Page 19 of Broken Heat
Elon –Guilt
Ilistened for Mykel’s footsteps to follow me into the bedroom and heard nothing.
I undid the belt of my kimono but didn’t take it off. I didn’t need to feel even more stupid standing naked in the middle of the room hoping for my therapist to walk in. He had already told me I needed to wait until tonight at the very least.
But I didn’t want to wait longer. I hadn’t felt this impatient in years.
Coah and I had had a routine. He made me wait, always, until he was ready, until he wanted me. Unless I was in heat, I did not control any aspects of our sexual behavior when we were married. It was the way with alphas, he’d told me. They liked to be in charge.
It appeared Mykel was that way, too, even though this wasmytherapy,myrehab.
The room was shadowy and cool. I went to the window and drew back the soft lavender drapes. The blind was up.
Light poured in making me squint. A tall willow swept the lawn by the side of the cabin, a wall of more greenery—jungle ferns, ivy and bushes—behind it. The lawn was so healthy each individual blade sparkled like emeralds.
Beneath the willow sat a table and two chairs, both white-painted wrought iron. A pot of pink and purple flowers bloomed in the center of the table.
I wasn’t upset. Exactly. I liked being wanted and needed. I liked waiting until that happened. But with Mykel, things were new and weird and different. This was therapy. Nothing more than that. He didn’t wantme.He was providing a service.
Why, then, should I have to wait?
In college, which should have been my time to go a little wild and work off some youthful steam, I’d been more subdued than my friends. I didn’t dream of screwing around with other college students my age. I wanted someone older. A man, not a boy still all pent up with high school dramas. I wanted a real alpha.
I reached out and gripped the sill of the window, leaning my forehead against the cool glass. The overhead fan made a tiny repetitive snicking noise and my mind followed the sound, letting it relax me.
Just then, I heard two soft raps at the door.
My fingernails dug into the windowsill’s white paint. “Come in.”
I heard the door click open as I continued to stare at the lush outside world.
“Elon.” Mykel kept his voice low. Almost sweet. “Can I come in?”
“Yes.”
I heard his sandals rap lightly against the wood floor. Then nothing. I pictured him standing about six feet behind me and I looked for his reflection in the window glass but couldn’t see it.
Mykel cleared his throat. “I know you want the therapy to move faster.”
“I just feel like—” I swallowed, at a loss for words. “Waiting is hard now. Coah’s gone and I can do what I want. I don’t have to wait anymore. And you said it’s up to me.”
“What do you mean when you say you don’t have to wait anymore?”
I wanted to lean into the window again. I wanted to let this beautiful island just swallow me whole so I didn’t have to think anymore.
“Elon,” Mykel prompted. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” I shut my eyes. “I didn’t mean anything by my statement. Not really. I don’t mind waiting until I’m wanted. Coah made me wait and he was right. It was always better when he was ready and couldn’t resist me. Maybe I was too greedy.”
“Can you explain that better?” Mykel asked.
I turned. “How?”
“About what you wanted and about waiting.” Mykel stood tall and serene in the center of the bedroom.
“I think I was pretty clear.”
Mykel’s eyebrows came together. “You were bondmates. You could feel each other’s needs. I need to understand more about how you were made to wait and how that made you feel.”
