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She tapped on her fingers as she recited her list. “Wanting to spice up your sex life with your partner. Processing a sexual trauma from your past. Dealing with sexual dysfunction. Dealing with LBGTQ issues. Low confidence in the bedroom. Learning to cope with an STD. Unwanted sexual fetishes. Overactive sex drive. Inability to control sexual behavior. Learning to communicate better with your partner through touch and sexual acts. The list goes on, mister—I mean, Hawk.”
Her lips quivered slightly. “All I’m saying is that there’s no shame in wanting to discuss certain themes related to sex. And no subject is off-limits. I’ve heard it all before. Sometimes all one needs is someone to talk to.”
I should have booked an appointment with the plastic surgeon instead, using my scars as an excuse. At least I wouldn’t have had to talk much in those consults.
I could do this. Come up with a lie. Anything would do.
I resisted the urge to shift in my seat. I had been through some weird shit in my life, but this was by far the most uncomfortable. But, as always, I kept control over my posture. Don’t show weakness. Never show weakness. “The last one. The communicate-through-touch one.”
Even a different type of shrink would have been better. Maybe the family therapist. It was easy to make up a fake family and a bunch of drama. But when I had chosen the sex shrink, I figured if I had to talk to someone for an hour, it might as well be about something fun. But now, I was painting myself as a weirdo with a sexual problem. What if Lila found out? Would she think I was a pervert? Or worse, impotent?
Fucking dumb move, Hawk.
I hadn’t been able to think straight since she had wrapped her arms around me. It was as if she had never let go. My mind constantly yanked me back to visions of her throughout the day.
“Good,” the phallic-obsessed shrink said as she jotted down some notes, all hints of nerves disappearing “And who is it you want to improve your touch language with?”
Oh great, now I had to come up with more bullshit for this fake session. Improve my touch language? What a fucking joke. I was an expert in communicating nonverbally. I knew exactly how to show a woman what I wanted using my hands and tongue.
I was never much of a talker to begin with, unless it involved business dealings. Even then, I preferred to communicate with my fists.
“No one, just in general, I guess,” I said, keeping my tone neutral.
“That’s fine. You don’t have to tell me yet. So, how do you like to be touched, Hawk?”
The fuck! I ain’t telling you shit, lady.“None of your business.”
“Isee.” She dragged out the word in a way that pissed me off while she jotted down notes.
I wanted to rip the notepad from her hands to see what she was writing about me. But normal people didn’t do that.
Right?
I balled up my hands into fists and waited.
“In that case, Hawk, let’s discuss how women communicate through touch.”
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. Anything to get this hour over with.
“As I’m sure you’ve experienced yourself, when men get horny, they want someone to touch their penis. However, it’s not the same for women. They need a build-up before you dive in for the vagina…”
Kill me now.
“…it’s important that you caress other parts of her body before getting to the erogenous zones. But, of course, every woman is different and has favorite spots on her person that she wants, even needs, to be touched…”
My mind instantly was filled with curiosity about Lila and her preferences. I knew where I craved to touch her.
Everywhere.
Every single inch of her. I wouldn’t neglect any part of her if I got her into my bed. I nearly lost control back in the elevator a few minutes ago.
Fuck, I was getting hard again. I grabbed one of the throw pillows from the couch and hugged it awkwardly. There was only one reason for men to hug a goddamn pillow. And the sex shrink sure as shit knew why.
This was a mistake. Why was I even still here?
Why had I looked for Lila in the first place? Christ, I didn’t think I’d find her so easily on my first visit. I figured I’d have to roam around in search of her office after my session. But the first thing I saw when I walked through the main entrance was her gorgeous hips swaying ahead of me toward the elevator.
Lila wore her hair down today. The dark brown locks had practically begged me to grab a fistful. I wanted to pin her to the wall. My body ached to push into her softness.
