Man of Honor (Passion in Paradise Book 4)

by Sarah O'Rourke

  Honor offered the doctor a shy half smile. "No, I don't. At any rate, I'm certainly not lookin’ for him," she denied softly. "Besides, Zeke doesn't want to be my Prince Charming, Dr. Daniels. Prince Charming is only interested in finding happily-ever-after with his fair and untouched princess. First, Ezekiel isn't that superficial; if you asked him, he'd tell you that prince fella was a pansy. And second, he knows good and well that I don't believe in fairy tales."

  Bree Daniels fought a laugh at her patient's assessment of what most women considered to be the quintessential fantastical hero and instead focused on asking another probing question. "Then who is Zeke for you, Honor? How do you see him?"

  Honor offered the other woman a long, considering look before she answered. Finally, she lifted a hand to touch the dreamcatcher necklace Zeke had given her for Valentine’s Day. "Zeke is the dark knight that would willingly walk into the fires of Hell for me no matter how hot the flames burned down there. I'm pretty sure that Prince Charming and his trusty steed would let me roast and move on to the next available maiden. Zeke wouldn't do that. Actually, when I think on it, Zeke hasn’t done that. Even when I begged him to do exactly that."

  "Well, when you put it in that context, I think a wise woman would choose the Dark Knight over the Perfect Prince any day of the week, wouldn't she, Miss McKinnon?" the therapist mused with a knowing smile.

  "Smug isn't a very flattering color on you, Dr. Daniels," Honor declared with a frown.

  Bree chuckled. “If it helps, I don’t think you’re ready yet for what Zeke wants either. One day? Maybe. But there’s a lot of work for you to do first. You need to experience some things, Honor. Things that most women your age have already had the pleasure of feeling.”

  “Like what?” Honor asked suspiciously.

  “Like self-pleasuring. A young woman of your age should know what a satisfying sexual release feels like even if it is given to herself. You need to date – and not just Zeke. I know you have feelings for him, and that’s wonderful. But how will you know if those feelings that you have are what they’re supposed to be if you don’t at least go out on a few dates with other men.”

  “Uhhh, I’m not sure…” Honor quickly began to balk.

  “I’m not saying you need to have sex with them or anyone. Just share a meal in a public place. Meet for a movie or a coffee. Go for a walk in the park. Anything would count, Honor. Then, you can compare how much you enjoy the company of others to what you feel when you’re with Zeke.”

  “I…”

  “Let’s talk about goals, Honor. What do you want to be able to have achieved, say, at the end of six months?”

  “Six months?” Honor echoed unhappily.

  Bree smiled again. “Yes, six months. Seriously, if you give me six months of dedicated therapy and hard work, I promise you, you’re going to come out of this a much happier, confident young woman. But you’ve got to be willing to do the work.”

  Honor sighed deeply. “Fine. How many goals do you want?”

  “Let’s start with three,” Bree suggested.

  “Well, there’s the obvious. I’d like to try and work through what happened eight years ago and find a way to make my peace with it.”

  “That’s a good one,” Bree agreed. “Keep going.”

  “I suppose I’d like to feel a bit more comfortable with my body. You know, looking at it with all my scars.”

  Bree continued to nod, jotting that goal down. “Another great idea.”

  “And I suppose I want to try and figure out if I can actually have the life I always wanted before all this happened to me,” Honor mumbled, staring down at her lap again.

  “What kind of life was that?” Bree asked, keeping her voice gentle.

  “You know. Marriage. Family. A baby,” Honor choked. “I always wanted to be a momma, Bree. My own momma always said I was a born mother. Aunt Orla, too. I don’t wanna let those men rob me of that if I can help it.”

  Leaning forward, Bree reached over to squeeze Honor’s hand. “Then by Heaven, let’s make sure you get it. Then, you can go sing my praises to the good people of this fair community. They aren’t exactly warm and fuzzy with newcomers, but I feel sure that they’ll trust one of their town treasures.”

