Chapter 12 Dylan #2
“Invite them to set. Make sure they know they can always reach me even when I’m on location.
Spend as much free time with them as possible.
I can’t imagine myself not doing whatever it takes to make sure they know that.
I guess one of the reasons I’m always with the actresses I work with is because I never have to explain what my job is like to them.
And they’re there when I’m doing it. I mean, there are other reasons too, obviously.
The parts we play, and the…” I go off on a tangent about the chemistry I create with the actresses who play my love interests for a while.
I guess I feel the need to explain it to her.
That I might get caught up in it when it’s happening, but I know it’s not real.
I may have said this to her before though.
I’ve lost her.
I had her and I lost her.
I don’t know which of us has been watching and studying each other more intently, but we were both so aware of each other, I could feel it, and now I feel her distancing herself from me.
I want to get her back.
I need it.
I don’t know if I need her, and I know she doesn’t need me right now, but I need her to want me.
“There’s a fantasy I keep having… Is it okay for me to tell you?”
Her body stiffens a little more, but she tries to appear relaxed and open. “I’m listening.”
“There’s a woman. A woman I’ve never seen before.
A beautiful stranger. Sometimes we’re in a grocery store.
Sometimes we’re in a bar. Sometimes we’re hiking Runyon Canyon.
Sometimes we’re in an elevator. But she’s always wearing the same thing.
A red dress. Hits above the knee. Super casual.
But elegant, somehow, and sexy as hell. Her long hair’s slung over one shoulder.
She’s never looking at me when I spot her. But her shoelaces are untied.”
Scarlett recrosses her legs. My cat is still in her lap, but she squeezes her thighs together, wriggles around in her chair.
She’s trying so hard to maintain a neutral expression, but I would bet everything I have that there is nothing neutral about what’s going on between those gorgeous legs of hers.
“I never actually say anything in the fantasy. Sometimes I just step in front of her. She acknowledges me. If we’re in a grocery store, I follow her to her car in the parking lot and then tap her on the shoulder, startling her.
There’s no one else around. If we’re in a bar, I follow her to an empty hallway in the back.
Runyon Canyon, she leads me behind a tree and leans against it.
The elevator’s the best. But there’s never anyone else around.
“I drop to my knees, slowly. Once I’ve tied her shoelaces, I graze my fingers up the sides of her bare legs.
The skin of her legs is so smooth. She smells like cocoa butter and vanilla, and it makes my mouth water.
She has to be somewhere, soon. She doesn’t say so.
I can just tell. But I don’t move out of the way.
I stroke her thighs and plant kisses up the inside of her leg.
She’s surprised, but she doesn’t protest. She reaches behind herself, grabs on to whatever she can for support. That’s how I know she wants it.
“I tell her how much I want her. With filthy words, with my hands, with my fingers. Her fingers are in my hair and she’s trembling.
I reach beneath her dress and find the cotton panties that I just knew she was wearing, and I don’t know why that’s so sexy to me, but it is.
I guess it’s because cotton panties are easier to rip apart than any other fabric.
And I do that. I tear those panties at the seam because I’m so, so into her—I can control myself, but I don’t want to. She’s so incredibly wet for me, and I—”
“Okay, I think I get the picture.” She clears her throat.
“There’s more. A lot more. It gets really good for her.”
“I have no doubt, but I think I understand. There’s a woman who’s supposed to be somewhere else, but you help her in a way that she didn’t know she needed to be helped, and then you prevent her from leaving you.”
“Well, when you put it that way.” I frown.
“That seems to be the gist of it.”
“Me making her come harder than she ever has in her life is the gist of it, actually.”
She shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. “Just my opinion.”
“So you’ve formed an opinion already before hearing how it all plays out?”
“I’m trained to observe and analyze people.”
“So am I. We have very differing opinions.”
“You are not required to accept my analysis, but you should probably calm down.”
“I am calm. You’re the one who’s getting worked up. Probably because you’re dying to hear what comes next but you’re afraid you can’t handle it.”
She stands up and brings the kitten over, gently places her inside the pet tote that’s on the sofa next to me, zips it up, and then walks over to her desk. “I think we should wrap things up, Dylan.”
“My time isn’t up yet.”
“I apologize. I have to be somewhere. We can make up the time at our next session.”
“You never take notes.” I pick up the tote bag, but I have to point this out to her.
“What?”
“You never take notes when I’m talking.”
“I do. After you’ve gone.”
“Did you write down what I said about wanting a safe place to land? After the first session?”
“I’m not in the habit of discussing my notes with patients.”
“If I crossed a line, just tell me. I didn’t name names. Sexual fantasies seem like a pretty basic topic of discussion in a marriage and family therapist’s office.”
She’s still tense, but her shoulders relax a little. She doesn’t stop frowning at me, but at least she can look me in the eye again. “You didn’t cross a line. But as I said, I heard enough.”
“Okay. If you want to hear more, just let me know.”
She gives me a perfunctory nod. “Have a good week.” She starts packing things up into her giant bag. I don’t think she’s even packing up things she actually needs. I think she’s just trying to keep her hands busy.
If I didn’t have Mr. Noodles here with me, I would probably walk over, grab her wrists to hold her still, and kiss her until she begged me to tell her what happens next, and I would show her instead.
She surprises me by stopping what she’s doing, looking over at me, and holding my gaze. There’s fire in those eyes. She’s been trying to temper it ever since I walked in here today, or since last week, or for years maybe even. But it’s there. I see it.
I can be patient.
Interesting choice of words.
I am her patient.
I will be patient.
And one day, she will beg me to tell her what happens next, and I will show her instead.
“You too, Dr. Shepard. See you next Thursday.”