by Katy Kaylee
She quirked a brow.
I grinned. “You never flinched despite all the bullshit I gave you.”
“Most of therapy is about dealing with bullshit.”
“I suppose it is.” I kissed her shoulder. “So, what you do want to do instead?”
She shook her head and sighed. “I’m not sure. I like knowing I help people. I enjoy helping them get what they need, like getting you to the veteran’s group and yoga.”
“By the way, we need to test out your flexibility someday.”
“You should check out the Kama Sutra then. That has a lot of crazy positions.”
My dick twitched at the mention of the sex manual. “You’ve read the Kama Sutra?”
“Just because I never did the deed, doesn’t mean I didn’t learn about it.” She waggled her eyebrows.
“Did you read about blow jobs too, because you do that like a pro.”
“Porn.”
I let out a laugh, loving how open and honest she was with me. That was as much a gift as her giving me her virginity. I didn’t feel worth it, and I prayed that I never did anything to betray it.
“Seriously, Grace. Someday, we’ll do this over and over in a bed.”
She smiled. “I look forward to that.”
As far as I was concerned, we’d start tonight. I’d have taken her home to start now, except I had work I needed to get done and a group to attend.
“I want to see you later, tonight,” I said.
“Are you going to group?”
I nodded. “How about dinner after?” All of a sudden, I wanted to take her out on a real date. I wanted to act like how a man who was interested in a woman acted. I wanted to show her the town, and give her the world.
“Do you want me to cook?”
I quirked a brow. “Are you good at it?”
She looked offended. “Is there something about me that suggests otherwise?”
“No. But I like food, and you can’t be excellent at everything.”
“I’m an okay cook.”
“I’m willing to risk that. I’ll bring the wine.” I leaned over to kiss her and considered having her one more time, but the alarm went off on my phone, indicating I had fifteen minutes before a conference call with the Florida people.
We dressed, and I walked her to the elevator. Despite what happened in my office, as we walked toward the elevator, we didn’t appear to be two people who had just fucked in my office. I didn’t touch her and our voices were professional. But as the elevator dinged its arrival, I wondered why we were hiding it. She wasn’t my therapist. There was nothing wrong with my seeing her.
I tugged her to me and gave her kiss as the doors opened. “You blow my mind,” I whispered in her ear.
Her smile was wide and beautiful as she stepped in the car, reinforcing my belief that we had something beyond just great sex. I hated to let her go, but the doors closed and the elevator started its descent.
I turned to head back to my office. Yvonne was at her desk, and she looked at me with an expression I didn’t quite understand. Hurt? Pain? Anger? Since Grace had just scrambled my brain, I figured I wasn’t reading Yvonne right.
“Do you have any messages for me?” I asked.
“No, sir.” Her voice sounded clipped, and I realized she wasn’t doing something overt to attract my attention. That must have meant that she realized I was off the market. Thank fuck.
I went into my office feeling better than I’d ever remembered feeling.
22
Grace
Tuesday
There was something freeing and lovely about giving into my desire for Hunter. Not just sexual desire, but to pursue whatever it was going on between us. I’d never let go and simply let my wants at the moment dictate my actions. For so long, I put off things I wanted to do because they’d get in the way of my ultimate goal. Now that I’d reached my goal, what was I waiting for? It was time to seize the day.
I was in the office the next day, writing notes about my last client, which was hard, because my dinner the night before with Hunter kept coming to mind. It was sweet and sexy. We never did make it to my bed as he took me on my dining room table.
My body heated at the memory of his mouth on me again, and then his thrusting in and out of me powerfully until I was crying out in pleasure, followed by his own shout of release. It seemed like we were in sync on all levels. A part of me worried if I was reading too much into my feelings, as well as his words and actions. But another part of me said I should go with it. Enjoy it while it was happening and not worry about what could happen. It was how I’d been with Mike, and that didn’t go well, but Hunter wasn’t Mike.
A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts of Hunter. I checked my watch. I didn’t have another client for thirty minutes. I stood and went to the door, opening it to an unknown middle-aged man in a tweed jacket and with messy brown wisps on his balding head.
“Ms. Reynolds?” he asked.
“Yes. Can I help you?”
“I’m Stuart Brown from the New York Office of Professions that licenses counselors,” he said handing me his card.
I read it and opened my door. “Come in.” I motioned for him to sit in a chair as opposed to the love seat I often let my clients sit in to be comfortable. I didn’t want him to be comfortable. “How can I help you,” I said as I sat at my desk.
“A complaint was registered against you with my office.”
What? My brain quickly scanned my client list to identify anyone who was unhappy with my work with them. “Can you tell me who and what the complaint was about?”
“It was anonymous, which admittedly, we often take with a grain of salt. But the complaint said you were in an inappropriate relationship with one of your clients. That is something we do take seriously. There’s nothing worse than betraying the ethics of your work and potentially hurting a client’s mental health.”
I swallowed as panic flared in my belly. I used the poker face I used with my clients to hide my reaction.
“I’m surprised to hear that.”
“I need to investigate, of course. Is there any truth to this report?”