  “This is Paradise, Bree. It’s a land where grease is its own food group, sweet tea is the beverage of choice no matter the occasion, church on Sunday morning is required, not requested, and the name, John Deere is more revered than Barack Obama’s. These are not people that will accept therapy easily. But I’ll help spread the word that you’re the real deal. And let me be the first to officially welcome you to your new home, Dr. Daniels. It’s a country community where crazy could possibly be found right around most every corner, but we like to keep it confined to the front porch as much as we can. Maybe you should consider adding house calls to your list of available services.”

  Bree couldn’t contain her laugh at Honor’s suggestion as a bell dinged from the corner of her desk. “And on that note, Miss McKinnon, time’s up for today.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Monday, June 27, 2016

  10:00 am

  Honor

  Days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into a month, and before Honor had realized it, she’d been in therapy with Bree for seven weeks. Seven very long, very hard, but ultimately very rewarding weeks. Rewarding because Bree was right, Honor was feeling better. About herself and life in general.

  Oh, therapy wasn’t a magical fix for what ailed her and she still had miles to go before she’d feel emotionally healthy, but no one could deny that definite progress had been made during those bi-weekly sessions.

  Yes, every Monday and Friday for ninety minutes, Honor sat in Dr. Aubrey Daniels’ office and talked about her feelings. Which feelings, though?...one might ask.

  Unfortunately for Honor, Aubrey Daniels required her patients to talk about all of them. Yep, every freaking feeling she possessed about the last several years was taken out and examined, dissected and analyzed.

  With most of her feelings, she’d learned to relax enough to open up and share. After all, she’d finally come to terms with the fact that if she was going to pay her hard earned money to talk to a professional, she might as well get some bang for her buck and unload some of the emotional baggage she’d been carrying around for almost a decade. She’d shared everything she could remember about the endless hours she’d spent being kidnapped, gang raped and nearly murdered with her surprisingly compassionate psychiatrist. Thankfully, Bree wasn’t cold and clinical like those doctors she’d been forced to see in the hospital eight years ago. Instead, her doctor was approachable and empathetic. She was sensitive to Honor’s limits, but insistent that her patient try to keep pushing them forward.

  The good news was that the hard work hadn’t been in vain. Honor had been able to remember more pieces of her ordeal – pieces that she hoped could eventually help Zeke track down the remaining jackals that had savaged her. In addition to the breakthrough of remembering that two of the men must have been brothers, she’d also been able to recall one of them saying he could buy and sell everyone there and for the money he’d paid to join the fun, he ought to get some personal, private time alone with their ‘playmate’. Honor still shuddered as she recalled those words – as if she’d consented to be their partner in those sick and twisted games.

  The good news, if you could call it that, was that where she’d felt mostly humiliation and shame about her ordeal when she’d first met with Bree seven weeks ago, now that sentiment had been replaced by a kind of throbbing anger that burned like acid in the deepest part of her. She wanted those bastards found, and she wanted them punished for what they’d done to her.

  Because through intensive counseling, she’d finally been able to understand that she hadn’t done anything wrong that long ago night she’d been taken off the street. It shouldn’t have mattered that she’d been wearing a short cheerleading uniform or that despite Aunt Orla’s order for Hono
r to stay by the football stadium and wait for her ride, she’d walked down to the stop sign at the end of the road near the high school where she’d seen Zeke and Sherry. Nobody had the right to do what had been done to her. She’d been a teenager, and teenagers were notorious for making stupid choices. That didn’t mean that they earned a brutal assault and rape.

  Heck, no!

  Therapy had also helped Honor work through her feelings of misguided betrayal where Zeke and that long ago night were concerned. When she’d done as Bree had advised her to do and looked back on the events that led to her kidnapping with an unemotional eye, she could clearly see that while Zeke had driven away and left her there on the sidewalk beside the road, she’d told him to go. She’d told him her family was on their way, and he’d taken her at her word. It had been her decision not to climb inside the vehicle with him and his girlfriend at the time. In hindsight, it had been the wrong choice, but that had never been Zeke’s fault.

