Good Girl Gone (The Reed Brothers 7)

I also know that he kicked my ass the last time I saw him. I have never been so sore in my life.

“Morning,” I mumble back.

He motions for me to follow him into a small room. “How’s it going?”

I nod. “Fine.”

“Any new challenges this week that you want to discuss?”

Aside from Star, no. And I definitely don’t want to discuss her. “Not really.” Heat creeps up my cheeks and he tilts his head and stares me down.

“You’ve got something on your mind.”

A girl. I have a girl on my mind. “Nope.”

He doesn’t crack a smile. “Liar.” He waits a beat. “Medically speaking, then, anything new that I need to know about?”

“Like…?” I’m new to all this. I have no idea what he does and doesn’t need to know about.

“Any new pain? Muscle issues? Weakness?”

“Nope.” Aside from having a constant hard-on, I got nothing new.

“You’re still able to urinate without a catheter?”

“Yep.” Nosy bastard.

“Good.” He makes a few notes. Then he grins at me. “How’s Star?”

Hot as hell. “Who?”

He flashes his teeth at me.

“The Reeds talk too much,” I mutter. Daniel has been a friend of the Reeds for quite some time, and they even had him dressed up in an elf costume at Christmas.

“They care about you, that’s all.” He sobers. “Seriously, though, just between you and your physical therapist, do you have any concerns?” He raises a brow at me, but he’s not teasing or messing with me anymore. “I’m going to see your doctor later today if there’s anything you want me to ask him.”

“Nothing,” I bite out.

“You sure?”

“Dude, I’m not talking to you about sex with Star.” I shake my head. But I really, really want to.

“Have you had sex since your injury?” he asks. He motions from me to him and back.

I look down at his prosthesis. “Have you had sex since your injury?”

He grins. “Only every chance I get.”

I don’t say anything.

“It was difficult for a while. I didn’t quite know where to put things.”

I make a crude gesture with my hands. “Seriously?”

He nods and he’s not grinning. “My body was…different. I didn’t know if she would have to get on top or if I could. I didn’t know if I could do the physical job of it without having two feet to push off with, if you know what I mean.”

I do know what he means. I worry about that, on the off chance that I do think about sex, which I’ve been thinking about a lot in the past day and a half.

“When I was going through my depression, I wasn’t even sure if I could maintain an erection.”

“So what did you do?” Okay, so now I’m the nosy bastard.

“I talked to Faith. Made sure she knew about my concerns. Made sure she was aware of my limitations.”

I’m not sure I could talk to Star like that.

“If you can’t talk to your partner about what’s important, she’s not the right partner for you.”

“Quit reading my fucking mind,” I mutter.

He opens my file back up. “There’s no reason why you can’t get and maintain an erection. At least not based on the type of injury you have.” He closes the file. “Can I be really frank with you?”

Oh crap. I shrug.

“Are you able to get an erection?”

I nod.

“Is this new?”

I nod again.

“Is it scary?”

“A little,” I murmur.

“Did you get them before you met Star?”

“Just early in the morning when I have to piss.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Figures.”

He chuckles. “But you’re getting them now.”

Every time I look at her. “Yep.”

“Have you tried masturbating to see if you can take it to completion?”

“Dude, this is just wrong,” I say. And embarrassing.

“Just answer the question.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“The only way to know is to try it.” He shrugs at me. “Either it works or it doesn’t.”

“Okay,” I say quietly.

“Communicate with your partner.”

“Okay.” I really want to move on to a different subject.

“Oh, I got a mobility catalog the other day with some special sex chairs and cushions and stuff. You want me to bring it tomorrow?”

“Sex chairs?”

He nods. “They do the thrusting for you. Might be an option.” He claps me on the shoulder. “I’ll bring one for you.”

“Fine.”

“And you need to use protection, okay? Don’t assume you’re sterile.”

“You think I might not be?”

“There’s only one way to find out.” He rocks his head back and forth. “Well, two.”

“And they are?” Now I’m curious.

“Get a chick pregnant. Or go get your sperm count checked.”

“You mean jizz in a cup?”

He shrugs again. “Or in a girl. Then wait to see what happens.” He grins again. “Jizzing in a girl sounds like so much more fun.” He laughs. “And that was the man talking to you like that. Not the physical therapist. Sorry.”