Chapter Seven
My restraint has never been tested more in my fucking life. As soon as Doctor Lawson turned away from me to walk to the restroom, my eyes were glued to her curvy, perfect ass in her tight pencil skirt. The way her hips swayed from side to side was hypnotizing, and I swear, even barefoot and without her high heels, I could hear the clicking as she walked.
Does she have a damp spot on her skirt?
My eyes were locked on the small spot on her skirt underneath her ass. It was slightly darker than the material of her skirt, and I bit my bottom lip to hold back the moan that was threatening to escape my throat.
Shifting in place, I tried to calm myself. Just knowing that she was wet for me, made my cock uncomfortably hard in my slacks.
I need to get my shit together and focus on this Norfolk Butcher case. I can’t let my obsession with her get in the way of my dream job.
I took a moment to look out her window behind her desk. It was hard to believe that I was truly here. It seems like yesterday that I was attending her lecture at the FBI academy. I had vivid dreams every night for two weeks, replaying that moment we shared after the lecture.
My eyes found the trees swaying in the October breeze. It was peaceful up here, comfortable. When Doctor Lawson is nearby, my mind is calmer. I’ve still had my issue with zoning out and dissociating, but it seems like I’m more grounded in her presence.
I heard the door to the restroom open and close behind me, and I turned to see Doctor Lawson returning to the conference table.
“Let’s get this cleaned up, then we can begin?” She asked, a soft smile on her lips.
“Yes, of course.”
Again, my restraint was tested when Doctor Lawson leaned over the table to reach for our empty takeout containers. Her perfect, round, plump ass was framed perfectly in that damn pencil skirt. I was overwhelmed with the urge to tear that fucking skirt off and—
“Would you grab me a bag from that drawer over there, please?” Doctor Lawson nodded her chin toward a drawer, forcing me out of my brain.
“Yes, of course, Doctor.” Walking around the table, I reached inside the cupboard and grabbed a plastic trash bag. Shaking it out to expand the plastic, I held it open for her to dump our containers inside.
“Perfect, thank you. We can take it out to the trash on our way out.” She smiled and wiped down the table with the side of her hand, collecting stray crumbs in her free hand and dusting them off in the trash bag. “Would you like a coffee, Agent?”
“I would actually love one, thank you,” I replied, tying a knot in the trash bag.
Doctor Lawson smiled and switched on her coffeemaker while I pushed in our chairs we used to eat lunch. I watched her slender fingers load a coffee pod and place a disposable, to go style coffee cup underneath the drip. The smell of fresh roasting coffee made me hum in approval, closing my eyes and savoring the scent.
If only I had some of my—
“Your creamer is in the door of the refrigerator and is brand new. I figured since we will be working together for quite a bit, it would be nice for you to have your favorite creamer for your coffee,” Doctor Lawson said, as if she could read my mind. I was momentarily stunned by the gesture.
“Wow, Doctor, thank you. That actually really means a lot to me. I was trying to figure out how to ask if you would mind me keeping a small container here. Coffee is my after every meal routine, and it’s hard for me to switch up creamers.”
“Of course, Agent. Trust me, I know how that brilliant brain of yours works. Routines help you remain grounded.” She smiled, handing me the cup, and I poured my creamer, stirring with a plastic spoon until it was the perfect shade. “I’m not a stalker, in case you’re wondering. I saw you with this creamer in the break room downstairs when I was delivering a file to Carter.”
“Would you like to try some?” I offered with a chuckle.
“I got in the habit of drinking black coffee. I’m notorious for getting sidetracked and forgetting about it, so adding creamer just makes it go cold faster.” She laughed. “If I didn’t have Elaine out there, I’d be forever cursed with lukewarm coffee.” She pressed a lid on her cup and walked back toward her desk.
Placing a lid on my cup, I followed her. I was entranced by her, my eyes tracking every movement she made. She stopped at her desk to pick up a notepad, and when her striking, hooded gaze met mine, all I could imagine was those eyes looking up at me while she was on her knees and—
“Where would you like to have our session, Agent? We can use these chairs, the table where we had lunch, or the couch; take your pick.”
“These chairs are fine. They’re surprisingly comfortable,” I said, picking up my notebook from her desk and taking the same seat I did when I was scanning Hatch’s case file.
A small flicker of light caught my attention, and I noticed the lens to a very small hidden camera in a pot of flowers on her desk; my curiosity instantly piqued.
“It took me a while to find ones I liked. I like how the backs aren’t too high, but they’re still comfortable. Comfort is of utmost importance in a therapy setting. Plus, they have these,” she said while pressing a button next to the armrest, and a small table big enough for my coffee and notebook lifted and clicked into place.
“Okay, that is amazing,” I said, staring at the table in awe, earning a subtle chuckle from Doctor Lawson. Placing my coffee down on the table, I opened my notepad to a fresh page and pulled a pen from my pocket.
