20.5 – Dr. Weiss
DR. WEISS
Night Ten
S adie’s eyes widen as she steps into my suite. She scans the room in awe, stopping when she sees the replica of “the wall.”
Her victims are frozen in time at the crime scene, and there are photos of her walking in and out of the courtroom.
Wincing, she turns away from it.
“Which door goes to your bathroom?” she asks.
I motion for her to follow me, and I hit the lights. Then I grab the oversized red box from under the sink and sit on the edge of the tub.
Without saying a word, she flips it open and rummages through the supplies.
Outside my window, nature’s night strikes up a symphony. Sheets of soft rain attack the glass while a low thunder growls in the distance.
Sadie’s nipples are poking through her thin, white T-shirt, tempting me to suck them, but I resist.
She turns around with a mouthful of Q-Tips and tubes of treatment creams in her hand.
“You don’t have to use all of those on me,” I say. “Just one of each is good enough.”
“Do you want my help or not, Doctor?”
I smile. “I do, Patient.”
“Then can you please hold off on your condescension until I’m finished?”
“My apologies.” I watch as she gets on her knees before me and gently dabs my cut with a Q-tip. Whenever our eyes meet, her cheeks flush a deep red.
“How did you hurt yourself?” she asks, her voice soft. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I didn’t realize anything was wrong until I came back here,” I say. “I have a very high tolerance for pain.”
“For someone who demands that all his questions are thoroughly answered, you sure do suck at answering them from other people.”
“Noted.” I hold back a laugh. “Knowing that I wouldn’t have any free time for a while, I went to a bar and—” I wince as she presses the cold tip of her finger against the edges of the cut, freeing a shard of glass from my skin.
“I’m sorry…” she mutters, sensing my soreness.
“I didn’t realize I was sitting in a customer’s so-called favorite booth, but I refused to move because I was there first,” I say. “He approached me in the parking lot with a bottle.”
“Did you call 9-1-1?”
“I pulled a bat from my trunk,” I say. “I’m sure someone called the ambulance for him, though... I didn’t realize how bad the wound was until I took off my shirt.”
She nods. “Thank you for thoroughly answering.”
“You’re welcome.” I watch as she pulls a needle and thread from the kit and carefully sews my skin.
I’m actually impressed with her technique…
It’s not until she’s spreading the third layer of gel atop the stitches that I realize she’s stalling on purpose.
I don’t mind in the slightest, but I can sense the reason isn’t for me.
“I think it’s fine now,” I say, gently grabbing her wrist. “Thank you.”
“You need a layer of antibiotic cream.” She jumps up and grabs it from the toolkit. “And maybe I can also look at the bigger wound? Make sure it’s free from bits of glass?”
“I can assure you it’s fine.”
“But—”
“Why are you stalling?” I ask.
“I’m not, I—” The deer-in-headlights look on her face is a dead giveaway. “I just want to be sure you’re alright.”
“Sadie.” I join her at the sink, caging her in between my arms. “Tell me the truth.”
“You shouldn’t be this close to me,” she whispers. “The cameras.”
“There aren’t any cameras on my side of the cabin.” I pin her in place with my hips, making sure she can’t move. “Why would I ever allow that?”
“I really just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m more than okay,” I say. “It’s time to tell me why you’re not, though.”
“Dr. Weiss, with all due respect?—”
Thunder cracks and a strike of lightning flashes through the window, cutting off her sentence. She suddenly clings to me, shaking.
“So, you still have astraphobia?”
“I’m not scared of the rain.” She’s still trembling. “It’s the thunderstorms.”
“How do you deal with this when you’re at the prison?”
“I don’t,” she says. “My cell is in the corner of the wing, where it’s the most insulated from the outside, so I hardly ever hear anything. I shut my eyes to block out the lightning through the window, but unless it was a really bad storm… I have to distract myself.”
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll help distract you then.”
“You’ll let me finish with your cut?”
“No.” I’m done with that. “What were you thinking about before you came to the kitchen to see me?”
Her cheeks flush pink and she opens her mouth, but no words fall from her lips.
“Do I need to repeat my question?” I ask.
“I wasn’t thinking about anything,” she says. “I was trying to sleep.”
“Okay.” I pause as a round of thunder rattles the windows. “So, I misheard you moaning, ‘Your pussy feels so good on my cock, Sadie?’”
“Yes…”
“And you weren’t thinking about me coming to your side of the cabin and fucking you at all?”
“Of course not...”
“That’s good to know, then.” I bend low and kiss her breast through her shirt, sucking on her nipple until she moans. “Because even if I were to come to your side of the cabin, I wouldn’t fuck you.”
Why not? Her eyes ask, while her breathing slows.
“Because I’d want to taste you first.” I grip her waist and lift her atop the sink.
Without wasting time, I push her thighs apart and lower my head. I drag my tongue through her folds, slowly at first, savoring the taste of her arousal. Her fingers thread into my hair as she arches against my mouth.
She gasps my name—once, twice—until I slide two fingers inside her and curl them just right.
“Ride my fucking hand,” I growl, flicking my tongue against her clit as she trembles. Her thighs clamp around my head, her moans desperate and high.
She grinds harder, wetter, until she breaks apart against my mouth, her loud screams muffled against her arm.
Panting, I stare into her eyes as the storm continues outside. For a second, I forget about the cameras that may be searching for her. About everything except the way she just came undone in my hands.
I slowly slide my hand away from her and grab a towel. I take my time wiping between her legs, waiting for her to stop shaking.
“Feel better?”
“Yes, Dr. Weiss.”
“Ethan,” I correct her. “When we’re on this side, anyway. Clear?”
“Clear, Ethan…” She looks up at me. “Have you ever done that with any of your other patients?”
“Never.”
Before I can make the mistake of keeping her out of the cameras’ sight for too long, I help her down and lead her toward the hall.
“I’ll meet you back on your side,” I say, whispering.
She nods and walks in view of the cameras.
I pull on a T-shirt and catch up to her in the kitchen.
“Thank you for helping me with my wound, Miss Pretty,” I say.
“You’re very welcome, Dr. Weiss.”
“Let’s push tomorrow’s morning session back by two hours so you can catch up on your sleep.”
“I would appreciate that.”
Heavier rains attack the roof. She looks unsure of what to do—like she’s tempted to run back to my side or suffer alone.
“I have some noise-canceling headphones,” I say. “Would you like to borrow them for the rest of your stay?”
“Yes, please…”
I walk over to the living room coffee table and pull out the drawer. I hand them to her and she smiles.
“Thank you very much.” She starts to walk toward her room.
“Quick question, Miss Pretty.”
“Yes?”
“After all the time you’ve spent in prison so far, you’ve never had to deal with walking outside on a stormy day?”
“High-profile convicts get the least amount of outside privileges, Doctor.”
“I see.”
“Good night, Dr. Weiss.”
“Goodnight, Miss Pretty.”