by Jillian Neal
“A triggered panic attack or a flashback. Those are very common. You can show her how to calm herself down the same way I taught you if you’d like to.”
“Yeah, I taught her the song lyric one. That one works the best for me. She likes the counting one. But I want this to be perfect. I don’t want her to have to sit there rocking back and forth counting and me to sit there with my eyes closed remembering the lyrics to Goo Goo Dolls, ya know?”
“I do know, but might be best to deal with where both of you are instead of wishing you were someone else. Might also mean a great deal to her if you show her how much you understand what she’s going through. And the Goo Goo Dolls, come on, their lyrics are outstanding examples of humanity.” Dec had discovered that wrapping wisdom within the heart of lightness, in this case the Goo Goo Dolls, eased Matt and helped the pill go down a little easier.
“Yeah, I know. I’d just like to give her one night where she doesn’t have to remember any of that.”
Gutted. His job absolutely gutted him on a daily basis, and he’d never give it up. He deserved it, and more than anything else he needed to help these people. Helping them kept the constant cravings at bay.
“A more than worthy goal, but might be asking a lot of the universe. Not saying it’s impossible, just saying let’s take it moment by moment and take some of the pressure off.”
“Moment by moment. Yeah, I get that. If you add up enough moments it could be a pretty great night.”
“Indeed.”
“How do I know if. . .you know. . .she wants me to do something I’m not doing or stop doing something I am doing?” Panic set in quickly. Kid was nineteen years old. What had been inflicted upon him had stunted his development. It always did. It stunted it, but nothing could stop it. Matt wasn’t even sure what he was trying to ask. He just knew there were things his hormones desperately wanted that his mind had no idea how to go about obtaining in a healthy way, or what to do with it if he should actually get it.
“You remember when I taught you to play the intro to Slide?”
“Yeah, I can do it perfect now.”
Dec grinned at that. “You can, but do you remember my advice when you kept tripping over the arpeggios?”
“Yeah, you said take a deep breath, relax my shoulders, and go really, really slowly until I had it just right. And if I messed up to stop immediately and slow down again until I got it right.”
“And why is it important to slow down when you realized you might’ve played it incorrectly?”
“Because you can get really good at playing it the wrong way.”
“All excellent advice for your first date as well, my friend.”
Matt’s smile returned. “You also told me too much of my pick was sticking out. That won’t be happening on this date.” He laughed.
“There is a reason you’re one of my favorite patients,” Dec chuckled.
“Bet you say that to everyone. Any other advice? I really want Megan to have a good time.”
“Well, what does Megan like to do?”
“Read. A lot. And also she draws these amazing pictures of like fairy things and stuff. They’re incredible. They look real.”
Dec shouldn’t have gotten so attached to Matthew. He’d already broken a half dozen arbitrary doctor-client privilege rules. He’d met Matt in a parking lot on the rougher side of town two months ago when he was grappling with all that he’d been through. Three weeks before that he’d gone back to his aunt’s home, desperate for closure that he would never receive. When he’d finally figured that out, he’d snapped. The cops had come. So had Dec. He’d managed to talk the officers out of an arrest and had sat with Matt on the cold sidewalk for hours, talking him through things as best as he could.
Psychotherapy didn’t always fit neatly inside a one hour, three days a week box. Life just didn’t work that way. Sometimes it was more than one could bear, inconveniently and often arbitrarily. Dec didn’t believe in only being available for his patients during business hours. Any psychologist worth their salt knew it was the night time phone calls, the gut-wrenching screams when the light of day had abandoned them to darkness was when it really mattered.
“I can’t think about anything but how bad I want to hug her, and maybe kiss her if she wants me to, and it wouldn’t trigger anything. I don’t know where to take her. I haven’t been able to think straight since she agreed to go out with me.”
This was precisely why Dec was quite certain he didn’t really have a heart anymore. It had been utterly decimated far too many times.
“Deep breath. Relaxed shoulders. Nice and slow.”
Matt gave him a begrudged nod. “I kept kinda thinking maybe I could take her somewhere to dance. You know, then I could kind of be near her, just hold her close or whatever, but not make her think of anything else.”
“How old is Megan?”
“Nineteen, same as me. Her birthday is May 17th and mine’s April 17th. She thinks that’s cool. Girls think the weirdest shit is cool.”
Dec couldn’t help but chuckle. “There’s an entire pseudo-science based on the belief that there is a relationship between numbers and coinciding events. Her thinking that’s cool isn’t so weird.”
“She’s way smarter than me, too. She probably knows about what you just said. What do you think about the dancing idea?”
“Sounds like a solid plan to me. Neither of you are old enough for bars, but there have to be a few places you could take her where you only have to be eighteen to party. No drinking, though. Understand?”
“No drinking. I know, Doc. I don’t know why you care so much. No one else ever has.”
“That isn’t true. Your mother cares very much, not that you give her credit there. You are worth being cared about, Matt. That’s why I care. And I still say Megan is an incredibly lucky girl to have you to care about her.”
