Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DRAVEN
I finish putting the palette of stone in the back of the pickup truck before hitting the brakes and tugging my shrilling phone from my pocket. I don’t recognize the number, so I send it to voicemail then wave goodbye to the customer as they close the bed of their truck before driving away.
A minute later, my phone beeps, letting me know I have a voicemail. Before deciding whether to listen to it or delete it, I drive the loader behind the showroom and shut it off.
As I step from the machine, I pull up my voicemail and listen to the message.
“Hi Draven, this is McKinsey … um, Doctor Caraway.”
All this time, and I never knew her first name. It’s … unique and beautiful.
Just like her.
“I’d like to discuss and apologize for what happened at our last session. If you could give me a call back so we can schedule an appointment, that would be great. Alternatively, I have an opening at two o’clock today if you’re available then. Um… I-I guess that’s it for now. I hope to talk to you soon.”
She wants to apologize? That’s interesting. And unexpected.
Though she’s not completely at fault for my departure. I left because she was getting too close to unearthing my past.
Too close to Lillian.
I glance at the clock on my screen. I have more than enough time to finish the work Royce asked me to complete and still make it to her house by two.
Fine. I promised Royce one more week. I think I can keep her from digging around where she’s not welcome for a few more days. Best to get it over with.
Quickly saving her number to my phone, I pull up my text messages to send one to her. I’m not ready to speak to her just yet. Not without properly preparing myself first.
Me:
It’s Draven. See you at 2.
Three little dots appear as she types her reply. I stare at the screen, watching the dots bounce. It takes forever, so when her message finally comes through, I figure she must’ve typed out and erased everything she was trying to say several times before sending the three words she decided on.
Doc Caraway:
See you then.
I stare at her message for longer than I mean to, my mind voraciously curious to know what else she wanted to say. Maybe I can get it out of her later.
* * *
I see the doc at her door, saying goodbye to her last patient as I pull up to her house.
Her smile is infectious, and I wish I was worthy of it. It pains me to know I’ll never see it directed at me. She doesn’t realize it, but her eyes meet mine through my blacked-out windshield before she lets the door close behind her. I’m ten minutes early, so I decide to wait in my car for a few before going in.
I’m as prepared as I can be for my appointment. I jerked off in the shower before I left to come here. I dowsed myself in cologne to try to ward off the scent of her as much as possible. I can’t bear sitting in her office with a hard-on again.
Watching as she fingers her hair.
As she rubs her thighs together, uncrossing and recrossing her legs.
Was it an innocent repositioning of her body yesterday? Or something else entirely? A motion to quell an ache she doesn’t want to admit to having.
Regardless, if she were to notice me sporting an unfortunately timed boner, it would end me.
Finally getting up enough nerve, I exit my car. Instead of walking right in, I knock on the storm door and wait.
“Come in, Draven,” I hear her call from the other room. “Can you close the door behind you?”
I step into the hallway then close the heavy front door behind me. I remove my boots, blaming it on wanting to be polite when I know it’s just another way to delay being closed in her office. Once they’re off, I shut my eyes and silently tell myself that I can make it through. It’s just one hour. Sixty minutes spent evading her questioning. It’s an easy task compared to those I’ve had to complete in my past.
Entering her office, my eyes land on her as she writes furiously on a notepad at her desk.
“Have a seat. I’ll be right with you.” She doesn’t look up as she gives her order.
I settle onto the couch, sitting in the same corner I have the other two times I’ve been here.
“Okay.” I watch as she places her notepad into a folder before filing it away in the cabinet behind her desk. “Sorry about that. I was just finishing up some notes.”
Offering her a tight smile, I run my hand through my hair before tapping my feet on the ground beneath me.
Walking around to the front of her desk, she drops into the chair across from me. She’s avoiding my eyes, and I have to say I’m as equally upset as I am relieved by it.
“Draven…” she says my name before finally looking at me.
The second our eyes meet, there’s no denying the spark that passes between them.
Oh, fuck.
I gulp, trying to shove my lust down. The desire I feel to get up, cross the room, wrap her hair around my fist, and pin her to the chair with my kiss is strong.
