Chapter 20 #2
Guilt wins. I say, "This ends now." It comes out steadier than I feel. Inside, everything is vibrating with shock, shame, anger, and desire braided tightly.
Blue smiles slowly. "That's funny. I think it ended a few minutes ago when I swallowed your cum." She bats her eyes.
I step closer, snapping, "You crossed a line. No. You didn't just cross it. You obliterated it."
Her eyes sharpen. "So did you."
Her words land clean and brutal. I shake my head. "No. Don't you dare—"
"You let it happen. You told her to close her eyes. You had her count."
"That was containment. I was protecting a patient."
Blue scoffs, "You stayed right there. You could have gotten up, but you stayed seated with your dick in my face and allowed me to keep my hands on you."
I open my mouth, then shut it again. Denial won't survive this room. She's right, and I hate myself for it.
She softens her tone. "It's okay, Red."
My hands curl into fists. "It's not okay! You ambushed me. In my office. During another patient's session."
She throws her hands in the air. "And you still chose. You always do. Stop denying you want me."
The silence stretches, thick and suffocating.
She laughs. It's short and sharp. "You told her she isn't hideous."
There it is.
Jealousy, naked and unfiltered.
I stiffen. "So what? She's not hideous. Most people aren't."
Hurt flies through her expression so fast, it makes my heart drop. Her voice shakes. "You said it the same way you said it to me. Calm. Certain. Like it mattered."
I roar, "It did matter. She's a person hurting right now and shouldn't think poorly of herself."
Blue snaps, "I hurt, too. And you didn't hesitate to tell me the same damn thing."
I step closer before I realize I'm moving. I assert low and fierce, "I told you you're beautiful, too. There is a difference between telling someone they aren't hideous and telling someone they're beautiful. You know that."
She searches my face like she's cataloging every crack.
I add, "I've never told a patient they're beautiful, only you."
She blinks hard, her eyes welling.
I inhale sharply. "Don't."
Her gaze drops, then she recovers. She lifts her head, challenging, "Tell me I didn't just give you the hottest blowjob ever."
I stay silent.
"Tell me it isn't a fantasy therapists have," she adds.
It's a blade slicing through my moral compass. I growl, "That's not the point."
She tilts her head. "It's exactly the point. So admit you loved it! That you loved me doing it to you, even if the fantasy you had was a faceless woman until I came into the picture!"
How does she know?
My restraint snaps. "You don't get to come into my office, demanding things from me, and pretending you're untouched."
"Pretending?"
"Yes."
Her smile turns wicked. "You think I'm lying about my virginity?"
I step closer and lean my face over hers. "I think no one inexperienced moves like that. I think you knew exactly what you were doing."
Her eyes flash. "I am a virgin, Dr. Mercer. Well, no longer a virgin in the kissing, getting my tits played with, or blowjob category. And that's thanks to you."
I bark a humorless laugh. "You expect me to believe that?"
"Yes. And you haven't taken everything yet, but don't worry. I'm still reserving myself for you and your beautiful cock."
My blood shoots through my veins. The room stills and all I taste is her arousal lingering on my tongue.
She slides off the desk and steps closer, stopping just out of reach. She softly states, "Once you do, you'll owe me an apology."
My pulse roars in my ears. The thought of what it would be like to have her clutching me and shuddering as my cock slides into her tight pussy makes all the chaos inside me worsen. I bark, "That's not how this works."
"That's how we work. You keep pretending you're the only one who gets to decide what happens between us. But you're not. You chose me today. I chose you like I always do, but you chose me, too."
I rake a hand through my hair. "I chose wrong. And I'm way too old for you."
Her expression flickers like I slapped her. But it's just for a second. Then it hardens again. "Fifteen years. Big deal."
"It is," I insist.
She claims, "You chose honestly today. Just admit it."
"I got swept up in temptation," I confess.
She reaches up and puts her hands on my cheeks. "Look at me, Red. Really look at me. Not as a patient. Not as a threat."
I stare at the wall for ten seconds, then slowly meet her gaze. And what I see scares the shit out of me.
She's a woman who wants all of me. It involves intimacy on a level I don't ever allow myself to go to, full trust, and a love so deep we'll possibly drown.
I blurt out, "This can't happen again. Ever."
Pain flickers on her. Then she says, "Then stop wanting me."
I don't answer, stopping myself from revealing that I can't. No matter how hard I've tried, I can't.
She steps back, flips the hourglass, then retrieves her bag from under the desk.
She smooths her dress like she didn't just detonate my career.
She saunters over to the door and pauses.
"You can hate me, but you talk all the time about honesty.
At least I'm honest with you. So do yourself a favor and don't lie to yourself. "
My pulse pounds between my ears.
She blinks hard and exits.
I stand alone in my office, staring at the hourglass, watching the blue grains fall and knowing I didn't just fail a boundary.
I dismantled it.