Nine
S he was going to be in my fucking room. The room where I lay in bed on Friday night, unable to sleep after talking to her, and fantasised about fucking her. Did I touch myself? Yeah, of course I fucking did. Was my dick working properly? Not really, but you know what? I tried.
The thought of her in those sexy secretary skirts, and me bending her over her desk? Fucking right, I wanted that. Fucking right, I pictured it relentlessly, until I finally fell asleep. Have I done that every night since? I don’t think I could even stop at this point. If the pain in my fucking shoulder would dissipate enough for me to get a hard on, I’d probably be in a world of hurt right now, because she’d see it, and get offended.
“Yeah… okay… uh… follow me.” I sounded brainless as fuck, as I stumbled over a few simple words. She grabbed her coffee, and got up from the stool, thanking Tommy again. As she walked over to me, I watched him eyeing her ass up in that skirt, and shot him a glare.
He turned and fussed with the coffee machine, but I know he caught my look, and what did that look mean exactly? Show some respect? Don’t treat her like a piece of meat? She’s mine? Jesus… all of the above?
“Just up this flight of stairs.” My words were unnecessary, but I felt like I needed to fill the silence. I led her down the corridor to my room, praying nobody was still here, and about to appear and behave inappropriately. Shit. Was my room even tidy? At the door, I stopped, and glanced at her.
“Just a sec.” I disappeared inside, and checked the place over. It was okay. I sniffed the air, and it didn’t smell musty or of something worse, but I opened both windows just in case. Yeah, it’d do.
I went back and opened the door.
“Sorry. Wasn’t expecting company today. Excuse the mess.” Why do we always say that, even after we’ve made sure we’re tidy? No fucking idea. I pointed at the small dining table by the window. Most of our rooms were laid out the same.
“Maybe over here is best?”
Doc Chase nodded, and headed over, pulling out one of the crappy chairs to sit down. She was looking around the room with interest.
“You live here?”
I nodded. “We don’t have to, many members don’t. It’s just easier for me to be here. I do uh… did… well, I guess I will again… uh… I’m good with technology. You know, finding stuff out, and uh… tracking stuff.”
She held up a hand.
“Don’t worry, you don’t need to say any more. I’m sure your business is private. Do you find it helpful being around your uh… is brothers the right term?”
I nodded. “Yeah, it is, and yeah, mostly it’s good. Some of them are nosy fuckers, who won’t leave me alone for too long, but otherwise, it’s nice. It’s a family.”
“Does it ever feel crowded or overwhelming here? It must be hard to have time to yourself.”
I quirked a brow at her. “You mean, did I start using to escape from a clubhouse full of dickheads?”
She gasped, lifting one of those dainty hands to her face.
“My god no, that’s not what… well, in a roundabout way, but I didn’t mean to insult anyone.”
I grinned, finally slipping into the other seat, opposite her.
“You didn’t. I did. Some of them are dickheads. At least some of the time, but it can be fun, or at least it used to be. I don’t really remember what it was like before, but I know I was happy here. Even while I was using, it was home, but now it just feels jarring. Everything does. Like I’m not in my body anymore, and if only that were fucking true.” Jesus. I’m supposed to be more careful than that.
She stared at me shrewdly.
“You mentioned pain before. Is that what’s going on? Is there some illness or injury you feel you have to hide from your club? You can talk to me, Ice. I’d never tell a soul anything you confide in me.”
I glanced at the door. “What about if Reacher asks?”
She laughed, shaking her head slowly.
“He’s not the boss of me.”
I bit back a groan at the thought of being the boss of her.
“Is that what you like in a man? Fuck. Ignore me. That’s not appropriate.”
She bit her lip. “I think you’re deflecting, Ice, but you don’t have to hide behind any bravado with me. Tell me about your pain. Is it physical or emotional? We have plenty of time.”
I stared at my phone, and at the time.
“Well, you say that, but my appointment was for ten, and it’s already gone eleven. Don’t you have other… I dunno, what are we? Patients, I guess. Clients?”
She looked away, but I caught it; a guilty look on her face.
“Are you missing another appointment, or something, by being here?”
“Ice, you’re trying to change the subject on me.”
Nice try, doc. “I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re doing right now. Are you supposed to be somewhere else? I’m not a charity case. I can handle it if you need to go.” Hell, as I said it, I realised it was the last thing I wanted.
Lissa
H e was going to make me say it. Damn. I took a breath, knowing exactly how this was going to sound to him.