Really fucking strong.
But I pull on every last restraint I have in me to keep myself seated.
I worry she can see or sense my struggle, but she continues talking as though I’m not sitting here writhing in pain.
“I have to apologize for my line of questioning yesterday. I shouldn’t have pushed you the way I did. I promise, it won’t happen again, and I want to thank you for giving me another chance.”
I cross my leg over my knee to put a barrier between her stare and my crotch. I can feel every ounce of restraint I have failing me.
I think back to yesterday. The questioning she’s referring to about why I don’t want a significant other. The concern and disappointment so blatantly written on her face.
Before I can stop myself, the words start falling from my tongue.
“Why were you so irritated? I didn’t realize my personal life affected you so much.”
Catching her off guard, her jaw drops slightly, leaving her mouth agape with shock.
“I-um. It … it doesn’t. As I said, I regret my actions, and you can be reassured it won’t happen again.”
She pins me with a stare and a warning to kill my curiosity as well as my own line of questioning.
Which I do, but not without a wicked, knowing smile that tells her I’m not stupid. That I may have caught on to the reason for her behavior.
But this smile is also a weapon I use to camouflage my own desire for her.
“All right, then. What should we talk about today, Doc?”
Spreading my arm out across the back of the couch, I cock my eyebrow and watch her squirm as she tries to think of where to begin.
I don’t expect the answer she gives me.
“You tell me, Draven.” Now she’s the one to relax back into her chair. “Let’s approach your therapy a little differently. What’s on your mind today? What are you feeling?”
Lust. Unworthiness. Fear. Pain.
“I don’t really work that way, Doc.”
I can’t bring myself to just blurt out my feelings.
“Oh, come on. It’s easy. Just say the first thing that pops into your mind. Is it happiness? Confusion? Guilt? Fear?”
“Fear,” I echo, unable to stop the word from hurling itself from my mouth.
My heart rate elevates with my unwanted admission.
“Good. What are you fearful of?”
You.
Thankfully, I’ve gained control of my own fucking tongue before I say something else I may regret.
“Um…” I try to come up with anything other than the truth. I get ready to tell her I don’t know, but instead, words I’ve never uttered aloud come out. “Getting close to someone.”
My face flushes with heat, and I lift my hand to my lips before I even realize they’ve moved. Probably to keep more of my secrets from escaping.
“Okay. That’s good, Draven. Can you explain that to me?”
“No.”
When her heavy sigh hits my ears, I elaborate.
“It’s not that I don’t want to.” Yes the fuck it is… “I-I just don’t know how.”
This is a moment I wished would never come. That I would be forced to open up about what happened with Lillian and watch the horror on someone else’s face as I admit to one of the most fucked-up things I’ve ever done.
But now that it’s here, my conscience is egging me on to spill my guts more than it ever has before.
As I think of how to say what I need to say, the doc gets up from her seat and walks over to the sofa. She settles in on the other end of it then turns her body toward me. Reaching out, she places her hand over mine and squeezes it reassuringly.
Her touch ignites my blood.
“Remember, Draven, this is a safe space.”
Tearing my hand from hers, the doc looks like I just slapped her.
Fuck.
I look down, my pulse thundering in my ears.
Here goes nothing.
“Yesterday you asked me how I coped with my father’s death.”
The doc remains silent next to me, allowing me to continue.
“I said I didn’t cope with it, which is true, but that’s only part of the story.” I force myself to look at her now. Here fucking goes nothing. “I fucked a manic depressive girl knowing she liked me then pretended it never happened. When she suffered a mental breakdown over my rejection of her, I doubled down and told everyone around us she was lying about everything.”
Her eyes soften the longer I talk, and I almost stop to ask what’s wrong with her. She shouldn’t be showing me any empathy or pity for what I did. I wasn’t the victim in that scenario.
“Her parents sent her away, fearing for her safety. I don’t know what happened to her after that. Her family left town, and I haven’t seen or heard from her since.”
I look away from her, no longer able to handle her gentle gaze.