  Bree had been right during their first session together when she’d said that Honor was looking at the whole terrible ordeal through the eyes of the woman she was now rather than the girl she had been then and that had skewed her perception of events dramatically. The problem for Honor, though, was that the woman she was now still remained very much confused about her feelings where Ezekiel Monroe was concerned. However, Honor could admit – if only to herself and Bree – that she did look back on that exchange she’d had with Zeke eight years ago and feel jealous of Sherry.

  Last week, Bree had asked her to think about why that was, and Honor had finally shared her answer with the other woman this morning. And the answer was simple. She could finally admit it was because Sherry had been with Zeke in a way Honor never had… and still wasn’t entirely sure she ever could.

  And that knowledge burned.

  Because the idea of any woman sharing Zeke’s body or bed in the past or present tense was enough to make Honor want to gouge her eyes out with hot pokers.

  Honor had also begun to reluctantly process that while Zeke might have once enjoyed a different element to his sex life… one she still didn’t quite understand how he’d been able to enjoy it… that didn’t mean that he couldn’t develop different tastes. More sedate tastes. Bree had explained that often men sexually experimented with a variety of things before settling into a lifestyle they enjoyed. BDSM was often one of the many practices that guys liked to investigate; it didn’t mean it had to be a permanent life choice.

  Happier, but still plenty perplexed by the whole sex thing, Honor had decided to simply concentrate her energy on getting herself healthy before she tackled figuring out whether things could work on a more intimate level with Zeke. Because currently, things between her and the sheriff were pretty dang good. Calmer. Steadier. They’d fallen into a comfortable rhythm sharing their lives and a house together. And she liked it. She liked it a lot more than she probably should - especially given the fact that she hadn’t offered him the commitment he’d freely let her know he wanted. But Zeke was unflinchingly patient and had agreed that she needed this time to get better without any relationship pressure from him.

  Oh, she still got those scorching goodnight kisses from him at night since neither of them seemed capable of giving those up. Outside of that, however, things remained comfortably platonic.

  And when Honor had arrived for her appointment early Monday morning, she’d thought this would simply be another week of talking through her feelings. She should have figured that just when she was getting used to things, her crafty counsellor would find a way to jerk the rug out from under her.

  And today, during Honor’s session with Bree, the infuriatingly forthright therapist had decided to up the treatment ante yet again with one of her crazy homework assignments.

  Oh, yes….because Bree had decided that this week’s sessions were going to revolve around Honor beginning to see herself as a sexual being and taking control of her own body… and orgasm.

  To say that Honor was less than thrilled about the new direction counseling had taken was… to say the least… an understatement.

  ~***~

  Earlier that morning in the office of Dr. Aubrey Daniels

  “Absolutely not! I won’t do it!” Honor’s loud denial rang through the otherwise silent office as Dr. Aubrey Daniels simply leaned back in her chair and stared at her. “I can’t, Bree!” Pacing the length of the elegant office, Honor continued shaking her head, her high blonde ponytail bouncing with every energetic step. “This is insane. I don’t need to have an orgasm!”

  “Every woman needs an orgasm every now and then, Honor. The fact is, you don’t know what you’re missing! The woman’s vagina is filled with nerves just waiting to be pleasurably stimulated.”

  Whirling on her heels to face the doctor, Honor glared. “Look, you feel free to stimulate your lady business whenever you take a fancy. Mine is quite happy being left alone!”

  “Honor, the way you avoid touching your body isn’t healthy. We need to work on changing that.”

  “Look,” Honor huffed, dropping her hands to the gathered waist of the ice blue dress she wore today, “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me since I started confounded counseling, haven’t I? I’ve done the shopping for younger looking clothes…”

  “Yes, you did. And you feel much more confident in them, don’t you?” Bree inquired with slightly widened eyes and raised eyebrows.

  “Yes.” Honor clipped through clenched teeth. “But that’s not the point.”

  “Oh, I think it’s entirely the point I was trying to make. You trusted me to steer you in the right direction, did your homework and had a positive outcome. This can work the same way if you let it.”

  “Bree, I can’t just walk into the local Dillard’s and pick up a trusty fake penis!”

