“I’m sorry you didn’t have that,” I said.
He nodded against me. “I had my aunt. Now I have you. And…Maria and the kids. I’m not alone.”
I guided his mouth to mine and kissed him until I couldn’t breathe. “Don’t you ever forget that.”
He bit into my lip gently, his fingers clawing at my ass. That special dark glint in his eyes promised sexy times.
“Speaking of making sure certain people get what they need, I have a number for you to call. Dr. Howard is one of the best in his field and specializes in childhood trauma. Promise me you’ll set up an appointment soon?”
His expression dropped, his body turning rigid. But we had to work on the hard stuff as much as we didn’t want to. “He sounds expensive.”
“I told you I’d take care of you and that includes professional help,” I countered.
“I know, but… you’re supporting me, paying for my school stuff—”
“It’s not an issue. I can afford it.”
He looked away and mumbled, “You shouldn’t have to.”
I recalled what he’d said about me not letting him push me away. I was slightly angry and said sternly, “Should I spend my money on another damn designer shirt? Maybe a third car, then?”
His soulful eyes broke my heart, and I gathered him back into my arms. I hadn’t meant to get frustrated with him. It would take me some time to learn his triggers and the signs of him withdrawing. I framed his face with my hands. “You’re worth it, damn it and I’m going to prove it to you, baby boy. Tell me you’re worth it, I want to hear you say it.”
“I’m… I’m worth it,” he said, trying to look away. I knew he didn’t believe it, but I’d work every day to convince him of the fact.
“I love you. I just want you to be happy,” I muttered.
“I know. I’m so happy with you I want to avoid the stuff that makes me sad.” He bit his lip in thought. “But… what if you went with me?”
“To therapy?”
“Yeah… It might help you understand me a little better.”
“That’s not a bad idea. But initially, I want you to work on you, okay? Give it a little time then we will look into talking to someone together.”
“It’s not very sexy and fun talking about all my crap, is it?” He asked dejectedly.
“I don’t know, tough discussions often lead to feels, then…” I kissed him again, swiping my tongue across his bottom lip. “Sexy times?”
“Okay, so you’re probably right about that, but… while we’re talking about hard stuff—I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Why—You haven’t talked about…public sex since bringing it up at Christmas,” he started. “I, ah…”
I smiled ruefully and slipped on the stool next to him. I took his hands. “Because I’m afraid I’ll lose you over it.”
I supposed it wasn’t all that different when he’d stressed over hiding his need to wear women's underwear. I focused on his ruddy knuckles, skimming my thumb over them, terrified this might be the last time I held his talented hands.
His gaze was contemplative as he bumped his knees against mine. “I don’t want to go away. Can I ask some questions?”
“Sure, baby boy.”
Furrowing his brows, I knew he was sorting through everything I’d told him. “You said you…prefer to watch than take part in it?”
“Yeah. I mean, I’m not interested in participating in endless orgies, but I enjoy watching them happen. There is some kind of satisfaction I get from the idea of seeing people in their most vulnerable and raw states. As if…I’m part of a secret. It’s kind of hard to explain.”
“And sometimes you let men have sex with you?”