She picked up her glasses and notebook from her desk and sat across from me. The way her long legs crossed, the toned muscles of her legs flexing as she shifted…
Fuck, is she clenching her thighs? Is she as turned on as I am?
The air in the room was thick and heavy and I couldn’t help but wish I could pull her onto my lap and slide my hands up that fucking skirt and feel how wet she is for me. Shifting again in her seat, I forced my hands to clasp together in my lap, hoping that my poker face was solid.
God, I want to bury my cock in her, feel her warmth, see those pretty long legs draped over my shoulders while I—
“Before we begin, I am obligated to tell you that this here is a camera.” She reached over to the small potted plant on her desk with a cluster of flowers and tapped the pot with her fingernail. “It is off currently, and only used with consent.” Doctor Lawson clicked her pen and opened her notebook. “So, Agent, tell me. Are you ready to answer my question from a year ago?” She pressed the button on her chair to lift her table into place and placed her coffee down. She slid her glasses on her nose slowly, her eyes starting at my feet, working their way up to mine.
“A year ago?”
“Yes, Camden. Our little quid pro quo.” The way my name rolled off her tongue had goosebumps forming on my arms, and blood rushing straight to my dick.
What I wouldn’t give to hear her scream my name.
“Oh, yes. I remember you questioning my integrity.” I chuckled nervously, clenching my hands tightly in my lap.
“You got quite defensive, but I wasn’t wrong, was I?”
“You asked why I was playing as an FBI agent. I took it as an insult to my character,” I said, monotone while crossing my arms over my chest and subtly started picking at the cuticles of my thumbs.
“Well, was I wrong? You weren’t an agent at the time.” she said with a coy smile, while jotting down some notes in her notebook.
“I’ve always felt like I had a lot more to prove than everyone else,” I admit. I can feel various doors in my mind that I keep closed to protect myself, slowly starting to open, making me more nervous and uneasy.
Doctor Lawson’s gaze softened into an empathetic smile and she opened her mouth to speak, but I beat her to it.
“It’s your turn, Doctor. Quid pro quo,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee. She raised an eyebrow and I could see her subtly bite the inside of her cheek.
“I suppose it is, then. What question do you have for me?” She leaned back in her chair, an amused yet inquisitive smirk threatening to pull up the corner of her lips.
“Why did you go into psychiatry and pathology? That’s so much medical school, isn’t it?”
“Well, yes, Camden. It was quite the… seemingly endless amount of time spent in school,” she said, removing her glasses and relaxing in her chair. “I had a head start, though, since I graduated high school when I was fifteen. There was a great deal of pressure on me regarding my education growing up, since both of my parents were highly esteemed surgeons. Coming from a family with unlimited wealth was a difficult way to grow up.”
She paused for a moment to look out the window to her side and took a sip of her coffee. Her eyes hooded as if they were scanning, searching, yearning…
“I got my pre med bachelor’s degree at eighteen with electives in forensic science and went straight to medical school in an accelerated program.”
“So you started with pathology?” I asked, finishing my coffee and drawing her eyes back to mine.
“Yes. The pressure to follow in my parents’ footsteps consumed my life. Once I completed my MD program, I received my medical license and began my residency in Los Angeles, California. I worked with the Los Angeles County Department of Medical Examiners and Coroners, helping with forensic autopsies and toxicology lab tests. Once I completed my residency, I was able to enroll in a pathology fellowship which would help me qualify to be board certified. During my fellowship, I began studying forensic psychiatry and profiling, while also continuing my fellowship, learning about ballistics and DNA technology. Turns out I had a knack for finding trace evidence.”
Doctor Lawson finished her coffee, reached to her little side table to place her empty cup on the top and clicked her pen a few times; which I noticed was a tic she had. Trying not to smile, I softened my gaze on her as her eyes pinched slightly, trying to figure out what I was thinking.
“To answer your other question, Camden, I like having a complete picture. Pathology gives me the physical picture, and psychiatry gives me the mental picture. I was always intrigued with how the mind works, and if any mental conditions or trauma could lead to psychotic behaviors. So, here I am after about twenty years of schooling and studying.”
I couldn’t help but stare at her in awe. She was just amazing. I can’t imagine the focus and tenacity to go through so much schooling. I can barely motivate myself to shower in the morning, and I’m somehow in the presence of the most accomplished forensic pathologist and forensic psychiatrist in the country.
“Where did your mind wander off to, Camden?” Doctor Lawson asked, her eyes slightly shifting to concern.
“Oh, nowhere, Doctor. I’m right here,” I forced out.
“Quid pro quo, remember?” Her gaze intensified, and I leaned forward to rest my elbows on my knees, letting my head hang in between my shoulders. Raking my fingers through my hair, I took a deep breath before searching for those green eyes of hers.
“I admire you. Your patience, resolve, relentlessness—you have two medical degrees, a successful practice, and a respectable reputation with law enforcement. I can barely find the motivation to shower some days. Simple tasks feel like a chore, and when I fail to complete something so simple, the weight of the failure is all-consuming.”
