Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 91862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
I gather my courage and walk through the entrance.
A small desk sits between two closed doors. “May I help you?” the receptionist asks.
I sigh. “No.” I turn.
Then, almost as quickly, I turn back to her. “I’m sorry. I don’t have an appointment.”
“Mr. Brooke isn’t in today. He’s in court.”
“I was actually hoping I could see Rosa.”
“Oh. She’s with someone at the moment, but they’re almost done. What’s your name?”
“Skye Manning.”
A teenaged girl walks out through one of the doors. She waves at the receptionist. “See you next week, Mary.”
“Have a great day,” Mary replies. Then she picks up her phone. “Rosa, there’s a young woman here to see you. Skye Manning.”
A few seconds, and then out walks Rosa, still as blond and beautiful as she was in high school. “Skye, how nice to see you!”
“Hi, Rosa. I was walking by and saw your sign.”
“When did you get into town?”
“Just yesterday. I’ll be here all week.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen you since graduation. You look amazing, but then, you always did.”
I smile. Yeah, she was always nice to me. “Thank you. You look amazing as well.”
“We should do lunch while you’re home.”
“That’d be great. I’d love to talk.”
“Of course. We’ll catch up. I hear you’re a big photographer in Boston.”
I nod. “I wouldn’t say big, but I’m at least taking pictures.”
“Wonderful. I can’t wait to chat. What’s your schedule like?”
“Well.” I clear my throat. “I’m free now.”
“I have a half hour. Sure. Let’s go get a soda.”
I twist my lips. “Rosa, when I said I wanted to talk, I meant…professionally.”
“Oh!” She widens her eyes. “Of course. Come on into my office.”
I follow her, and she shuts the door.
“Have a seat.”
I choose the couch, and she takes the wingback chair adjacent to me.
I clear my throat again. “I have insurance. I can pay you.”
“I’m not worried about that. What can I help you with?”
God, where to start? “I’m in a relationship. Sort of. With… With Braden Black.”
Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. “You are?”
“We’re kind of off again at the moment.”
“Seriously? Braden Black?”
“Just for the past few weeks. I guess the tabloids didn’t get here yet.”
“Liberty’s the last to get any kind of news. So tell me all about him.”
I fold my hands in front of me to keep from fidgeting. “That’s kind of why I’m here, actually. We have an issue that I need to resolve.”
“I’ll try my best to help, but if you’re only going to be here for a week, there’s a limit to what I can do.”
“I understand. If you tell me I need further guidance, I’ll find a therapist when I get home.”
“One session of therapy isn’t usually enough.”
“I’m here all week. I can come in more than once.”
“If there’s room in my schedule, I’ll be happy to see you. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. What brought you in today, Skye?”
“It’s Braden,” I say. “He and I have a rather…unconventional relationship.”
“How so?”
“Our sex life is”—my cheeks warm—“kind of…” I swallow down a wave of nausea. “This is all confidential, right?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t be a very good counselor if I blabbed my clients’ stories all over town.” She smiles.
I know she’s telling the truth, but her words make me edgy. Maybe this was a bad idea.
She seems to sense my apprehension. “Skye, something’s obviously bothering you. I assure you that you can trust me. I’m a professional and I’m bound by the ethics of the profession.”
I sigh. “Okay. Our sex life is… He’s into BDSM.”
She nods, not looking surprised at all. Has she heard this kind of stuff before? She’s a counselor, yes, but she’s a young counselor from Liberty, Kansas. How much could she have come across in her brief professional life?
“How do you feel about the BDSM in the bedroom?” she asks.
My cheeks are full-on blazing now. They must be fire engine red. “I resisted a little at first. But just a little. I actually”—damn, my cheeks are on fire!—“really like it.”
“All right. That’s good. He’s not coercing you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“No, he isn’t. He’s been very respectful. I was surprised how much I like it, though.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I’ve always been pretty type A, and submitting in the bedroom takes all my control away.”
“Not necessarily,” she says.
I widen my eyes. “What?”
“Some say it’s the submissive who has the control in that kind of relationship.”
“How can that possibly be true?”
“Because the submissive—at least in a healthy Dominant/sub relationship—gets to choose how far they want to go. The sub is the one with the safe word. The sub can stop what’s going on at any time. Therefore, the sub has more control than the Dom.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Hmm. I never looked at it that way.”
“Most people don’t, but it has merit.”
“It does. But here’s the weird part. I wanted to do something, and Braden said no.”