Chapter Five
As hangovers went, this morning’s wasn’t so bad.
I’d kept my breakfast down thus far and managed to communicate on some level with our guests before they finally vacated the premises.
Dad and Emma had left soon after and with them any remaining awkwardness over last night’s affairs, leaving me to collapse gratefully into a sun lounger and sleep the remainder of the morning away.
I awoke to the shrill sound of my cell, the vibrating device traveling across the metal side table with an excruciating rattle. Groaning, I flung my hand out and grabbed the beastly thing, answering the call just as I registered the number to be Unknown.
“Hello?” I croaked.
“Miss Sawyer?” came a smooth feminine tone.
“Yes.”
“It’s Cara, Dr Tate’s secretary.”
Shit! My shrink! I checked my watch. My appointment had been scheduled for ten minutes previous.
“We were just wondering if you were on your way.”
“Apologies, I’ve been” — I coughed — “unwell this morning.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that, Miss Sawyer. Dr Tate was hoping we could reschedule for later today but—”
“Later is fine,” I interjected, guilt and eagerness to see him kicking in. “What time?”
“Would two-thirty suit?”
That would give me an hour to get ready and go. “Absolutely.”
“Excellent, Dr Tate will be very pleased. Goodbye, Miss Sawyer.”
Hanging up the call, I flopped back against the lounger.
I just needed to muster the energy to move.
Once I was in the sanctity of his office I could relax and let go of this pent-up emotion.
He could put the hard work into making sense of my chaotic thoughts, recent discoveries and my sudden gay tendencies.
I just couldn’t get my head around any of it.
Even in the cold light of a new day, the memory of Emma and her naked form kick-started an excitement in me that I couldn’t shake.
Jumping in the shower, I turned on the jets in the hope that the water would somehow cleanse my brain and lift the post-drinking fog.
I was wrong. My body reveled in the harsh onslaught of the water against my sensitized skin, still raw from the abrasive wall, and my mind flooded with images of her — her seductive smile, her teasing tongue, her body entwined with Diana and their erotic play. ..
I knew I didn’t have the time for it but I reached for the showerhead anyway, bringing it down and instinctively navigating it to where my body craved its pleasurable force most. I inhaled sharply as it made contact with my painfully taut nipples, the relentless stream sending sparks of delight rippling through me as I envisaged Emma upon me, teasing me, coaxing me .
.. I visualized her mouth travelling down my front as her hands pressed my thighs apart and shamelessly raised my leg to the wall, offering up my clit to the strumming beat of the water . .. her tongue.
My orgasm came fast and strong, the force of it sending me back against the cold wall and the showerhead dropping with a thud to the floor. It immediately sprang to life, the freed head lunging around like a live snake as it sprayed water this way and that.
“Shit!” I swore, my post-orgasm calm dissipating as I took in the soaked room and grabbed the blasted thing.
I was just setting it back into its holder when a banging started up on the bathroom door.
I cleared my throat to call out, but Lily’s voice beat me to it. “Miss Sawyer? Are you okay?”
Bloody hell! Now I had Lily in a tizz. “Hey, Lily, all good, just dropped the bottle.”
“Good, good, I was worried when I realized you were still at home, and then I heard the bang. I hope your father didn’t get you so tipsy last night that you’re only just moving.”
I smiled. Her gentle admonishment of him was amusing and her worry for me, endearing. She really did make living under this roof much more bearable. Her, the stables, my car, and the gym, they were the things that I lived for. Or at least I used to.
“Don’t worry, Lily, I’m fine.”
But was I fine? I had no idea. Life had suddenly been turned on its head. It wasn’t like I’d had a “normal” existence before. Certainly not the average Joe when living with a man like my stepfather. But now...
I couldn’t even begin to imagine a man ever evoking the same intense reaction in me as Emma had with just a look.
What did that mean? At twenty-two, was I suddenly going to change my sexuality or was it her?
And only her? For the first time in a long time, I really needed that shrink appointment.
The realization had me racing out of the shower and drying myself off.
Lily disappeared about her business once she was satisfied all was well and established that I would be home for dinner that night which freed me to get dressed in peace.
