RULES OF LOVE (A Navy SEALs Romance) (56 page)

“But it’s not over yet. I was thinking we could take a walk along the coast. Maybe have a session?”

“I hope I’ll be sober enough to do that. But sure,” I agreed.

We thanked Ramona, and he tipped her handsomely. I did get a bit jealous when he gave her a flirty smile, but she really deserved gratitude. She was great. To my surprise, she slipped me her number. I was shocked, but I accepted it, smiling brightly at her.

“She liked you,” he said. “I’m impressed.”

“Maybe she liked us both,” I joked, trying not to imagine having a hot threesome with them.

“Touché.”

I put my glasses on again, mentally prepping myself for a session.

“I love you with those glasses.”

“Thanks. I like them a lot.”

“That girl was lovely, but she ain’t got nothing on you.” Considering she was some sort of a model, I seriously doubted the truth of that. He was teasing, I was sure of it. Though I could admit that if I were a bit taller, I could be a model, too.

“You’re too kind.”

“Just honest.”

“I’ve never conducted a session at the beach. But it’s okay. It’s certainly a relaxed enough setting.”

“It’s one of my favorite places to go. Another thing that inspired me to be rich. I want to retire by the sea,” he said. He glanced at his phone and sighed. “Fiona has been bothering me all day. I have my phone on silent.”

“How are things with her? Have the sessions been helping?” I asked.

“Yeah, a bit. Only for me, though. I have more clarity.”

The sun was fading in the sky, staining the horizon with pink and purple hues. The salty seaweed smell of the ocean filled the limo as we drew closer and closer. We stopped. I squinted my eyes into the sun.

“Pick us up here in an hour,” he said to the driver.

“As you wish, Mr. Carson.”

This beach was no place for a therapy session—it was clearly meant for romance. Couples loitered on the beach, some carrying coolers of wine and picnic hampers. I was glad I had put on my glasses. They offered protection, a screen, so I didn’t try to enjoy this moment with him as though it were a sensuous one.

He looked ahead dreamily, watching the waves lap at the shore.

“The first time I came here, I was young. My parents wouldn’t stop fighting. The first time my dad walked out, I thought it would be the last. But he kept coming back. Somewhere down the line, he ended up with my mother again. They were always in love, but he was stubborn. They brought me here a lot. California has some bittersweet memories for me.”

We began walking side-by-side in the sand. “Did he have an issue letting someone take care of him, too?”

“Yes,” he said. “How did you know?”

“Certain behaviors are learned. Many of yours are,” I replied.

“I didn’t think you were psychic, Doc, but do share.”

I shook my head. “You’re much too open to let anything stop you from being vulnerable forever.”

He was quiet a moment. “You know, Doc, you have a way with words. Do you write?”

“I used to. Now I’m so wrapped up in this dissertation that I can’t stomach it. But back to you,” I said firmly.

“I hate when you do that,” he teased. “You don’t let me avoid anything, do you?”

“No. Now tell me more about your father.”

He shrugged. “What’s there to say? He has a hard work ethic, and he’s pretty stubborn.”

“How often would he leave?”

“Every couple of months or so. He never actually cheated on my mom, but he would have these weird friendships with other women. He couldn’t get enough of being the hero. Maybe that’s why I can’t stop.” He stopped in his tracks and turned to me, cupping my chin gently with his hand. I couldn’t move, paralyzed by desire. His eyes were more exquisite than the stars in the sky beginning to peek over the rainbow horizon.

“Thank you so much for today. But more than that, thank you for everything. You’re a truly incredible young woman. You’ve helped me so much—today’s success wouldn’t have been possible without you. I’m not sure how I can ever repay you.” He breathed in quickly, as if to stop himself.

“Therapy is supposed to help,” I said. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Come on. You’re good at what you do. I’ve only been seeing you a couple of weeks, and I’m able to leave my house at night. Do you know what that means to me?”

He looked so alive —so full of energy. I’d never seen him like this before. Maybe I really was helping him after all. I could get used to his being like this. I wanted so badly to kiss him, to feel his mouth all over mine. But I didn’t. I pulled away gently, trying not to make him feel rejected.

“You have nothing to repay. This is my job. You getting well is reward enough. Now, tell me more about your childhood.”

“What’s there to know? I had a pretty normal life.”

“Your father leaving doesn’t sound normal,” I challenged him.

He sighed. “It wasn’t. But it made me strong.”

“The kind of strong that means no one can take care of you?” I countered.

“Exactly.”

He let me in this time, and I knew that our work together was paying off.

“I never saw the world the way other people did. I didn’t understand the whole working nine-to-five thing just to get by. To me, it simply wasn’t real. I started my own business when I was fifteen, mowing lawns. By the time I was twenty-four, I had taken a lot of business risks. I was a millionaire by thirty.” He was boastful.

“What are you hiding from when you tell me about your money?” I challenged him again, pushing through the veneer.

He sighed. “You’re good, Doc, you’re good.”

“So spill,” I teased, drawing him out.

“I’m ashamed that you saw me nervous before the meeting.”

“It’s my job to see you nervous; no need to be ashamed. You should be proud of the way you handled it. Having post traumatic stress disorder and being around unfamiliar people can be hard, but you did it.”

I knew him so intimately I wasn’t sure I could ever see him the same way again—but it was a good thing. In his secret vulnerability, he was even more powerful and beautiful. We sat in a calm, relaxed silence as the driver took us home. The smell of the sea still clung to my clothes.

He took my hand gently. It was such an innocent move that I accepted it. I smoothed out his big fingers in mine and gave them a squeeze. When I looked up at him, his eyes were closed, a soft smile on his face. I’d never seen him so relaxed.

