Page 4 of Blissful Vixen

“Says you should stretch first.” I showed him the paper and how we would stretch his legs. “I’ll support your leg. You’ll lift your hips.”

“Okay.” A firm nod confirmed that he was ready.

He lifted his hips, thrusting his pelvis upward.

Sheesh.I guessed I knew that he could…

He relaxed, counted to five, and did it again. Yup, he was gifted in that department. His hips worked just fine. I tried to focus on what we were doing to keep my mind out of the gutter, but it was difficult. Hardison was fine. Sinful even.

I knew he needed my help in other ways right now, so I kept myself on a short leash. No watching him flex and thrust. No concentrating on his face. It gave me the perfect image of how disciplined he could be about something.

We worked through all the exercises, and when we were finished, he had me massage some mint-scented stuff on his leg. The sun had fallen, barely lighting the room. Though I couldn’t see much of anything, I felt the muscles in his leg relax as I worked it.

“You’re a godsend,” he said as he relaxed in the spot where he was lying. “Now, if I could find a new therapist…”

“I thought you said one would be here in two days.” I furrowed my eyebrows, reflecting on what he said.

“Mind doctor.” He clarified behind closed eyelids.

“Oh!” I giggled. “I am one.”

“Really?” He finally looked at me.

“Yes, I really am.”

“Yes, but we’re dating, so…”

“What do you need, Hardison?” I asked, overruling his stubbornness.

“I have PTSD, so I’m supposed to see someone. The doctor I saw arranged for me to see someone a few times a week to work through the initial trauma.” Hardison shook his head before speaking again. “Told you, I’m a mess. Maybe, we shouldn’t be dating after all.”

“I think you’re right. We shouldn’t be. It sounds like you need to be working on yourself.” Though it was sad, it was truthful. It also could have been my nerves working overtime.

“Damn. It’s the scars, huh?” He chuffed.

“Yes, actually.” I leaned over him and touched his forehead. “The ones in here. Hardison, I know how important it is to get those healed up. They can be just as deadly as the ones you can get on your skin. I think you need to focus on that, and maybe when you’re ready, we can try dating afterward.”

“Are you trying to say the scars on my skin—”

“Are beautiful.” I finished for him. “They complement your already nice face, giving it even more character. Right now, it’s the ones we can’t see that are the problem. Trust me, I know.”

“How, so?”

“Not only have I seen it firsthand. I’ve lived through it, too,” I admitted. Old terrors liked to sneak up when you least expected them.

“If you won’t date me, then you’ll be my therapist?” he asked.

I hated dimming the light in his eyes. “No, if we ever want to try anything between us, we can’t have a doctor-patient relationship. I’ll try to help you find someone, though,” I agreed. Since we were being honest, and this wasn’t going to work out, I would do this for him. At least, I’d know he was safe.

“Deal. And, queen, you’re the beautiful one in this room. Don’t ever let that be a question in your mind.”

I smiled with one of those silly grins that you couldn’t help when you were blushing as a pink rose in a garden of blues. He’d just made it very clear that I needed to watch myself around him. Too many more of those ‘queen’ pet names thrown around, and I could get used to it. For now, I was going to admit that we were both attracted to one another and hoped I would find him a therapist tomorrow. Then I could leave shortly after.

HARDISON

Last night after Emberlynn excused herself to go to her room, she never reemerged. I ate dinner alone, and while I didn’t mind entertaining myself, I’d wanted her there, too. I was more than a little disappointed that she’d put a halt to things between us before they had even begun.

Unable to sleep made for a restless night and an early morning. I decided to make us some breakfast. Maybe coffee would get her out of that room.

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