Unspoken Vow (Steele Brothers 2)

“Whatever you’re having.”

He nods. “Be right back.”

“How long have you two been together?” Chris asks, breaking my focus away from Brody’s ass as he walks away. I’ve been staring at it all day but still can’t get enough.

“What? Oh, we aren’t … like … that.”

“Really? Huh. I thought for sure. You live together, though?”

“Yeah. Roommates.”

“Wow. Was not getting that vibe. You’re relaxed around him, and”—Chris shrugs—“I figured, you were so uptight when we dated.”

I want to argue, but I can’t. “Okay, we might be slightly more than roommates, but it’s not serious or anything.”

Chris snorts. “Yeah, I remember that about you. You’re not serious about anyone.”

Okay, who wants a subject change? “What about you and Rhett?”

“Oh. This is our first date, and it was a disaster up until you guys saved it.”

“We saved it? How?”

“I was trying to impress him with the rock-climbing date. Only, when you don’t get a chance to talk because you’re separated for most of the time, it’s hard to really get to know the other person. So, not such a great idea. Once we could climb together or talk while you two were on the wall, then I could actually learn about him.”

“Then you’re welcome.” I smile.

“It’s how I knew there was more between you and Brody. I could tell you were familiar with each other. Even when you weren’t talking, you were comfortable being near him.”

“Really? Interesting.”

I watch as Brody and Rhett make their way back over to us, and it suddenly occurs to me that I no longer view him as the intimidating, confident guy I was scared of even talking to.

Today proves that.

He smiles that Brody trademark smile, and I sigh at how good-looking he is.

“How you holding up?” he asks. “The first few times I rock climbed, I couldn’t lift my arms for days.”

“Oh, muscles I didn’t even know I had are killing me.” If I wasn’t so sore, I’d be taking him home and hooking up with him again when I’m not supposed to.

I have hope that with a little work, Brody and I could have more. Do more.

I really need to make that appointment with the sex therapist.

* * *

Sex therapy is a lot less exciting than I could ever imagine. Granted this is my first time seeing Dr. Shearon, and the only reason I got into him earlier than planned was because he had a last-minute cancellation.

My original appointment wasn’t supposed to be for another month. Apparently, sex therapists are busy. Who knew?

Brody’s been respectful in not asking when I’ll be ready, which I’m thankful for, because the last thing I want to do is tell him I’m seeing a sex therapist.

I jumped at the chance for an earlier appointment with this guy so I could get the ball rolling. I left work so fast I’m sure cartoon smoke followed me.

Torture isn’t quite strong enough a word to describe what Brody and I have been doing to each other, and the worst part is we don’t even mean to do it.

Starting something has awoken a need inside me I thought was long dead, but we need to do this the right way.

Each night when Brody comes home from work, I feed him, and then instead of going to bed or watching TV, where we sit so close to each other it drives us crazy, we both hit the gym in the basement. We work out until we both feel like passing out and then go to our respective rooms alone. I’m not sure about him, but I’ve spent every night with my fist wrapped around my cock until I come with Brody’s name on my lips.

That’s why I accepted this therapy appointment before I had a real chance to process what it would entail. Which is a whole heap of talking about my sexual hang-ups, exploits, and the poor way in which I’ve treated men these past few years.

It doesn’t help that the sex guy is hot. He’s intellectual sexy—glasses, perfectly shaven face, and light brown hair with golden highlights styled with so much gel I could probably give the guy a noogie and I wouldn’t mess it up. He’s put together in a grown-up sort of way, even though he looks to be my age.

I have to remind myself it took a long time to become comfortable with Karen, and it’ll take time with this guy too, but my dick was really hoping I could come in, talk through some stuff, and then go home and have sex with Brody.

It doesn’t look like that’ll happen.

“A need for control in the bedroom isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” Dr. Shearon says. His first name, no joke, is Edward. It’s hard for me to take a guy seriously when his name is Ed Shearon. Spelled differently than the singer or not, it’s still weird. “You just need to be given the right tools to make sure you’re doing it in a safe environment that’s beneficial to you and your partner.”