We Shouldn't (The Raven Brothers Book 2) Page 5

  Yes, I thought remembering how his called interrupted my dream orgasm. “How can I help you?” I asked instead. He was a client, and I needed to be sure I kept professional boundaries, which meant no personal information about me. Not that I’d tell him I was having a fantasy staring him, but it was important that I didn’t give away anything personal.

  “These meetings we’re going to have, they’ll be up on the executive level. Same room as we used the other day.”

  That drab place? “I have an office on the fifth floor.” Being in my own space would help me retain my authority as his therapist, as well as offer more comfort for both of us.

  “I can compensate for the inconvenience.”

  “It’s not the inconvenience,” I said. After all, it’s only an elevator ride.

  “Good. Then I’ll see you Monday afternoon.”

  I frowned. I didn’t like his taking control of my professional life. “Let me check my calendar.” I suspected that a man like Hunter, and all his brothers, expected the world to conform to their whims. They had the money to pay for it. I had to decide how much of that I’d push back on in terms of helping him learn boundaries. I decided I could meet him up in his office since it might make him more open to therapy if he was in his own environment, but I wasn’t sure I wanted him to dictate all of our encounters.

  I went through my phone and saw an opening on Monday. “I have four open on Monday.”

  “That works for me. See you then, Doc.”

  I tried to tell him I wasn’t a doctor, but he’d hung up.

  I fell back in bed and let out a groan. I’d had challenging clients before, but none of them got to me like he did. I’d certainly never had erotic dreams about any of my past clients. But boy, what a delicious dream. I wondered how close to reality it was since I’d never been with a man. Immediately, my body went right back to feeling hot and needy as I remembered the dream image of him between my thighs, and my core began to throb with need.

  I was a virgin, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know arousal or how to take care of my own needs. With that said, I’d never had such an intense reaction to a man as I did to Hunter. It was as intriguing as it was unsettling. In the privacy of my own room, I let the image of him return. Those dark, intense eyes staring down at me as those large hands touched me, tweaking my nipples and sliding between my legs. Then it was his mouth, sucking and licking his way down until he was between my thighs. My fingers stroked my clit as I imagined his mouth there. It didn’t take long before my entire body tensed as my orgasm peaked.

  When my body floated down from the pleasurable high, I began to feel guilty. I shouldn’t be thinking of my client like that. It could impact how I treated him and my ability to help him. While I couldn’t always control my dreams. I could control who I fantasized about when touching myself. I’d have to do better at keeping Hunter out of my sexual fantasies.

  Deciding I needed to clear my head, I threw on running clothes and headed out to exercise. As I trotted through my neighborhood, I wondered what it was about Hunter that seemed to affect me so much. I wasn’t experienced in sex, but I wasn’t a complete stranger to relationships. Hunter wasn’t the type of man I’d normally gravitate too. Not that I’d dated a lot either. I’d figured out at a young age that my education was the key to escaping the poverty and lack of opportunities my mom had endured. She’d gotten pregnant in high school, and my father, a local college student, joined the military and was never heard from again. My own research in college indicated he was married and living in California. Since I never knew him, and he clearly had no interest in me, I never sought him out, even when my mother became ill and eventually died.

  My father’s abandonment was my first real experience in understanding that love and relationships weren’t the fairy tales in the books I read as a child. Instead, my best option for happiness and fulfillment was in getting an education and forging my own life. Growing up, I babysat and always enjoyed it, so I decided on a career in counseling to help children.

  I earned a scholarship and took out student loans to go to college where I continued to put my studies first. It was in college that I fell in love for the first and only time. When I met Mike, I was excited to have a man in my life. With that said, I still didn’t want to jeopardize my education and end up stuck like my mother had. We would kiss and paw at each other, but it never went any further. I loved how he respected my wishes that I wait to have sex. There were times I wanted to give in but always stopped, and he was okay with that. I suppose in retrospect, I should have known something was up. I was naïve enough to believe that he was content with what I’d allow. That it was his love for me than had him willing to wait.

  As it turned out, he wasn’t waiting. He was getting his rocks off with another woman off-campus. The betrayal didn’t just sting, it crushed me. Why was he even bothering spending time with me if he had a girlfriend fulfilling his sexual needs? I realized it was because we studied a lot together, and I often gave him my homework so he could see what I’d done and could model it. He was using me.

  His betrayal not only hurt deeply, but it also made me question my ability to read and understand people. How could I be a counselor if I couldn’t recognize deceit? The silver lining was that I re-committed to my education, graduating from college with honors and got another scholarship to attend graduate school. My goal was to work with children, but to earn my license, I needed two years of supervised clinical service, and the only job I found that would provide that type of supervision was through a clinic that worked with military veterans.

  Last year, I decided to go into private practice, where my goal was to work with children, but I ended up having mostly adults. I’d hoped my moving my office to the Rookery would give more prestige to attract more of the clientele I wanted to work with. Never in a million years did I expect that would lead to me working with a Raven.

  What was it about Hunter that affected me so strongly, unlike even Mike had? Had I been denying the sexual part of me for so long that it was now wanting to come out? Was there something about him specifically? Why wasn’t I responding to his brothers? They were handsome too. What was it about Hunter?