“Draven, you were sixteen.”
“So?” My eyes snap to hers again, angry that she isn’t hurling insults at me. “That’s not an excuse. Teenage boys are more than capable of doing terrible things.”
“Yes, I realize that.”
The way she says it makes me believe she’s had her own run-in with a despicable teen boy in her past. It makes me curious, and I find myself needing to know what happened to her.
“I also know that kids make mistakes. But they can learn from them, too. And it’s what they do after they mess up that’s important.”
I watch as she plays with the charm on one of her necklaces. The delicate movement of her fingers causes me to involuntarily pull my lip between my teeth.
“Something tells me you did everything you could following that experience to make sure it didn’t happen again. Is my assumption correct?”
“Yes, but I don’t know how it can be. Knowing who I am, that I’m part of the club… I don’t know what Delilah and Harleigh have talked to you about, but I can’t imagine you think we’re anything more than heathens.”
She looks at the ceiling as though carefully considering her next words.
“I will admit I have … opinions of your club, but even then, everyone is different. It wouldn’t be fair of me to judge you the same as I would … say, Royce, for instance.”
I look down at my hands in my lap. After a few moments of silence, I speak again.
“Guilt.”
“I imagine you’ve held your fair share of guilt over what happened between you and the girl.”
“I’ve never stopped feeling guilty. Even when I was with my ex. It wasn’t until I saw you—” I cut myself off before I go too far.
But it’s too late.
The doc’s eyes grow wide, and she looks as though she’s stopped breathing altogether.
Come on, think of something to say to lure her away from the truth. Anyfuckingthing, you dumb ass.
But I can’t form words in my mind, let alone on my lips. All I can do is sit here with the image of her in her bed fingering herself, clear as day in the front of my mind.
“Draven… Were you watching me the other night? Outside my bedroom?”
With one hand at her throat and the other pressing into her stomach, she waits for confirmation. Which I give her, without even speaking or moving.
“Oh god…” She gasps, and it sounds an awful lot like it did on the night in question.
My dick hardens painfully. It’s probably purple and pulsating beneath my boxer briefs. I want to tell her it’s okay, that it was my fault because I was snooping around where I shouldn’t have been, but she speaks first.
“I think you’re right. This isn’t a good fit. I-I can’t be your therapist.”
She shoots out of her seat and rounds the sofa, leaving the room.
“Wait—” I don’t hesitate to follow her, hurdling over the back of the sofa to catch up with her, tented pants and all.
Rearranging myself as I shuffle around the corner, I catch her just as she grips the doorknob of the front door. I wrap my hand around hers and squeeze, but not hard enough to hurt her. Losing all control, I’m unable to deny myself any longer. Pressing my body up against hers, I wriggle my erection between her ass cheeks and nuzzle my face into her hair, inhaling her scent as my lips find their way to her ear.
“Reckless.” I whisper another emotion I’m feeling. “Desire. Like I’ve never felt before, until two nights ago.”
Slowly, she loosens her hold on the doorknob and turns around to face me.
“Draven, we?—”
Her sexy voice is breathy before I cut her off. I don’t need her to say what we both know to be true—that we shouldn’t be doing this. But fuck it. We’ll deal with the fallout later.
Pressing my lips to hers, I finally grab hold of her hair the way I’ve wanted to for so long. I’ve never felt such sweet ecstasy as when she opens her mouth, allowing our tongues to intertwine with one another. She tastes like coffee and a happiness I never thought I’d feel.
Turning the lock into place, I break our kiss yet barely remove my lips from hers. Letting her know I’m not finished with her, I flatten my hand against her chest and gently rest my fingers around the base of her throat.
“What time is your next appointment due to be here?”
“Not until five,” she pants.
My fingers skim their way to her chest as I close my mouth over hers again. Running my hands down her body, I grip her ass before lifting her into my arms and starting toward the door at the opposite end of the hall. I open it then press her back into the wall next to the stairs. Rubbing my cock against her core through our pants revs both of us up in the most dangerous way.
I won’t be able to get up the stairs fast enough.
I need her.
And I need her now.