***

Night had completely fallen by the time we reached the hotel. The bellman left us alone. There was an awkward silence as we stood in front of the elevator. He actually looked a bit nervous. He turned the lights on and sighed.

“Phew. Thank goodness that deal is over. I’m set now.” He was trying to distract himself. He might be flirty, but he was a loyal person. He wasn’t the type to cheat on his partner. “Would you like a hot drink before bed?” he asked.

“Sure,” I replied, trying not to think about how dangerous a situation it could be, drinking alone in a room with him. Not because he would harm me, but because the sexual tension building between us was so thick it was nearly visible, almost like smog.

He gave me my drink. Hot brandy with cinnamon. It was good.

“We should have had our session in here,” I said. “It’s a good spot.”

“Well, I don’t mix business with pleasure.”
Liar.

“A session on the beach? I can tell.” He smiled but didn’t take the bait. “I haven’t drunk this much since I was in college,” I said, trying to change the subject.

“Which was what, four years ago?”

“A long time ago, Mr. Carson. A long time ago,” I said. We both chuckled, enjoying each other’s company. “You know,” I said, the brandy starting to go to my head. “I get so inspired when I’m around you.”

“How so?” he asked.

“My whole life, I’ve really wanted to be somebody. I’m almost there now, but when I’m with you, I feel like anything is possible. Suddenly, I know I can own the world.”

Billy sat beside me. He took my hands in his and stared deeply into my eyes. “You always have been something, and there’s no limit to what you can be. You’re a beautiful, intelligent, and caring young woman.” His mouth was so close to mine that I could feel it tickling my nose.

We began to lean in, my heart spiraling out of control. I pulled away sharply and stood up. “It’s getting late. I have to get to bed if I’m going to prepare for the jet ride home tomorrow.” I didn’t meet his eyes again. If I did, I would be sleeping with him tonight. “Good night, Billy,” I said softly.

“Good night.”

His phone rang. He picked it up, and I could hear Fiona’s snappy voice on the other end. Happy for the chance to escape, I quickly closed the door to my room and locked it, as if that would keep the thoughts of him away. I had almost crossed the line tonight. The idea that he was sleeping in the next room was more than enough to keep me awake. Luckily, I had come prepared. I took out the dildo I’d meant to throw out—the one I had unleashed all of my sexual frustrations on before. I threw it on my bed like a lover.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” I said to the dildo. “Thank you for saving me from a terrible mistake.”

I used the beautiful shower to wash, soaking myself in lavender soap. The scent of it relaxed me even more than the brandy, which was seeping into my veins. I thought perhaps I could wash this desire off of me. It didn’t work. Nothing seemed to work, and the closer I was to him, the more I wanted him. Badly.

He was still outside on the phone, his voice louder now. Fiona and he were arguing. Probably about me. Unless he hadn’t told her, which was very likely. He wouldn’t want anyone to know he needed emotional support.

I went into a fantasy—one I wanted to be real. In my fantasy, I would open the door and grab the phone out of his hand. It would shatter against the wall, but it wouldn’t matter because he could just buy a new one.

“Billy! “Fucking take me!”
Fantasy-Me screamed.

Fantasy-Billy growled and ripped my clothes off. We’d kiss and scratch each other until we were naked. I envisioned him bouncing me up and down on his cock, his legs splayed wide on the couch. I wanted to fuck him until the sun came up. I didn’t care if he could hear me come. I hiccupped in orgasm, my body writhing on my bed. I drifted off to sleep, the lights of the city my lullaby.

***

Experiences really can change you. After the trip, I was rejuvenated. I had clarity. I needed to break things off with Kent—which was ridiculous because we were never actually in a relationship to begin with. I thought he was great, but I wasn’t in love with him. He didn’t make my heart hammer the way Billy did, and though I had no intention of pursuing Billy, that’s what I wanted in the future. It’s what everyone deserves. Sometimes safety isn’t better than sanity.

Only two days had passed since our trip to California. Kent agreed to meet me at the coffee shop where we had our first date. He looked so sad in his raincoat; he likely already knew what was going to happen. I had told him about the trip when I’d asked him to meet. He cared about me too much to tell on me, but he knew well that after going on that business trip with Billy, there was no going back to pretending that what he and I had shared was real. I could never be with Billy, but I certainly could not pretend to feel that strongly about another man. Kent wasn’t the one for me.

It was ironic because, in truth, he was the perfect man. He was kind and considerate, as well as an excellent professional. In another place and time, we could have been great together. He just wasn’t for me, especially now. The feeling of safety he gave me was great, but for me to grow, I would have to push past my safety zone.

This trip with Billy taught me that to become someone, I had to dream big and go far. Being with Kent was not settling in any way, except emotionally. I could risk hurt, if it was for someone who could hurt me as much as I could them. With Kent, I always had one up on him and I knew it.

He hugged me in greeting. I wanted to cry. He had my coffee ready for me, steaming up our table.

“How did the trip go?” he asked. He looked at me with a hard look—a disapproving look.

“It was incredible,” I told him. “We took a private jet, and California is great. It’s still kinda warm there.”

“Are you sure you don’t need more supervision?” Kent asked.

I wasn’t sure if he was serious or joking. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Keep such great boundaries.”

“This question coming from the woman with a groundbreaking dissertation?” he joked.

“No. Seriously,” I insisted.

“Because it’s the right thing to do, Katie. That’s all. It’s just right.”

Tears welled up in my eyes. I added cream and sugar to my coffee, wanting to drown myself in it. He was right. What was I doing?

“What’s wrong?” He took my hand.

“We need to talk. That’s why I had you come here,” I began. I took my hand from him gently. He looked down and folded his hands on the table. He knew what that meant.