  I shook my head as I rounded the corner, heading back to my apartment. I shouldn’t be going there. I needed to not think of Hunter as a sexual being. He was a client. I needed to think of him in terms of how I could help him.

  How strange it was for him to call me this morning to arrange an appointment. He’d seemed so resistant the day before. Had something changed? Or was he just wanting to get his brothers off his back? Was it a good sign that he was willing to work? Because the man I saw in the office before had walls that were locked up tighter than Fort Knox.

  Even if he was going to meet with me, I knew he wouldn’t be an easy client. Not that many were, but he’d be particularly difficult, I thought. He not only had PTSD, but I could see that his family had its own set of issues that probably affected him. How much of his brothers’ intervention had to do with protecting the company over caring for Hunter? It would be sad if their motivation was protecting the company's reputation over helping their brother.

  And where was his father? Why wasn’t he there offering support to his son? And what was that deal mentioned?

  Clearly, there was going to be a lot to unpack and many areas that could be explored. However, I’d let him decide what he wanted to focus on. He’d need to be on board and willing to work for him to see changes. I had to hope that if he made an attempt to change, his brothers wouldn’t sabotage his efforts. It wasn’t uncommon for families to want their identified problem member to change, and yet, not be able to adjust when they did.

  I got back to my apartment, jotted some additional notes I wanted to remember when I saw Hunter on Monday, and then took a shower. I worked to push Hunter and his brothers out of my head, so I could enjoy my weekend and spend it doing something other than work. Another hard lesson I’d learned in my time so far as a counselor was h
ow important it was to have time away from clients and to not carry the emotional weight of their challenges with me 24/7. That was easier said than done, but I was proactive in self-care and learning to let go of my clients’ challenges, at least, during the weekend.

  7

  Hunter

  Monday

  I checked my watch. Three-thirty. Thirty minutes until my appointment with the therapy lady. Ms. Reynolds, I reminded myself. I needed to remember that. I’d looked up her name, Grace, and thought it fit her. She might look strait-laced, but there was a poise and loveliness about her. It was so bizarre how she continued to stick in my brain. Weird and a little disconcerting. And yet, it kept me from going out Saturday and Sunday nights looking for a willing woman. Instead, I stayed in, attempting to watch TV, but mostly drinking. I’d drunk enough that taking a sleeping pill was probably dangerous. I was a man on the edge and not afraid to die, but I wasn’t going to die wallowing from the horrors that plagued my mind, that was for damn sure.

  Instead, I tried what I’d done on Friday night. I took my dick in hand and conjured up my sexy librarian therapist, making myself come hard. Then I hoped for a dreamless night. I wasn’t so lucky. Again, Sara’s haunted eyes accused me of letting her baby die. Chase and my brothers and father joined in the chant. This time, even my new therapist participated. Then as always, they were all transported to Iraq, to the time just after our squad had been attacked, killing nearly everyone.

  What was the deal with the brain that it would so willing to fuck up people’s lives? How come a brain wired to be on alert for danger couldn’t be unwired when it got home? How come dreams couldn’t be stopped? It was going to drive me mad. If fucking and drinking couldn’t stop it, I wasn’t sure how talking would help, but the truth was, my methods weren’t working anymore. Chase was right to have concerns about how I might hurt the company. After all, look how badly I’d failed the family.

  Wanting to get my current troubles out of my head, I tried to focus on work again. But I felt like I was running in circles there, so when Yvonne stuck her head through my doorway to let me know my appointment was there, I was eager for a change.

  Yvonne smiled that come-hither offer she often gave me and leaned over my desk, showing off a nice set of tits. There had been times in the past when my dick had responded to her obvious efforts, but of course, I followed the no-fraternizing rule. Today, I was mostly embarrassed for her.

  “Thank you. I’ll be right there.” I dismissed her and then stood, straightened my tie and ran my fingers through my hair that was only slightly longer than it had been when I was in the military. I opted to leave my coat off. This wasn’t a business meeting, and despite my strange eagerness to see her again, I suspected I’d be annoyed and angry before the session was over. I might as well be comfortable.

  I walked out of my office and immediately my attention went to Ms. Reynolds. Yes, Grace was a good name for her. She was dressed in conservative wear again; this time a dark gray skirt that showed off lovely curves at her hips, and a white blouse. Her hair was up again, and she studied me with knowing hazel eyes accentuated by her glasses. There was something about her that felt fulfilling. Like I was a man dying of thirst and she was the water that quenched my need.

  “Thank you for coming,” I said hoping I sounded gracious and not like a man living on the edge. I hoped I could keep it up, but I knew my fuse was short, and it was her job to light it.

  “It didn’t sound like I had a choice.” She quirked a brow at me. She looked like a woman that could be walked all over, but clearly, she had gumption. She wasn’t intimidated by me or my brothers. I liked that, and there was a perverse part of me that wanted to push it. How far could I go before I’d get a reaction from her?

