Chapter 18 Post
POST
KAT
The next morning, Zayn rises and leaves before me again. A text informs me that he will be in front of Pearson House at eight-thirty sharp to pick me up for work.
It’s eight-thirty on the dot when Zayn pulls into the long driveway toward where I stand under the balcony in front of the garage. His shiny black BMW glimmers in the fine mist falling from the heavy clouds.
He exits the vehicle and approaches me, planting a gentle kiss on my lips. He takes my overnight bag from my hands and places it in his trunk.
I follow him and just about choke when I peer down.
“Um, are those… chains?” I quirk an eyebrow as my gaze shifts up to Zayn. “Do I even want to know why you have those just lying in your trunk?”
“I don’t know baby… do you?” Zayn replies, giving me a small wink.
He’s being playful, but I get the sense that there is something he isn’t telling me. I decide that I don’t want to know, at least not right now. I told him last night I would practice trust. I owed him my sincere effort, at the very least.
Briefly, I wonder if those chains are meant for me, or for someone else. Guess I’ll find out. I walk around to my side of the car.
Opening the door and dipping down into the passenger seat, I am enveloped by Zayn’s scent: rain and woodsmoke, with a hint of something spicy. I settle into my seat and the luxurious black leather feels cool and buttery under my legs.
Zayn walks around his side of the car. I glance at him over my left shoulder, appreciating the assuredness and agility in his every movement. Zayn slides into the driver’s seat, turns the engine over, and we fly off down the drive.
Sometime later, Zayn has successfully, and sexily, navigated the many winding twists and turns of the rain slicked roads.
Watching his huge, veined hand work the stick up and down has been…
doing something to me. I conspicuously rub my legs together, attempting to subtly tame some of the growing heat and ache building there.
I glance down at his hand again as it flexes over the leather stick.
Subtly, I wiggle again and bite at my bottom lip.
“Something on your mind, Doc?” Zayn queries with a bit of a smirk in his rich voice.
I look sideways at him to find he is staring not at the road, but directly at me. We hold eye contact for a second that feels much longer than it is. Suddenly, he downshifts into fourth gear, and my head hits the leather headrest as we launch forward.
“Zayn!” I squeal. “Look at the road, you idiot, not me.”
“Sorry baby, but it’s hard not to look at you,” is his earnest reply.
Jackass, I think. Also, I am positive that I have never, ever in my life, squealed before.
What in the ever-loving fuck was this man doing to me?
The engine purrs, and I am suddenly very aware of my smooth thighs rubbing together again under my black skirt.
I distractedly bite at the inside of my cheek to keep from reaching my hand down into my panties.
We fly down a straightway of the rain-soaked road.
“Hmm,” Zayn growls out. “I think you need a distraction baby.” He punches the audio power button with a knuckle.
Immediately, “New Born” by Muse comes blaring out of the speakers. Zayn moves his hand up to turn down the volume, but I place my hand over his.
“Leave it,” I say.
Everything about this car, from the music to the scent is just so completely Zayn, and I kind of love it.
I begin to pull my hand away, but Zayn captures mine in his own.
Smiling, I let him pull my hand down to the stick shift.
He nods to me, and I shift upward into fifth gear.
Another minute later, he nods to me again, and I shift down into sixth.
I relish at the power and speed of the car, the sound of the engine, and the tension crackling between us.
Zayn’s warm, callused hand feels so good on top of mine.
Briefly, I remember how Zayn’s body feels too.
A little shiver runs up my spine at that thought, and I rub my legs together again, longing for friction at the apex of my thighs.
Zayn glances down at me sideways, and his tongue darts out to lick at his bottom lip.
Jesus Christ, nothing gets past this man. He is so damn perceptive.
Without another glance, Zayn reaches out and places his hand midway up on my outer thigh.
“This okay with you?” he asks.
Yes, yes, YES, my mind screams out.
“Mmhmm,” I reply, a smile playing across my lips. “Only if you promise to keep it there for the remainder of the drive.”
“You got it, baby,” Zayn quips and lets his hand relax and cover my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. True to his word, Zayn leaves his hand in place, removing it only briefly to shift gears until we are pulling into the parking lot of my office building.