  “Actually, I want you to purchase a vibrator. Probably something discreet like a bullet,” she informed her patient knowledgeably. “They’re smaller. More compact.”

  “A bullet,” Honor echoed, blinking slowly. “Like you put in a gun? Because if you think I’m putting anything with gunpowder in it anywhere near my secret garden, you’re nuttier than squirrel poop.”

  “What a colorful analogy,” Bree remarked dryly. “But luckily, I can calm at least one of your fears. The bullet that I refer to isn’t the same as the bullets that are used to fire from guns.” Leaning forward, she clicked a few buttons on the laptop perched on the coffee table in front of the sofa where Honor usually sat. “Take a look,” she directed, nodding toward the computer screen as Honor took a few steps forward to peer down at the webpage Bree had pulled up. “That’s a Bullet vibrator, Honor. As you can see, it’s a similar size to a gun’s bullet, but that is where the similarity ends. It’s battery operated and can be adjusted to a variety of speeds. It provides direct clitoral stimulation which, as I’ve explained before, is how most women experience an orgasm. ”

  Clasping her hands together tightly as she began to pace again, Honor made a revolted face. “Please stop callin’ it that?”

  “What? Clitoral? Clitoris? Clit?” Bree questioned, watching Honor calmly when the other woman hissed in an irritated breath.

  “You do that on purpose,” Honor accused as she shot the other woman a narrow look.

  “I absolutely do.”

  “It just sounds so dirty,” Honor grumbled, pausing her pacing to stand and stare out the window that overlooked the highway.

  “It’s not,” Bree reminded the younger woman gently. “Neither is self-pleasure. In fact, it can be very relaxing. The endorphins that are released after…”

  Throwing up a hand, Honor interrupted. “Bree, I know this. You’ve said it before and I heard every word. I understand the chemistry and biology of it. It’s just… the idea of experiencing that kind of pleasure…it’s…it’s…” Honor searched for a word.

  “Scary? Intimidating?”

  “Yes!” Honor agreed quickly, her eyes lighting up when Bree vocalized exactly the sentiment sh
e was trying to find.

  “The unknown usually is both scary and intimidating. It doesn’t mean it isn’t worth exploring. Listen, it’s like this. You never knew you loved to cook until…what?”

  Cocking her head, Honor shrugged. “Until I got in the kitchen with Momma and Aunt Orla and started throwing ingredients together.”

  “You took a leap of faith and dove into the experience, right?”

  Honor nodded.

  Bree continued watching her patient as Honor’s face slowly changed into a look of realization.

  Bree chuckled at Honor’s muttered, “Well, crap.”

  “Is that the sound of a concession to cede to your therapist’s more experienced judgment that I hear?”

  “Fine,” Honor whined. “Where do I get one of these bullet doohickeys? And it can’t be within a thirty mile radius of home,” she added heatedly. “If I’m walkin’ in some sin den to get one of these things, I’m not riskin’ runnin’ into somebody I might know! With my luck, it’d be somebody I’ll have to see at church on Sunday morning,” she mumbled woefully.

  “Actually, one of my sorority sisters that majored in female studies has opened up a tasteful little boutique in Gatlinburg that caters to exactly the shopping list you’ll need to purchase.”

  “There’s a list?” Honor asked flatly, her earlier positive mood now long gone.

  Holding out a slip of paper toward Honor, Bree nodded. “I just thought I’d have you get a few things while you were there for future assignments.”

  “Oh, sweet Jesus,” Honor muttered weakly as her eyes scanned the short handwritten list. “What in the world is ‘Love Amidst the Pear Trees’? I swear, Bree! This better be a movie on somebody’s fondness of farming pears or we’re gonna have a problem!”

  “Actually, it’s a short erotic vid that a few of my former patients have found especially freeing.”

  Honor closed her eyes and silently counted to ten while she reminded herself of all the people that would miss Aubrey Daniels if she gave into temptation and knocked her over the head with the heavy paperweight she kept on the corner of her desk. It really wasn’t very smart of her to goad her patients into a homicidal rage and then leave handy murder weapons just sitting in plain view.