  I smirked and led her to the office I had refurbished over the weekend. Chase said he liked what I’d done, although I could see he was baffled about why I bothered. I was too but simply told him I didn’t want to feel like I was being interrogated in the ugly space.

  I wondered what Ms. Reynolds would think of it. I watched her face as I opened the door and let her in.

  Her eyes took in the room. “Is this the same room as before?”

  “Yes. I had it redone.”

  “It’s lovely.”

  She was lovely. Christ, what was wrong with me? Feeling annoyed at the strange, unwanted pull she had on me, I said, “Yeah, well, if I have to take part in this farce, I figured I’d spend company money to get back at my brothers.”

  She didn’t react, and yet, I felt like my statement was going to be a part of her assessment of me. Now I felt like a fool. A childish, petulant fool. Fuck.

  I went to the minifridge to get water. “Do you want some water or coffee or something.”

  “No, thank you.” She took a seat in one of the wingback chairs across from the couch. I wondered if she was going to want me to lay down on the couch and tell her about my relationship with my mother like some Freudian analyst.

  I took a long swig of my water and sat on the couch, watching her as she took out her notebook and crossed her lovely legs at her ankles. It occurred to me that I’d rather be taking her out to dinner and getting to know her. As such, I didn’t want to ruin her opinion of me by telling her how I failed in Iraq and how I was failing at home.

  “I know you feel coerced to be here—”

  “Feel? I am coerced. But let’s get it over with,” I said.

  “This is your time, Hunter. This is for you to use however you wish.”

  What I wished was to kiss that sublime mouth. I wondered how she’d respond if I told her that. Would I get more than an impassive non-reaction?

  “I think I’m supposed to work on not getting angry,” I said instead.

  “Okay. Why don’t you tell me what makes you angry?”

  “It might be easier to tell you what doesn’t make me angry.” I sat back, crossing my ankle over my knee in what I hoped looked like a relaxed and unconcerned manner, even though on the inside, I was scared to death she’d see straight through to my flawed soul.

  “Have you been angry today?”

  “I’m always angry.”

  “Why don’t you tell me about the last time your anger got away from you,” she said in that same even-keeled voice. Did she ever get angry or annoyed? Was she able to maintain that level of disinterest in her voice when she did?

  “I suppose it was Friday when my brothers cornered me in here with you.”

  “You felt cornered?”

  I frowned. “What would you call it?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I’d call it. What matters is how you felt. What you thought about it.”

  “Betrayed.”

  Her brow quirked up slightly at my description. I guessed she hadn’t expected that.

  “You felt betrayed by them.”

  I nodded.

  “What about it felt like a betrayal?” she prodded me.

  I shrugged so she’d think I didn’t give a fuck about what my brothers did to me. “Chase could have talked to me privately. They could have all talked to me privately. They didn’t need to air my dirty laundry to you.”

  “Would you have listened to them?”

  Hell no. “We’ll never know, will we?”

  “When you realized what was happening, how did you feel? Not emotionally, but in your body.”

  Now we were getting somewhere if we were going to be talking about bodily responses. I wondered what she would think if she knew I’d jacked off to mental images of her the last three nights.

  “Irritated.”

  She nodded like a teacher letting me know I was on the right track. “How did that manifest physically? Did you feel hot? Did your heart race?”

  “I felt like every neuron in my body was loaded and cocked.”

  “Do you mean you wanted to strike out at your brothers or that you felt pressure, like you might explode?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Both?”

  “Y
es.” I rolled my shoulders, trying to keep the tension from building. The sooner I could show her I had control, the sooner I could stop these sessions and move on to a more interesting type of therapy with her.

  “Have you ever struck out or exploded?”

  “With my brothers?” I asked.

  “Yes, or with anyone?”

  “No.”

  She cocked her head, her hazel eyes studying me and making want to squirm in my seat. Could she see my inadequacy? I liked her spunk, but I didn’t like that I wasn’t in control of what was going on in this room.

  “Your brothers suggest that something has changed in the last few months. Would you agree with that?”

  I looked away, hating that she was putting me on the defensive. “I suppose.”

  “What’s changed?”

  I shrugged. There was no way I was going to tell her about Sara.

  She sighed, giving me the first sign that perhaps I was getting a response from her. I wanted to ask her how that felt in her body. Was her heart rate going up? Would she be opened to my making her heart race from something other than irritation?

  “When you start to get angry, what do you do to manage it?” she finally asked.

  “Workout.”

  “Exercise. Like running?”

  “Running, hitting the punching bag, lifting weights.” I looked at her pointedly. “Fucking.” I was pretty sure I saw a quick flash of something in her pretty hazel eyes at my last word.

  “Does it work?”

  “I’d be happy to let you come home with me for a personal session, and you can find out.”

  Her stare was blank. She inhaled a breath that was probably to calm herself. I’d rather turn her on, but annoying her would work too.

  She sat back watching me, and for a moment, I felt like I was a child and my mother was looking at me in disappointment. I didn’t like that feeling.

  “Are you happy in your life, Mr. Raven?”

  My jaw tensed. “Happy enough.” Considering I’m scared emotionally and have a dysfunctional family.