Chapter Eight
Holly grinned as soon as she saw Dec’s bike pull into the lot of Trace’s. By the time he made his way inside, every cell in her body felt like it had been strung on a livewire. She’d never had such a strong physical reaction to anyone. His low-cut, v-neck, grey t-shirt showed off a peek of the tattoos on his chest and his left arm along with his impressive biceps and pecs. He was wearing a leather necklace with some kind of silver pendant she hadn’t noticed before. His low-slung tattered jeans were rubbed in all of the perfect places, all of the places Holly desperately wanted to rub. They pulled at his substantial thighs and hugged his enviable ass. God, she couldn’t wait to run her hands over every chiseled plain. Her mouth went dry and her palms began to sweat. She quickly sat the carafe of coffee she was carrying on the counter.
Declan offered her a sexy-as-sin grin while he performed his customary deep breath after entering the coffee shop.
“The view here has certainly improved, Trace. You should see if you can keep her around.” He winked at Holly behind the counter.
“I’ve tried to hire her every semester but she’s too. . . . ” Trace explained and Holly promptly panicked.
“I’m a terrible waitress. I’ve already spilled coffee on one lady’s white pants. I’m so glad you stopped by.”
“Couldn’t keep myself away. I needed to see you.”
Holly’s stomach flipped in elation at that while she prayed Dec hadn’t picked up on the word semester. “I’ll leave it to Trace in about an hour when the evening crowd dies down. Tea, I’m guessing?”
The furrow of Dec’s brow said he’d noted her forced interruption. Trace also looked thoroughly confused. Thankfully, he said nothing else.
“I’ll take most anything you’re serving, love.”
“I’ll bring it over.”
When Dec found a table by the back windows, Holly turned on Trace. “I don’t want him to know I’m a student yet.”
“Yeah, I got that. Dec won’t care that you’re younger than him, sweetheart. My wife was eight years younger than me.”
“That’s not it. Wait. How old is
he?”
“And if he asks me the same thing about you, am I allowed to tell him?”
“No.”
“Then leave me out of this. I’m not sure anyway. I just know he’s a good bit older than you.”
“Age is not the problem. I just want him to get to know me slowly. I want him to trust me.”
“You want him to trust you, but you don’t want him to know anything real about you? You’re smarter than that, Holly.”
“Yeah, well, this is complicated.”
“That’s what they all say,” Trace sighed as he went about wiping down the marble countertop.
Holly fixed Dec’s tea, complete with a splash of milk that she hoped wasn’t too much.
“I could definitely get used to the sight of you in an apron, love,” he goaded as she approached.
“Oh yeah?” She set the tea down on his table, stepped back and swayed her hips, making the skirt portion of her dress tied up under a black waist apron swish seductively. “And what might you do with me in an apron, Mr. St. James?”
A quick confused grin creased Declan’s face before he rearranged his features and cocked his pierced eyebrow up. “So many things. How are you with a feather duster?”
Holly couldn’t help but giggle. “Fantasy of yours, I take it?”
“I keep telling you, if you’re giving I’m taking.”
“Seems like the strings of an apron would make great tie-ups, too.” Holly watched closely to see what he did with that.
“Fantasy of yours, I take it?” He tugged gently on the strings of her apron, teasing her, stirring the need swimming in her veins. “One I’d be more than happy to take care of.”
“I’m hoping.”
“Oh, honey, I doubt you even want to know the decidedly dirty things I’ve fantasized about doing to you all damn day. I plan to spend my evening watching the sexiest barista in the Midwest serve coffee. Instead of writing music, I’ll be conjuring all kinds of deliciously scandalous things I long to do with you.”
Holly swore every time he spoke her entire body vibrated to the tune of his bravado and hunger. She wasn’t going to survive until Friday. She simply couldn’t make it that long without having his hands on her, inside of her, touching her, marking her, owning her. Whatever kinds of scandalous things he wanted to do, she was all for it.
Trace insisted he could close up on his own and shooed Dec and Holly out the door at 9:00.
“You really don’t have to watch Bogie and Bacall with me,” Holly offered.
“Why wouldn’t I want to watch it with you?”
Because there are about a million far more interesting things we could be doing. “I don’t know. Guys usually don’t like old movies.”
“I like being with you. The rest is just icing on the cake, darling. Did you ask Trace if you could keep the apron?”
“Didn’t figure we’d need it tonight since you’re hung up on the one-week rule.”
“I’m not hung up on anything, except maybe you. Patience, anticipation, desire, remember?”
“Oh, I remember,” Holly vowed as she unlocked her apartment door. Dec was loaded down with his DVD player and the movie he’d sweetly purchased.
While he set up the DVD player, she poured two glasses of wine, popped a bag of popcorn in her microwave, and settled on the sofa, wondering what to talk about since her morning was out. Trace was right. She eventually needed to tell him she was a psych student, but he was an addict. What if he thought she was only dating him to analyze him?
Besides, her current preoccupation about how exactly she might be able to go down on him while he wore his piercing had her deciding she could tell him next week. Or the week after that. Or any time after Friday night.
He joined her on the sofa with a smirk. “Just so you know, this little dress you’re wearing is driving me to distraction. Can’t seem to think about anything but getting my hands under that skirt.”
“Then that definitely tops the list of things I love about this dress. Don’t stop yourself on my account.”
