Easy Nights (Boudreaux #6)

I clear my throat, surprised to feel tears threaten. I’ve never cried during therapy before.

“So,” I continue, trying to distance myself, so it’s like I’m just retelling a story that someone else told to me. “He gradually added things like floggers or a whip. He’d only use the whip when I’d misbehaved.”

She doesn’t say anything, but her face loses all of the happy color she had before.

“He liked to go to these festival-type parties that are put on once a year. People wear costumes, usually sexy ones, and there are displays of different fetishes that you can try out. Like, if you’ve always wanted to be tied up, a guy will do that to you for fun.”

“I’ve heard of them,” Violet says.

“I hated going to them, mostly because he’d insist I wear the skimpiest costume that I didn’t feel comfortable in, and frankly, I’m more of a traditional girl. The fetish stuff doesn’t really interest me.”

“Did you tell him that?”

I look at her like she’s just suggested I jump off of a bridge. “No.”

She nods and I continue.

“It was mostly like that for the majority of our marriage. He would have said he was being a Dominant. But I’ve read enough to know that a Dominant would never make a submissive do anything against her will.”

“You’re right. While that community is difficult for some to understand, the core of it is consent.”

“I can honestly say that I had little say over my life for the better part of six years.”

“Savannah,” Violet says and comes to sit next to me for a moment, folding me into a hug.

“Do you do this with all of your clients?”

She chuckles, then lets go and returns to her seat. “No, but I needed that.”

“He taught me that sex was control, and pain, and everything horrible.”

“And a real man would have shown you that it’s the exact opposite. Being intimate with someone is about affection and connection.”

“I wouldn’t say that Lance and I were ever intimate,” I reply.

“No, you’re right.” She picks her pad up and writes a few more notes. “Are you worried that the sex would be the same with Ben?”

“Not at all.”

“Are you physically attracted to him?”

“Hell, yes.” I grin. “I didn’t know I could be physically turned on ever again, but he doesn’t even have to touch me to turn me on.”

“That’s wonderful,” Violet replies. “It’s truly miraculous, Savannah. For many women who have been through the trauma that you have, they never recover enough to have a healthy sex life.”

“Well, we haven’t had sex yet, so the jury is still out on that.”

“Has Ben said anything?”

“He’s said he wants me,” I reply. “Just yesterday, actually. The chemistry is there. We both feel it. And I want to have sex with him.”

“What’s holding you back?”

“Well, yesterday he mentioned something about kids, and how good I am with them.”

“Okay.”

“Do you think that means that he wants kids?”

“What do you think it means?”

“Jesus, Violet, will you just answer one question?”

Her lips twitch. “You know Ben better than I do.”

I blow out a gusty breath. “I don’t know if he wants kids. I would guess so.”

“And why does that bother you?”

“Because I can’t have children.”

She pauses. “Have you always been infertile?”

“No.”

“I see. Have you talked to Ben about it?”

“No.”

“Well, I think that’s where you should start.”

“What should I say? And when? Like, we’re about to do the deed and I blurt out, Oh, by the way, if you want kids we need to stop now.”

“Clearly, that’s not the case.” She tilts her head to the side. “I know Ben well enough to know that he would listen to you and have an adult conversation with you.”

“I know.” I sigh. “It’s just an awkward conversation, and frankly, I’m sick to death of having to talk about Lance and all the ways he fucked me up. I want it in the past.”

“I think opening up to Ben is the best way to put it squarely in your past, Van.”

“I’ve been feeling so much better.”

“You are not the same woman who walked into this office two years ago,” she confirms. “You’re confident and happy. You have yourself back, and that’s the result of all of your hard work. I love your hair, by the way.”

“Thanks.” I run my fingers through the shorter strands of hair. “It was time.”

“And maybe it’s time for this conversation with Ben as well,” she says with a kind smile. “I think you’ll be relieved, and his reaction will pleasantly surprise you.”

“You think?”

“I do.”

I nod and rub my hands on my legs, already nervous. “Probably best to do it sooner, rather than later, right?”

“I agree, yes.”

I reach out and take Violet’s hand in mine, giving it a squeeze. “Thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

***

I just kicked the shit out of someone in Krav Maga class. It was almost as therapeutic as my chat with Violet earlier today. Now I want to go home, take a long hot shower, and curl up with a book by the fire.

I’ve been with Ben every night since we started this official relationship. Not through the night, aside from the night he was sick. But we have made a point of spending evenings together after work.

I think I should give him a night off from me. I’m always moody after therapy, and I’m tired tonight.

I’m probably not good company.

Besides, I need to have the talk with him, and I’m avoiding that like the freaking plague.

I hurry home and, after locking myself in, I hurry upstairs to take my shower. Once out, I reach for my perfume on my vanity, but it’s gone. I always keep it in the same place, but it’s not here.

I glance around in confusion, but I don’t see it anywhere.

Huh. Who would have taken it? Surely Ben doesn’t need it.

I shrug and mentally add new perfume to my list. I love the scent I use. It’s light and pretty, and you have to get close to me to smell it.

Lance used to insist I wear Chanel No. 5, and to this day, if I smell it on someone as they pass by, I get nauseated. I hate it.

But I don’t have to wear it anymore. I’ll pick up another bottle of my fave.

I finish getting dressed and Ben calls.

“Hi there,” I say with a smile.

“How are you, beautiful?”

“Tired. It’s been a crazy day. How are you?”

“Lonely.”

I smirk. “I was thinking about staying home this evening.”

“That’s fine, I can come there.”

I bite my lip. “You don’t want a night away from me?”

He’s silent for a moment. “Is that what you want?”

I think it over, and it occurs to me that no, that’s not what I want.

“I just don’t want you to get sick of me.”

“Savannah, that’s one thing you don’t ever have to worry about. Besides I realized that you never spilled the beans about what you’ve learned about me.”

“That’s a long list,” I say, my inner flirt on full-blast. “I’ll come over, if it’s okay.”

“It’s always okay,” he says. “Drive carefully.”

“I will.”

I hang up and gather my things, and am headed to Ben’s house within two minutes. My hands are sweaty. My stomach is rolling.