I hated lying, but I wasn’t ready to fess up either. I fudged the truth. “I’m not seeing a client personally, and I’ve never been accused of inappropriate behavior before.” Both of those statements were true. I wasn’t currently seeing a client, because Hunter wasn’t my client anymore.
He nodded and jotted down some notes. He continued to ask questions that I continued to answer in the present tense or evasively. If he was experienced in human behavior, he might have been able to tell, but he never let on that he thought I was hiding the truth.
I was relieved when he stood to leave. “I appreciate your time and candor, Ms. Reynolds. I know this is unpleasant business, but I’m sure you understand how important it is that we check out charges such as this.”
“Yes, of course,” I said rising and walking him to my door. “Is that it then?”
“Oh no,” he said, and my heart fell into the pit of my stomach. “I need to look into this further. As you know, your license could be suspended if this turns out to be true.”
“I know the rules, Mr. Brown.” I hoped my voice sounded steady and sure.
I went back to my desk and sank into my chair as tears came to my eyes. This was why I shouldn’t be indulging in my own personal desires. They always blew up in my face and ended up breaking me. Mike cheated. And now, I was going to lose my license because I finally gave in to my desire to have Hunter.
I had to end it, of course. I might not be completely fulfilled in my practice, but I didn’t have a backup plan, and I had no significant savings. If I lost my license, what would I do then? Hunter would probably help, but I didn’t want to be rescued, and there was no way of knowing how long it would last. I couldn’t rely on him to help me. The only answer was to stop seeing him.
I pulled out my phone and texted a message to him.
I need to ta
lk to you.
A few minutes later, he replied.
In a meeting now. Can talk…or fuck…in an hour.
A bittersweet emotion ran through me. I loved his dirty talk as it made me feel desired in a way I never had before. But if Mr. Brown got this text, I’d lose my license for sure.
I have a client. Later tonight?
A few minutes later, he replied.
My place when you’re finished up tonight. Maybe we’ll finally make it to a bed.
My heart tore in two. I wanted him so badly, yet I had to end this. Why was life so unfair?
I finished with my last client, wrote up my notes, and got forms ready to file to their insurance. I closed up my office and took a cab to Hunter’s place. As I rode through the streets of New York, I wondered if maybe I should have taken the subway to save money since it was possible, I was going to lose my practice.
When I got to his building, I realized that I hadn’t been to his place before, which made my heart hurt even more. The idea that he was inviting me into his home, meant he was letting me into his life. I so badly wanted to embrace that and hated that I was going to hurt him. I was going to add more pain to a man who’d already suffered so much. It brought home why it was wrong for a therapist to be in a relationship with her client. I was supposed to help him, not give him more pain.
When he opened the door, his smile was so wide and beautiful. It had been so rare to see it when I first met him, and now he was freely doling it out. Guilt piled over guilt until I thought I’d be crushed by it.
His smile faltered. “Is something wrong, Grace?”
I nodded as I stepped into his place. I wanted to look around to see how he lived, but I couldn’t stay and I couldn’t come back, so what was the point?
“We can’t see each other,” I blurted. I figured I should treat it like a Band-Aid and just rip it off.
His eyes darkened and he scoffed. “I thought it was too good to be true that you didn’t have regrets. Why are you fighting this, Grace?”
“I didn’t have regrets, but then a man from the licensing board showed up today.” Tears filled my eyes. “He said someone filed a complaint against me for having an inappropriate relationship with a client.”
His head cocked to the side. “Who?”
“He said it was anonymous.”
“Did he have any proof beyond an anonymous call?”
“He didn’t seem too. But therapist-client relationships are a huge breach of trust. He’s going to investigate.”
“And he’ll find nothing, Grace.” His hands cradled my face, while his thumbs wiped my tears. “I’m not your client.”
“But you were. You were the first time we had sex. And I’m not sure it will matter that you’re not anymore. They might still see it as wrong.”
“This isn’t wrong,” his voice was tight. “Never say this is wrong, Grace.”
I looked down, feeling completely defeated.
“Do you think this is wrong?”
“It’s ethically wrong.”
He dropped his hands from my cheeks, and I hated the pain and anger I saw etched on his face. He walked to his bar and poured a drink.
He downed it, his dark eyes watching me. I suspected he was trying to figure out what to say or do next. It seemed like a good time to leave, but I was glued to my spot. I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay. I wanted him. Was I really going to let him go?
Finally, he said. “What if we just be careful? What is there for him to find out anyway?”
“He could learn you were my client.”
“No one knows we’re seeing each other,” he said. “We’ll just keep it under wraps.”
It seemed risky, and yet, I so much wanted to give in to him. As I always did.
He moved to me, and again he put his palms on my cheeks. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, Grace. I might be a little unstable in the head, but I’m a Raven.”
“You can’t stop them from looking into this.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But I can protect you. My family has connections.”
“You sound like the mafia,” I said with a wan smile.
“We don’t break knees or make people go missing, but we do protect what’s ours.”
The feminist in me wanted to protest at his suggestion that I was his, but the woman who wanted to be loved by him went all mushy inside.