I pulled on a simple pair of jeans and a hoody, grateful that my shrink didn’t require me to maintain a superficial high-class demeanor like my stepfather, he was happy to let me be me.
In fact, he preferred it that way. It “encouraged honesty” he had once told Dad after witnessing him berating me for my lack of finesse.
I smiled at the memory. Since then he’d been a firm favorite in my book, my confidante, paid for or otherwise.
He’d helped me through the death of my mother at the influential age of eight, protected my sanity from my overbearing stepfather and the many women he had inflicted on me over the years.
Would this latest revelation surprise him? Probably not...
Clothed and ready to face the music, I jumped into my convertible Mustang, turned the music up high and blasted away any remaining cobwebs.
Yes, there definitely were some things I had to be grateful to Daddy for and the powerful V8 engine beneath me was one of them.
And, yes, I could leave him; he certainly deserved to be alone.
But giving up my lifestyle was no easy feat and the idea was frankly terrifying.
Pulling into the basement parking lot of the exclusive office building, I shook off the uneasy thought.
He wasn’t really around all that much. So long as he didn’t push his matchmaking schemes too far things would be okay.
Stepping out of the car, I leaned across the front seat to extract my handbag—
“Abi?”
I’d know that voice anywhere. Straightening up, I spun on my heel to face its captivating owner, Emma.
She oozed both sex and sophistication. Her hair pulled back in a severe ponytail accentuating her high cheekbones and enchanting green eyes.
Her enviable figure, encased in a perfectly tailored gray suit and green satin blouse, was jaw-droppingly statuesque, made all the more so by another pair of stilettos, this time in the subtle shade of gray.
Finally, I stopped gawping long enough to speak. “Emma, what are you doing here?”
“Same as you I expect,” she smiled, her gaze traveling the length of me, taking in my casual state of dress and making me feel self-conscious.
She had the same ability as Dad, to make me feel unworthy with just a look.
But with her it wasn’t the way she looked at me.
No, she looked genuinely delighted right now.
It was how I saw her that made me feel so inadequate. She was a goddess and I ... blah.
Stressing over my appearance, delayed her words sinking in — same as me? — what could she mean by that?
“I get the impression your stepfather keeps all of the women in his life on a tight leash,” she added.
“You’re here to see Dr Tate?”
She eyed me, her expression turning wary at my obvious confusion. “Are you not aware of anyone else having visited him?”
By anyone else, she clearly meant his previous women.
“No, should I have been?” I asked.
“No ... no, of course not,” she said, pasting on a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, Abi, forget I said anything, I’ll see you later.”
“Emma, wait...” I reached out to catch her arm but she pulled back from the contact.
“I have to go, your stepfather is expecting me home.” She flicked her eyes about her nervously and then turned and walked away.
I watched after her, frozen to the spot, completely flummoxed. What the hell was he playing at? She couldn’t mean that he’d arranged for her to see Dr Tate too. A growing feeling of unease set in. The suggestion that he sent all his women here was positively worrying.
I’d always believed these appointments to be the one caring thing my stepfather had ever done for me, giving me an outlet where I could vent my frustrations, talk about my deepest fears, feel like I wasn’t alone...
However, come to think of it, when had he done anything that wasn’t about his own gain? Would he sink as low as to use a shrink? It would be the perfect way to keep abreast of every little thing that went on in my world. But to what end?
And what about doctor-client confidentiality?
Betrayal cut through me like a knife. Dr Tate was my safety blanket, I trusted him more than anyone else l knew.
Could he really be capable of such duplicity?
But even as I thought it, I knew it was true.
After all, it was amazing what someone would do when you threw enough money at them.
Life with Dad had certainly taught me that.
Suddenly, I felt bereft; the warm, fuzzy feeling that normally accompanied these sessions replaced with cold apprehension.
What was I to do now? I couldn’t very well turn away and leave.
Dad would know something was up and then I’d have to face that showdown, something I didn’t want to do until I knew the real reason behind these sessions, and anything else my stepfather might be keeping from me.
Mind made up, I locked the car and headed to the office, keen not to be late. Until I established the extent of Dr Tate’s involvement with my stepfather, I would simply have to watch what I said...