Five Alarm Lust by Elise Whyles (reading cloud ebooks .TXT) 📗

on her pad, glanced up at her over her glasses, and smiled. “Did you meet anyone?”

Gillian tensed, her face flushing. The question led to others, to ones she didn’t have the guts to answer right now. Maybe later, when she was alone in the darkest part of the night. “Uh, several people. No one worth discussing.”

“Really? Seems you’re a bit flushed about something. Did you have a problem at the wedding with your mother?” she hinted. “Perhaps she brought up Michael again?”

“Nothing I haven’t had before.” Gillian swallowed against the rising tide of fear. It choked her with an icy, brutal grip she couldn’t escape. Shifting on the leather, she mentally groaned at the creak of her chair and glanced toward the window.

“So you met someone then.” Her casual tone did nothing to hide her curiosity, her pen scratching across the pad.

Gillian fidgeted beneath the weight of her gaze. What she’d experienced had opened the floodgates and she was barely keeping afloat. Memories flickered, teasing her mind, her focus, and she clamped down hard, unwilling to share even as she fought the guilt still plaguing her. “Yes, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You can’t simply ignore the obvious, Gillian. At some point you have to make up your mind to open your heart again.”

“Sure, sure I will. I just don’t want to discuss my mother’s wedding right now.”

“Is that what we were discussing? I thought we were talking about you meeting someone? However, if the topic is a bit too tender, what should we talk about then?”

Gillian inhaled, fighting against the fear tightening her throat. Staring into her lap, she debated how much to tell. The ticking of the clock seemed to mock her, the steady cadence throbbing with her heart. Inhaling, she glanced at her therapist before her gaze skittered away.

“I’ve been having nightmares again. The bad ones I had when he was writing me just after his sentencing. Just doesn’t seem to be easing no matter what I do. I’ve tried to escape by sleeping with the light on, but it’s not helping. I don’t understand why. It’s not like he’s sent me a letter recently, and I haven’t talked to Mother about him in weeks. Every night it seems I’ve been getting less and less sleep. What sleep I do get that’s not filled with the nightmares is usually filled with…” She cut herself off.

“What happens in the nightmares?”

Gillian plucked at her skirt, a frown marring her face. The dreams were never concrete, never real enough to be spoken of in detail. Or they hadn’t been. Now they’d returned, clearer and more menacing than ever before. “He’s there yelling at me. Telling me I’m worthless,” her voice dropped until she was whispering, “screaming at me how I’m sexless and useless. Taunting me. He and Mother are constantly at me, yelling, screaming, cursing. No matter how I try to escape, they’re both there hovering over me. It’s like it’s stuck on replay, only it never ends. His words just get sharper and sharper.”

“Do they become physical at all?”

Gillian glanced up sharply. As terrifying as these dreams were, there was an element that kept them from being simple replays. “Not all of them. A few have been about that night. Mostly, though, he’s yelling from the sidelines, going on about how sexless I am, how I’m not a good fuck. But it’s not directed at me anymore. It’s directed at Ja…” Gillian slapped a hand over her mouth and stared in horror. She shook her head and half rose, only to settle back when Doctor Reimer gestured for her to remain in her seat.

“Relax.” She smiled. “I’m not here to judge you at all. If Michael isn’t yelling at you, who is he yelling at?”

“Jack. The man I met at the wedding. He’s determined to make him not want me.” Gillian sighed. “I mean, I’ve had really good dreams, ones where Jack and I are … and then Mike pops up screaming, yelling, throwing things. I just don’t get why. I don’t understand why when he stops my mother’s there, harping, yelling, making me miserable.”

“You met someone, Gillian, someone who your mind and body agree is worthy of note. For too long you’ve hidden away from the fact you’re a woman. The nightmares are a means of your mind facing your fears, of opening the doors to what you won’t admit to needing or wanting. There is nothing wrong with needing someone, Gillian, nothing at all. I want you to work on your relaxation exercises, and I want you back in this office in two weeks.” She patted Gillian’s knee, a warm smile on her face. “Good for you. It’s time, and you deserve a little happiness. Have you been doing your journal? I want you to work on it every night. And I want to hear about this man you met.”

“I didn’t…” Gillian flushed, memories floating through her mind. Already she could feel the heat swirling in her belly, the images flashing of how free she’d been.

“Gillian, make an appointment for two weeks and we’ll see you then.”

With a quick nod, Gillian rose and shuffled from the office. Of course her nightmares were linked to her fears. Why wouldn’t they be? She’d come twice! With some stranger she’d met at her mother’s wedding. She got into her battered old Chevy and debated going home or to work. A glance at the clock revealed she could make it in for six hours of work. Hiding from this in your work is not productive, Gillian. Doctor Reimer’s voice echoed as she cranked the stereo and started for the university. Productivity could go screw itself, Gillian decided, and turned the stereo up another notch.

* * * *

Kicking off her low-heeled shoes, Gillian carried the take-out bag across to the kitchen and set it on the counter. She dropped her briefcase and turned her computer on. It was still early; a few hours of work could be done before she