She watched his eyes darken dramatically. He licked his lips. She loved the look in his eyes that said it was taking everything he had to keep from stripping her bare and taking her so hard she could feel it for days to come. Since coming was definitely what she was after she scooted closer, hoping to amp his desire.
“Holly, darling, you are just absolutely irresistible.”
“Then don’t resist.” She whispered the words across his lips as she leaned in. He captured her breaths and her mouth with his own. A tortured moan reverberated against her tongue as he began to suck gently. His hands threaded in her hair, guiding her closer still. She touched his face, memorizing the feel of the stubble on his jawline.
Without thought, she climbed over him, feeling his cock harden against her as she began to grind.
“Fucking hell,” he groaned as his head fell back, and she moved faster.
He lifted his head. His dark grey eyes were greedy with lust. His hands slid up her thighs, kneading a path towards her ass. His touch was electric against her skin. She leaned in for another kiss.
His wanton little cowgirl loved to be kissed. Dec already knew this. He just couldn’t fathom how each and every kiss slipped down his throat and wrapped itself around his cock. She pressed that sweet little snatch against him, rocking up and down, wrecking him thoroughly.
His control slipped with every motion, with every sexy sound she made. The kiss ignited into a wild, frenzied feast.
“Gonna ride me, cowgirl? Gonna ride me and show me how sweet you come?”
Pressing his hands higher under her skirt he located her delicious ass, completely exposed in the thong she was wearing. She cried out for him, rocking faster. Oh hell yeah. “You like that, don’t you?” Gripping her firmly, he pressed her to his hard on, rocking against her, meeting her grind for grind. “Did you wear these naughty panties so I could grab your sweet little ass? I think you did. You like my hands right here, don’t you?”
She moaned something unintelligible. Always a good sign. Any man that vowed that he knew how to make any woman come or knew everything they desired was a conceited asshole with less than half a brain. Oh, but you could learn. Those addictively sexy sounds and gasps, the way they moved, what you might get them to admit once you’d created a safe space for their desires, where the heat settled in their bodies, those were the cipher to the complicated truths of a woman. Ever changing, ever needing, always variant, but constantly there if one just listened and paid very close attention.
Gauging her as he plied her ass and bit at her lips, he began to unfold the complicated, intricate details of Holly. Given the way she threw her hair back and rode him with wild abandon he knew she liked being watched, which worked out perfectly because he desperately wanted to view. She also deeply enjoyed him verbalizing precisely what she wanted. Understanding meant something to her, and Declan understood every sign.
“I want to see, darling. Let me see how wet you get for me.” Using his right hand, he gathered the flowy material of her dress and pulled it upward to reveal her wet satin panties. The sight wrenched a low guttural growl up from his gut. She pressed in with more vigor, clawing at his shirt, trying to cling to her sanity. Her restraint long gone, just the way he wanted her.
His cock was an iron spike against her. Her wild cries said his piercing was hitting just the right satin-covered spot. “That’s it, isn’t it? Right there. Gonna feel so good deep inside of you, too. Ride me, cowgirl. Hard. I want to watch you come for me.” Dec was going to lose it. What the hell was she doing to him? How could he possibly be so close still fully clothed? He gripped her ass with one hand and moved the other to her right breast, squeezing her lace-covered nipple between his thumb and index finger. His cowgirl liked it rough. He was more than happy to provide.
“Oh God, oh God, Dec, yes,” blended into a symphony of indecipherable carnality. The rest was pure noise as she began to tremble.
Heat streaked h
er face. Her musk perfumed the air and flooded his lungs in his rapid breaths. He wanted to drown in it, to be fully consumed by her orgasm.
“Give it to me, sweetheart. Let me have it. It’s all for me. All mine.”
His commanding thrum had the desired effect. Her entire body tensed with a gasped scream of pure pleasure that erupted from her core. Collapsing against him, she buried her face against his neck. He wrapped her up in his arms, making her a sanctuary in him, a place to feel that level of pleasure without any judgment.
God, she’d come so damn hard fully clothed. He’d never seen anything like it. Whatever was going on between them was explosive and more powerful than anything he’d ever experienced. What if he never got enough of watching her do that at his command?
“That was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, sweetheart. I’m going to want to watch you come undone every single day. That okay with you?”
When she finally lifted her head, her hair was mussed, her eyes half-opened, her lips kiss-swollen and ripe, and the heat coursing through her body settled high in her cheeks. She looked good and fucked, and Dec amended his decree. Her climax was most beautiful sunrise in existence, but the look of his sweet little sex-kitten thoroughly satisfied had to be the most stunning of sunsets.
“Little embarrassed I didn’t even make it through the annoying previews.”
Chuckling as he kept her cradled safely in his arms, he shook his head. “Don’t be. You come so sweet, love. God, it’s spectacular. There are so many ways I want to make you do that over and over again.”
“Yeah, I want that, too. I can’t seem to think about anything other than the things I want to do with you.”
“You name them, one by one, we’ll explore them all. I want to know the things you’re afraid to admit to anyone, the things you think of when it’s just you and that adorable little butterfly vibrator.”