“Ice, calm down. It’s… it’s my day off, okay? You’re not making me miss anyone else’s appointment.”
His face seemed to freeze for a moment, then his mouth dropped open. I could see his mind racing, which sounds so weird, but I could tell he was working things out in his head as he stared at me, with wide grey eyes.
“You gave me an appointment on your day off.”
I swallowed hard, staring right back at him.
“You were on call for me, when you shouldn’t have been.”
Hell, it sounded so bad when he laid it out like that for me. I was starting to feel like some kind of predator.
“Well… I’m… you’re at a crucial time in your recovery.”
“Bullshit. Try again.”
I sipped my coffee while I stalled, because what was my excuse? It wasn’t so much that he needed me to drop everything for him. He could have seen another therapist. It wasn’t that I had nothing going on in my home life, although, I really didn’t have anything to go home to.
It was him. Something about him made me want to spend time with him. Talk to him. Listen to him. Touch him. Be touched by him. I knew I was getting in over my head with him.
I stood up, pushing my drink aside.
“I should go, unless you have more you want to talk about. For uh… for your recovery.”
He stood up too. “I’m pretty sure we’re in the middle of a conversation right now, Doc. Where you running off to?”
I sighed, feeling trapped, and knowing I was about to say too much.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have prioritised you over… I shouldn’t have… I’ll go, Ice. Make a new appointment, and we’ll arrange for someone else to work with you.”
“What the fuck? I’m just getting used to you. I don’t want some other fucker poking around inside my head.” He was approaching me, and I backed up, because there had to be distance between us. It wasn’t appropriate to eliminate that distance, and get too close, but wasn’t I already?
The wall hit my back, but he didn’t stop advancing.
“Ice…”
“You afraid of me, Doc? Because there’s only two reasons you’d be flushed like that, and breathing so hard, and I’d prefer it to be for the other one.” He stopped close, so close. One hand braced him against the wall, his body almost touching mine. I could smell him. His cologne, or some other product he’d used. It was masculine. Musky. Dark.
“Doc? Take deeper breaths, or you’ll pass out.” His fingers stroked my cheek, and I wanted to lean into his touch.
“This isn’t appropriate, Ice.” My voice was barely audible.
“You’ve been making time for me, Doc. Seems like a lot of effort to go to for just another druggie loser. So what’s the reason for your… uh… attention?” He leaned closer, his fingers stroking the side of my neck. I was trembling. I could feel myself warming up at his proximity, at the way I wanted to just arch away from the wall, to feel his body against mine.
“You came all the way out here, Doc. A special trip, just to see little old me.” His voice was low, gruff, making me tingle inside. “Or should I call you Lissa?”
He remembered. I swallowed hard again.
“I shouldn’t be here, Ice.”
His lips curved up slightly, and suddenly I wondered which one of us was truly the predator, and who was the prey.
“And yet you are, not only in my clubhouse, but in my room. My private space. Where I live. Where I sleep. Where I lay awake, thinking about you .” My eyes flicked in the direction of his bed, and my heart raced faster.
“Thinking about me?”
His fingers returned to my cheek, and I closed my eyes, relishing the warmth of his touch.
“Thinking all sorts of things, Doc. Naughty things. Sexy things. Wondering how you look under all these prissy clothes. Wondering how you look when you orgasm.”
I shuddered, noticing he’d pressed a little closer.
“I thought you were going to call me Lissa?”
He grinned again. “You didn’t say I could. I’m all about… consent… Doc.” He leaned closer still, his lips an inch from mine.
“Ice…”
“Can I, Doc?”
I nodded vehemently, throwing caution to the wind, because it was all I wanted.
“Yes, kiss me, Ice.”
He chuckled quietly. “I meant, can I call you Lissa… but hell yes to that too.” He pressed his lips against mine, and I felt myself relax against him. He teased at my lips with his, his body moving closer, as he pecked and nipped at my lips. When he pulled back, I was fully frustrated with him, for not kissing me like I wanted him to. I wanted his tongue. I wanted to taste him. I wanted him devouring me. A smaller part of me was swooning at how sweet and sexy his kisses had been. I wondered then if it was time for me to get a therapist myself.
“What kind of therapy is this, Lissa? I think I’m gonna need a lot of it.”
He grinned, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip, while I stared back at him, trying to silently beg him to kiss me again, and then some asshole banged on his door, making both of us jump, our bodies moving apart instantly.
“The fuck.” I only just heard his muttered curse, as he grabbed the door, and wrenched it open.