I think you’re the one who’s afraid,” I tell her.
“I’m not afraid to be alone,” she says defiantly, her eyes flashing. “At all. I prefer it.”
“No, you’re afraid of me. You’re afraid of what would happen if you stayed here overnight. Even if you went to your room and slept there, you’re afraid that you’d end up back here in this room. You’re afraid you’re going to end up giving in to me. Giving in to what you really want.”
I watch as she blinks at me and tries to take her hand away.
I tighten my grip.
She stops fighting.
“Why can’t you just admit it?” Still holding on to her wrist, I sit up, swinging my legs over the side, ignoring the pain while pulling her up to me, my thighs on either side of her. My erection pokes up through the thin fabric of my shorts. This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten hard around her, and she’s always pretended not to notice. I suppose it’s her job, but I don’t want to be part of her job right now.
“Why are you afraid of me?” I whisper, sliding my hand up her arm to her elbow, staring up at her for a sign that she’s giving in.
“I can’t,” she says stiffly.
“Are you afraid you’ll like it? That you’ll need more? Are you ashamed of having those wants and needs?”
Her mouth opens and closes, and I just need the slightest hint, and I’ll be kissing those lips, pulling her onto my bed and pinning her down.
“Just for a night,” I go on. “I promise I can make it so good for you.”
“With that knee?” she manages to say, almost smiling.
“My tongue isn’t broken and neither is my cock,” I tell her boldly. Adrenaline and heat and desire push their way through me as I pull her arm down so her hand is at my erection, pressing against it.
For one brilliant second she makes a loose fist around it, as if testing me. It’s enough to make my eyes roll back in my head.
Then she’s pulling back, and I let go, knowing I’ve taken it too far again, a line I haven’t crossed with her before.
At least she knows what that line feels like.
She backs up a few steps, shaking her head, though the rest of her seems to be trembling too. “I’m your therapist,” she says in a faint voice. “I’m your therapist and we can’t do that.”
“But you want to.”
“Whether I want to or not is irrelevant,” she says, the strength coming back into her words. “I’m your therapist. I’m here to help you heal and nothing more. If you can’t respect that, and respect me, then I’m going to have you transferred to someone else. I don’t want to do that because I like you, Alejo. But for my job, I will. And I won’t hesitate.”
I’ve never seen her so serious before. I immediately feel bad for being so bold and reckless with her.
“I’m sorry.”
“You should be sorry,” she says angrily. Then she takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders. “Now I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh, and Mateo says you should show up to watch practice.”
Then she turns and leaves.
I don’t think I’ve ever hated myself more.
Chapter 9
Thalia
Manuel drives me home from Valdebebas and I’m an absolute wreck.
My whole body is buzzing, like I’ve been plugged into a wall socket.
My heart won’t stop pounding.
The air is caught in my lungs.
It’s like I’m having a panic attack, but it’s not a feeling I want to get rid of, because I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before.
I feel…alive.
As stupid as that sounds, I feel like my body is finally waking up after being dormant for so many years, like I’d been buried by the aftermath of my divorce and the ash is finally brushing off.
I feel alive and terrified.
Because I was that close to giving in to Alejo.
That. Close.
The moment I felt how hard he was, the hot stiff length of his cock under my hand, that was the tipping point. I could have easily, so easily, kept going. Made those gorgeous eyes of his roll back even further in his head, bring him to the point of no return.
But it really would have been the point of no return for me.
And once I did that with him, it would all be over.
I would lose respect for myself for giving in so easily, just because he’s a beautiful boy and a warrior of a man all