“Let’s ride this out, baby. Together.”
Together. That was the word that finally crumbled my resolve. At the same time, it caused panic. I was going to give in and risk my career. But I was also risking my heart. I was putting faith in Hunter’s words that he’d be there for me. I wanted to believe him. I thought he was being sincere. But I also knew that relationships came and went. I also knew that conflict and stress could come between otherwise happy people. What caused more conflict and stress than having a relationship that could destroy one’s life’s work?
I felt a little light headed and realized I was on the verge of hyperventilating. Of all the decisions I’d made in my life, this was the biggest. Did I go with my heart, or did I listen to my head? Did I trust this man, who by his own account had bedded hundreds of women? Did I leave the man to save my career, or did I choose the man and risk losing it?
23
Hunter
Tuesday
Jesus, was I having to debate this again? Each time she wobbled on her commitment to this relationship, I had dueling thoughts. One was to convince her to stay. The other was to tell myself that if I had to convince her to stay, maybe that was a sign that this wasn’t meant to be.
I looked down into her pretty hazel eyes through her sexy cat-like glasses. I saw fear and pain. She didn’t want to do this, I decided, and so I fought for us. I needed to make myself clearer to her. While I didn’t want her to lose her license, I wanted her to know that this was more than just a sexual affair to me. Her choice wasn’t between her job and a playboy that was showing her a good time in bed. Her choice was between her job and a man who cared for her. I’d never wanted a woman like I wanted her. Not just in bed, but in life. Maybe it wouldn’t work out in the long run, but right now, I wanted her. And I was sure she wanted me.
Her breath pitched up, coming in shallow pants. If we were having sex, I’d take that as a sign I was doing my job. But we were fully clothed, having a serious conversation.
“Hey,” I said softly. “Close your eyes.”
Her brows narrowed, but I nodded for her to do as I asked. She acquiesced and closed her eyes.
I turned her around so her back was against my chest. I held her close and started controlled breathing.
“Breathe with me, Grace.” I took a long inhale, held it for a second, and then let it out slowly.
Her first breath was shallow, shuddering out of her. I pressed my chest closer to her so she could feel my breath as I inhaled and exhaled. Soon, she was in sync with me. I could feel the tension releasing from her body.
“That’s right, baby,” I whispered in her ear and then kissed her temple. It occurred to me that we moved together well, not just in bed, but like this and in life. She calmed me and as it turned out, I could calm her.
Eventually, she turned and looked up at me with surprised eyes.
“I’m just doing what you taught me to do,” I said. I worried she’d equate that to our counseling, reminding her that she’d once been my therapist, although when she taught me it, she’d already dumped me as a client.
Finally, I saw resignation, and she leaned into me. I liked that she was giving in, and yet, I didn’t want resignation. I wanted her to want me. I wanted to know that she’d fight for me too.
“Tell me you want this,” I said, repeating the words I’d said before.
She leaned her head back and looked at me again. “There’s never been a doubt that I want this…that I want you.”
I’d take that. I leaned down and kissed her. “I told you, in my nightmares, you always come at the end and tell
me to let go.”
She nodded. “I remember.”
“You need to let go, too, Grace. Let’s just both let go and see where this takes us.”
I knew I was asking a lot of her. Not only would she be risking her heart, like I was, but also her career. However, I felt certain I could fix that if the board tried to take her license.
“Okay.”
I looked deep into her eyes, wanting to see commitment to this plan. I could still see her fear, but I also saw that she cared for me and wanted what I wanted.
“Come on. Let’s have some wine, and then I can give you a tour of my place.”
She didn’t hesitate when I took her hand and led her to the kitchen area.
“This is a wonderful loft,” she said as I pulled out an expensive bottle of wine and poured us both a glass.
“Thank you. I prefer to have open space. Not so many places for something to hide.”
Most people would find the comment odd, but Grace, having worked with people like me, would understand it. I needed to assess and know the area I was in everywhere I went, so I could be ready if something went wrong.
I did have some barriers dividing the bedrooms and baths, but the rest was completely open.
She squeezed my hand telling me she knew what I was saying.
“Look at this,” I said, pulling her with me. “This is some art I bought while abroad, just before I was sent home.”
“It’s lovely,” she said, studying the vibrant colors of the art piece depicting a middle eastern village.
Her gaze wandered to my bookcase where I had a few photographs.
She grinned. “Is this you?”
I felt my cheeks heat. “Yes. That was our last family portrait. I was twelve, there.” After that, Dad started pushing Chase, and then me, to learn the business.
“God, you were a heartbreaker then, too.”
I laughed. “I hadn’t discovered girls quite yet.”
“Your mom was beautiful,” she said.
I felt a little blip in my heart. It had been a while since I’d really thought about my mom. Her and her death had been another thing I’d tried to block out. Her loss had been difficult. She’d been my tether to the family, to life, and when she died, I lost myself. I shook my head, wondering where all this fucking insight was coming from until I looked at Grace and realized it was from her. Not from her counseling. There was something about her that was opening parts of me that I’d closed off.