I cringed at his words, but I hoped on the outside I remained unaffected. I wasn’t going to let his words rattle or affect me, otherwise, he’d win.
I’d hoped that by presenting our meeting as more of a chat and not therapy, he might get on board. Clearly, that wasn’t going to work.
“You can ascribe whatever motivation you want for my behavior, but if you don’t do this, your brothers are going to find another therapist or force you to take a leave of absence,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone. I didn’t want him to think I cared one way or another what he chose. This had to be all on him.
He gulped some of his water.
“Despite what you think Hunter, you have some control over your future. Life takes you for a ride only if you let it.”
“Speak English, Doc.”
“It means you feel like you don’t have choices, but you do. You can walk out, or talk to me. You can work on your anger or take a leave of absence. You may feel like your brothers have you by the balls,” I said using his language, “But you’re still in control. What do you want? What is a couple of hours sitting and talking with me if it will get your brothers off your back and let you do work you enjoy?”
He stood, tossing his water bottle into the trash and heading to the door. I guessed he was making the choice to leave.
He yanked open the door, and I reached down for my purse.
“Doc.”
I lifted my head to see him standing in the doorway.
“I’ll talk to you but on my terms.”
I gave a nod, and then he was gone. I let out a breath, feeling my own tension dissipate. Hunter Raven was a force of nature. He was the epitome of a broody alpha male. Sexy, broody alpha male if I was honest. I pushed that out because I was his therapist now. One thing was sure, he was going to be my most challenging client yet.
I returned to my office and started a file on Hunter, making notes of my observations and things I’d want to probe or follow up on. What was the comment about a woman every night? Was that just hyperbole or fact? What was that shadow of pain or guilt I saw when Chase told him to get his head on straight or he’d be replaced? Why had he questioned the legitimacy of Chase’s marriage? From what I saw, he and his wife loved each other.
Like most families, there appeared to be a lot going on, but untangling what was family baggage and PTSD might be difficult. Not that I had to focus on the PTSD alone. My job was to help Hunter better cope with strong feelings and find peace. If that was around dealing with his brothers or managing the ever-present issues from PTSD, I’d help—assuming he’d take the work seriously. That bit would remain to be seen.
5
Hunter
Friday – Saturday
My life was totally and completely fucked up. My brothers blindsided me with an intervention. I was still no closer to figuring out who was stealing shit from Raven Industry properties. Even my off time was the shits. Not a single woman on the dance floor was making my dick twitch.
I’d arrived at one of Ash’s clubs at eight, ready to drink and find a willing woman to help me keep the dreams at bay. Normally, it wasn’t hard. Often, women sidled up to me, but if not, I would watch them dance, looking for one whose style suggested she moved horizontally as well as she did vertically on the dance floor. Then I’d move in to dance with her and invite her back to the VIP section. I
’d offer her food and expensive champagne. A couple of hours later, we’d be in my loft, naked and writhing on my bed. The better she was at blowing my mind, the less likely I’d have the dreams. In the morning, I’d send her on her way with five-hundred dollars for cab fare, and a non-committal “see ya.”
The plan had worked well until recently. Until Sara. Now, either I wasn’t picking women who could make me come hard enough, or my brain had caught on and decided to fuck me over. Knowing that, and still feeling the anger from my brothers’ attack, I wasn’t interested in any of the women on the dance floor. Or the several that had come to my booth and tried to entice me into a dance and drink.
The image of the therapist floated through my brain. My dick responded to the plain Jane, surprising me and, yet, there was something about her. She was a stunning woman but hid behind a tight bun, glasses, and conservative clothing. Maybe she had issues of her own that she was trying to mask her femininity. I wanted to peel off the layers of her clothes and spend hours discovering what made her tick. What made her moan and sigh? Was she conservative in bed too, or was her librarian style a cover to a passionate, adventurous woman? It was strange how much I wanted to know the answers.
I couldn’t believe I’d agreed to see her. Or at least, see her for counseling. It wasn’t going to work. But I couldn’t deny an interest in being with her again. I had to admire a woman that didn’t just challenge me, but all my brothers too. All at the same time. In the same room. Watching her cut Chase off with just a look was a thing of beauty.
Thinking of a woman that wasn’t here, while ignoring the women who were, was a sure sign that I wasn’t going to get laid tonight. I downed my drink and then headed out into the night. The walk back to my place cleared my head some and had me wondering why I was even thinking of the therapist. She wasn’t my type, and yet, if she showed up now, willing and able, no doubt I’d fuck her.
Since I wasn’t going to be getting laid, I decided to work when I arrived home. I was sure the therapy lady would say I was putting off going to sleep to avoid the dreams, and she’d be right. What was wrong with that?
I pulled up the employee information from HR wanting to see if I could find a suspect to our recent thefts. The problem was, we had hundreds of employees in New York. I needed to weed the options down. Since Ash’s club was the first place hit, I focused on the employees of that club. Unfortunately, nothing stood out. None had any dings on their criminal background check.
Jesus, I really was worthless. Maybe Chase should replace me because clearly, I had no idea what I was going. The anger and self-loathing built, and I was about to chuck my glass of scotch across the room but stopped as the calm, prim image of the therapy lady came into mind. What was her name? Reynolds? Ms. Reynolds, right? Chase had said “Ms.” and that usually meant single.
Shaking my head of her image, I headed to the shower to clean off the day. She’d probably think I was trying to wash away my pain or guilt or some bullshit like that. Jesus, why was I thinking of her again? I pressed my palms to the tiles, and put my head under the spout, but it didn’t douse the image of her standing up to me and my brothers or my dick that started to get hard.
“Seriously?” I said to it. “You like her?”
My dick responded in the affirmative, reminding me of the curves hinted at under her prim clothing. And her lips, good Christ, she did have a great mouth.
