Dr. Gaines hummed and tapped at his screen some more. “Has this affected your life negatively?”
“No, I’m fine.” Max flushed and glanced at his lap.
Dr. Gaines furrowed his brows.
Max had gotten this far, and I’d be damned if he backed down now. I shifted, took Max’s hand, and cupped it between both of mine. “No one, except Dr. Gaines and I, can hear you. I already know about your issues, and Dr. Gaines helps people for a living.”
Max’s eyes narrowed and his breath caught. “This is hard, Daddy,” he whispered, but it was a small room and I was certain Dr. Gaines heard him. I glared at the man, daring him to say one word to my brave boy, but he only gave me a friendly smile.
“I know, and I’m proud of you.”
Max took a deep breath and sat up straighter. “It does cause problems. JP let me rearrange half his house. And work. Sometimes I—” He cut a look at me. “Mark didn’t care, but I organized his desk and Ross’s today. It was… there were other things, important things, I could have been doing for the hour it took me, but it was distracting me and they told me to just do it.”
I hadn’t been aware. No one had called me to complain, and that made me think better of Jaxson and Mark, too. I held his hand and ran my thumb over the back of his wrist.
Dr. Gaines nodded and stared at the floor between us for a few seconds before he beamed another smile at Max. “I want you to think about what you most like about organizing spaces that aren’t your own and come back next week and tell me all about it. Maybe write it down. You can make me a list of things that make you happy about rearranging items.”
Max leaned against me and laughed. “What? You’re not going to tell me to resist the urge and knock it off?”
Dr. Gaines chuckled. “It might be easier to find you an outlet for the impulses. Something constructive that satisfies the same pleasure centers in your brain. Then after we’ve established a routine with your constructive behavior, we can work on limiting the urges in areas that cause friction in your life. You might want to consider medication. There are a few known to help with OCD, but they might not be necessary.”
“When I was younger, my family always yelled at me for touching their belongings.”
Dr. Gaines’s face transformed into a thundercloud. “That wasn’t nice of them. I’m sorry. If it bothered them, they should have had you in therapy instead of letting you go until you had to deal with this on your own as an adult. Have you had therapy before?”
Max shook his head, and I raised his hand to kiss his wrist. “I don’t mind, and you won’t be going back there,” I promised, and I meant it. Even if everything fell apart and Max wanted to fuck other people at the end of it all—something that left me with a heavy heart to think about—I would be damned if I’d let him go back to those people who should have taken care of him and instead did anything but.
Max smiled at me like I’d just invented disinfectant wipes, and Dr. Gaines spent a few seconds typing away on his tablet.
“Good job, Max. You might not realize it, but you’ve done a lot today. Don’t forget your homework. I want you to really think about this. I’ll see you back here next week. Same time?”
Dr. Gaines glanced at me to confirm then, and I nodded, happy he was allowing me to be part of the process, even if I should back the hell off. I just couldn’t stomach the idea of sending Max alone when he didn’t have to doanythingon his own, as far as I was concerned. He was my boy. “I’ll see that he’s here.”
The big man snorted and I got the impression he might have already figured out exactly what type of relationship Max and I had, but he offered me his hand to shake again, and pleasantly chatted about the impending snowpocalypse as he ushered us outside and then waved us off before escorting in his next client.
“Daddy,” Max chirped when we were back out in the parking lot, and I was surprised at the happy grin he gave me. “Can we stop and get fast food? I want something greasy.”
Laughing, I nodded and brushed his hair off his forehead. “Are you sure? I could cook you something good at home, but you do deserve a reward.”
He bounced and almost slipped on the ice. Only my arm around his waist kept him on his feet. “Yes, I’m sure!”
Instead of cheap drive-through, which I could not imagine feeding him for a meal, I took him out for burgers at a decent place, and by the time we got home, it was past seven and I was feeling ready to move along our night. I’d had fun flirting and talking with him over dinner. He let me remove his coat as we came in through the side door near the kitchen, and I hung it up for him.
“Daddy, do you want me to…?” He smiled and toyed with the top button of his shirt and heat simmered low in my stomach. Yes, I did want him to get naked and present himself to me. Too bad I had other plans.
“I want to watch TV,” I said.
Max seemed disappointed and that had me laughing on the inside.
“Go shower. Get ready for me.” I reached over and tweaked his nose. He sputtered and swatted at me.
“But didn’t you just say we were watching TV?”
“Do as you’re told, boy,” I growled at him.
He squeaked and then hustled off upstairs. I chuckled as I went around the house collecting the items I wanted and taking them to the sitting room, hiding a few things in a pillowcase under the couch nearest the fireplace, then humming a tuneless little song, I started the fire. By the time Max came back to me wrapped in a fluffy black towel and nothing else, the room was warm enough for my boy to get naked. I had cuffs, a blindfold, gag, and plug laid out on a towel on the floor where he could see them, and I’d already strung a rope around a leather ottoman I’d slid closer to the fire, in a spot that wasn’t too hot or too cold. Everything in our world was just right tonight.
“What is this?” Max asked. He bit his lip, and I wanted to groan.