Zayn puts the car in park, leaving the engine running. With a good amount of hesitation, I lean over to unbuckle myself and reach down for my leather bag.
“Well, um, thanks for the ride,” I say awkwardly.
I suddenly don’t know how to meet his gaze at this moment. Am I his booty call? Is he my boyfriend? Is this going to be a regular thing now, him dropping me off at work?
And as if reading my mind, Zayn replies, “I certainly hope this will be a regular thing for us, baby. I’ll be back here at six sharp to pick you up.” He grins.
Incredulous, I just nod at him. Of course, he knows my goddamn schedule. He had been stalking me for weeks, hadn’t he? Zayn leans over to kiss me, and I transcend. His hot lips meet mine and gently tease my mouth open. His tongue darts forward, and he nips at my lower lip. I tremble.
Breaking off the kiss, I drag myself away from his lips and out of my seat. Fuck, I think, it is physically painful pulling away from him. A thought that should terrify me. And yet, it doesn’t.
Hopefully my first patient isn’t here early and didn’t have to just witness their therapist getting a panty-soaking kiss from a towering, tall, dark, and handsome stranger in a mysterious black sports car. I slip on my dark sunglasses and exit the car.
I reach my office building in a haze, feeling slightly drunk from Zayn’s kiss, which still echoes across my lips.
How I was going to focus enough to be present for my patients today, I do not know.
I steal a glance over my shoulder as I pull open the outer office door.
Zayn remains in his car, engine running—watching me, I’m sure.
Though, it’s impossible to tell through the near black out tint of the windows.
But I can feel his eyes on me. Swinging my ass a little more than is necessary, I step forward and over the threshold into the office, my lips curling up into a smile.
____________________
ZAYN
With Katherine not in the car, I can truly let loose on these roads. Her office is a forty-minute drive from Pearson House. I make it there in twenty-five.
The many raised scars on my forearms stretch and strain as I shift and twist the steering wheel.
Those scars, now shiny and silvery, were not so long ago red and angry.
Like I too, was red and angry. And in the deepest parts of my heart, probably still am.
But being close to Katherine soothes those parts of me.
That wrenching in my soul, that absolute blackness that for so many years had threatened to descend and take over…
somehow her darkness matches that within me and soothes it.
Neutralizes it. Like hydrochloric acid and sodium hydroxide.
Two equal and opposing forces. Meeting and joining and neutralizing, softening, and somehow just making right.
That was it: It just felt so fucking right with her. It always did. But especially now, getting to be close to her, getting to hold her, and fuck her… just like I had dreamt about for years.
It was almost as though I had stumbled into a dream that ferried me away from my past. From the brutality of my father, the years of self-harm and despair.
The pangs of watching her from afar and yearning for her every fall.
Kat’s dark eyes, closing in ecstasy last night play through my mind.
I fixate on the image of her mouth, opening to moan out my name.
And fuck, her scent: lavender, eucalyptus, and something sweeter.
Dark honey or black cherries maybe. I wanted it all over me.
Katherine was fucking intoxicating, there was no denying it.
I am in love with this woman. And as I watch her walking out of her office towards me now, I hope I always will be.
My dark little one. My Doc. Sad. Damaged. Uncertain. But whole and electric and alive under my touch. And by my side.
I lean over and open the passenger door for her. I am treated to that stunning smile of hers, the one she gives too rarely. Her sweet scent fills my car as she gracefully slides in. She lowers her black sunglasses, allowing her dark eyes to meet mine.
“Hey, gorgeous,” I offer with a dark little smile of my own.
“Hey,” she responds simply.
“How was your day, dear?” I ask, gently grasping her hand and bringing her knuckles up to my lips for a chaste kiss.
Her eyes move to my mouth and linger there, her pupils beginning to dilate. She doesn’t answer me but instead holds my gaze and slowly licks her lower lip.
“That good, huh? You weren’t by any chance… thinking about me, were you?” I tease.
“I-I was indeed, if you can believe it,” she says, “I thought about you during session, and in between sessions, and basically every second that I shouldn’t have been thinking about you.”
Well, fuck. “Same here, baby.” Without hesitation, I close the distance between us and claim her mouth with mine.