“What the hell?” I said, giving in. I wasn’t going to get laid, but perhaps a jerk off to the image of therapy lady sucking my dick would soften the edges and help me sleep. I gripped my dick, closing my eyes and conjuring up the pretty woman in my mind. We were in that ugly office alone. She’d unbuttoned a few of the buttons on her top, and I could see the pretty, soft swells of her tits. She dropped to her knees and looked up at me.
“I can help you take the edge off,” she said.
“Fuck yeah.” I put my dick to her lips, and she sucked the tip. I rubbed the rim of my dick with my fingers as I imagined her mouth there. Yeah, she liked that. I slipped my dick all the way into her mouth, and as my hand stroked him, slowly at first and then faster, I saw her head bobbing, felt her hot, wet mouth sucking me.
“Oh fuck.” My hips jerked forward, and my cum coated the shower wall. I worked my cock until he was empty and flaccid. My body felt light and loose. Yes, maybe I’d be able to sleep.
Just to be sure, when I got out of the shower, I took a couple of sleeping pills, and then went to bed. For the first time in a long time, my brain was quiet as I lay down and willed sleep to come.
I came to consciousness in a dingy room. I looked around to get my bearings. Sara lay handcuffed on a bed, her blood from the loss of her child soaked through the sheets and mattress. She was unconscious and Chase was on his knees by her side, weeping.
Her eyes flashed open, but there was no life in them. “Why did you let this happen?” she asked.
I swallowed as the guilt built up.
“Why did you let him kill my baby?”
“I don’t know,” I croaked out. “I’m sorry, Sara. I’m so, so sorry.”
“You killed my baby,” she started chanting. At first, I took it because she was right, and I needed to own it. But eventually, I couldn’t listen anymore. Like a coward, I covered my ears, begging her to accept my apology.
“You killed my baby, Hunter.” Now Chase had joined in. Then Ash and Kade and my father. All blaming me for the loss of Sara’s baby. The room spun, and now we were all in the desert. The smell of diesel and death filled my nostrils. The bodies of the men I served with were mangled and covered in blood. But like Sara, their eyes were open and accusing me of murder.
“NO!” I roared. I jerked, sitting up in bed. I was panting, and my body was covered in sweat. I looked around the room. My room. My bed. I was shaking as I made my way to the bathroom to throw up. I washed my face and looked at myself in the mirror. I vaguely remembered who I was before I went into the military, but as I looked in the mirror, that boy was gone. I didn’t know who I was now, except that I was a murderer.
Back in my room, I looked out the window and realized it was dawn. At least my nightmare waited until near morning to show up instead of the middle of the night. I dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, deciding to run away the last remnants of the dream. I pushed myself, forcing my lungs and heart to work at their max and to sweat away the toxins from my dream.
Home again, I showered and dressed, then headed to the Rookery. It went against Chase’s new work/life balance rule, but he wouldn’t see me. Odds were, no one else would either, except maybe Ash or Kade, so I wouldn’t be setting a bad example. I figured neither Ash nor Kade would tell, otherwise, they’d be outing themselves.
I reached my office and checked to see if there were any reports of further break-ins or thefts. I was going to find that fucker if it was the last thing I did. Fortunately, all seemed quiet. Next, I reviewed the security set up of the new resort in Florida. It would be reopening soon, so the cursory security to protect the area during renovation would need to be picked up to offer ongoing security to the residents and staff.
Feeling a little antsy, I decided to take a break. I headed out of my office, passing the room Chase had blindsided me in yesterday. I looked in. It was as we’d left it. For a Raven Industries office, it was pretty drab and depressing. I wondered what Chase had in mind for the space. Or maybe he’d decided that would be my babysitting room. Well if it was, it needed to be more comfortable. I was sure the therapist would appreciate a room that didn’t look like a noir film interrogation room, which is how it made me feel.
I pulled out my phone and called a guy I knew who did design for many of our properties. He’d been through all the security clearances, so I felt I could trust him to deal with this office space.
It was true that money talks. Within the hour, he was in the office with me, discussing design options. I didn’t tell him what the room was for, only that it needed to be comfortable and not drab. I offered t
o pay him double to have it done over the weekend.
That evening when I left, I checked in with him. The room smelled of fresh paint and several new items of furniture were sitting covered in plastic in the middle of the room. I wondered if my therapist would like the color and think it was calming. I shook my head, wondering why I was worried about her opinion of the room. It was just a room in which she was going to try to enter the inner recesses of my dark mind. Would she scrutinize me with those hazel eyes? Would my history scare her, or worse, make her pity me? Would the truth about my failure cause her to judge me? Fuck! Why did I care what she thought?
6
Grace
Sunday
Good God was he potent. Hunter looked down at me with those dark, intense eyes before swooping down and kissing me. I was burning up, despite being naked. His large frame covered me, his skin warm over his firm muscles. His hard length pressed against belly and my body ached to receive him, but he had other plans. His kiss broke from my lips and trailed down my body. He sucked on one nipple and then the other, making me gasp at the sweet torture it sent through my body.
“You like that, don’t you Doc?” he murmured against me.
“Yes.”
He moved lower and lower, over my belly, to my hip, and then he was between my thighs. My body pulsed with need and anticipation. Then is mouth was on me there, making me writhe at the delicious things he could do with his mouth and tongue. Pleasure built, coiling tight, until I was teetering on the verge of bliss.
A buzzing sound erupted. Was it in my head? God, it was my phone.
I levered up, and the dream faded. I fell back, wiping my eyes, annoyed that this was the second day in a row I’d had sexy dreams about my new client, Hunter Raven.
My phone kept buzzing, so I reached over to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Doc.”
My girly part flared to life again. “Mr. Raven?”
“Am I interrupting?”