“So, you compare your successes to everyone else around you? That’s an extremely unhealthy mechanism, Camden.”
“It’s unintentional, but happens regularly. So, I force myself to excel at everything I do. Sure, I have twenty-one arrests and convictions, but I’ve been working eighteen to twenty-hour days to close these cases. I run myself ragged trying to prove myself, to prove that I can do this.” Holding my head in my hands, I gripped my hair in my fists and squeezed my grip as tight as I could, desperately trying to ground myself.
What the fuck am I doing? I’m going to talk myself right out of the BAU, the FBI; I can’t do this. I can’t—
I was interrupted by soft, warm hands on top of mine. Not releasing my grip, but tilting my head up, I met Doctor Lawson’s gaze. She was kneeling in front of me, sitting on her heels. Her thumbs were tracing small, comforting circles on my knuckles and my breathing started to even out. I desperately wanted to look away—hide my shame, hide my pain—but I couldn’t.
“You are giving yourself too much of a burden to carry, Camden. Too much unnecessary weight is hanging on your shoulders, and if you don’t find a way to cope, it will break you down,” she said, her mesmerizing voice echoing in my mind as I stared into her eyes.
Opening my mouth to speak, no words came as she guided my hands out of my hair, never breaking eye contact. Rising off of her heels and to her knees, she guided me back in the chair so my back and head were able to rest against the soft cushion. My hands remained in fists on my thighs as I closed my eyes, trying to relax.
“The pain helps you find your footing and stay grounded,” she said while she gently peeled open my fists, guiding my fingers to straighten out. Crescent moon shaped indentations and cuts in a neat row of four trailed down the middle of my palms.
“I used to use pain to help me feel like I had both feet on the ground. But now…now I don’t feel a damn thing.”
Reaching up to her desk, she snatched a box of tissues and dabbed at the cuts on my palms, still on her knees. Seeing her on her knees in front of me, feeling her warm skin on mine, and seeing her chest rise and fall with hot, heavy breaths… I didn’t even fight the feeling of blood rushing to my cock.
“That’s hard for you, isn’t it? To feel nothing. Especially with your gifts, your empathy.”
“I see you, Camden.” Her voice was a whisper in my mind as I remembered her business card she gave me.
“You are gifted with pure empathy. You can truly understand everything, taking every small and sometimes minute piece of evidence and reconstructing the murders. You see what the killers see, you see what the criminals see. Your twenty one arrests are proof that you’re using your gifts for the better of humanity, yet you feel incomplete—”
“Quid pro quo, Doctor,” I said, cutting her off with shaky breaths as she held my left palm in both of her hands.
The corner of her lips turned up into a devious grin as she brought my hand to her lips, planting a chaste kiss on the skin of my palm. Her striking, green gaze bore into mine as she pulled my hand away from her lips, leaving behind a smudge of blood on the corner of her mouth.
“What do you want to know, Camden?” she whispered as she dragged her thumb over the blood and licked it clean. Closing her lips around her thumb, she stood to her full height, standing between my legs and—
“Camden?” Doctor Lawson asked, concerned.
I shook my head, confused, and found her still on her knees, holding a tissue to my palm to stop the bleeding from the cuts.
What the fuck is wrong with me? Am I that horny, that obsessed with her? I can’t let my brain ruin this opportunity for me; I can’t—
“Come back, Camden. Stay here in this moment with me.” Doctor Lawson stood, still holding one of my hands in both of hers. “Don’t get lost in your mind; stay with me.” Her voice was as soft as a whisper; it was delicate and comforting. “There you go, such a good boy for me.”
Reaching one hand toward my head, she raked her fingers through my hair, and I couldn’t help but close my eyes, absorbing her praise, her touch, her presence.
“Don’t get lost in your mind; stay with me…”
“I-I’m here, I’m sorry, Doctor.” I nervously pulled my hand out of hers, and she let my hair fall from her fingers as she turned back toward her chair to sit.
“It’s your turn to ask me a question, Agent,” Doctor Lawson said, crossing her delicate legs again.
“Can this…um…?”
“Everything said in this room, behind these closed doors, stays in here. Everything.” She offered me a soft smile, and I chuckled in a mixture of relief and embarrassment.
“But still, it’s embarrassing.” I covered my face with my hands, taking a deep breath.
“Don’t be embarrassed. This is a good step in the right direction of finding you better coping mechanisms than making yourself bleed. Plus, I’m learning more about you than I ever thought I would.”
“Just…If you feel like you need to give Jacobs a ‘no’ recommendation, just tell me now so I can get my box back to the Violent Crimes Unit.”
“I never said I was giving you a negative recommendation. I’m intrigued by you, Camden, and I fully intend to continue this partnership for as long as I can,” she said with a wink. “Now, let’s discuss the BAU’s Norfolk Butcher Case.”