by ML Michaels
Though he wasn't tormented. At least, not in the way Captain thought. The man was an idiot.
Jamie stewed in his thoughts for some time, before he noticed the girl with the ponytail getting out of her chair. He figured he had about three to five minutes to charm her friend before she came back from the bathroom.
He’d always loved a challenge.
He sauntered over to their table just as the band was getting ready to go back on stage. Good. The louder it was, the closer he would have to get to her.
She didn't notice his approach. She was busy watching the band members arrange their instruments on stage, her face clearly showing a sense of disgust. Maybe she knew one of them. Or maybe they were just really bad.
Jamie sat down in the seat formerly occupied by the girl's friend, and had a moment to admire her figure before she noticed he was there. She was curvy in all the right places, and his eyes locked on to the generous cleavage her tank top presented. He wondered how her tits would feel in his hands.
"I can't believe they're going on again,” she lamented, turning to him. Then she noticed that the person sitting across from her was a male, and not a little farmer girl. "Oh." She blinked. "I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else."
Jamie leaned forward in his seat and studied her face. He watched her bite her lip nervously. "I'm Jamie," he said. "I saw you watching me when I came in."
She immediately began to flush. "I'm sorry! I tend to space out sometimes."
"I was watching you too."
She was immediately silent. He watched a flicker of desire cross her face and grinned.
"What would it take to get you to come home with me?" Jamie purred. He was all business. He wasn't into chatting with girls, learning a bunch of useless shit about them that he would just forget later, just so he could get them into bed. And honestly, he felt they deserved more than that. With his intentions plain, nobody would be left disappointed.
She seemed to straighten up in her chair. "You don't even know my name."
I shrugged. "You don't know mine. We're on even footing."
She laughed, tilting her head back slightly. It gave him an unobstructed view of the long curve of her throat. He might normally have been offended. It wasn't exactly promising when you propositioned a girl for sex and she laughed in your face. But something about the way she laughed seemed to have nothing to do with him, and everything to do with her.
"Adrianne was right," she said. "You are trouble."
He assumed Adrianne was the girl who had clearly told her off for staring before. And now she was back, and standing to the left of him with her hands on her hips.
"Nuh-uh," Adrianne said. "You are so busted, mister."
Jamie grinned wolfishly up at the girl. "And how do you intend to punish me?"
That threw her completely off her game. She turned bright red in the face, and turned to her as-yet unnamed friend for support. The beautiful woman across from Jamie shrugged.
"We were discussing the weather," she said cheekily. "That's all."
Adrianne frowned. "Clara," she stated. "I leave you alone for one minute..."
Jamie decided to take his leave. It wasn't admitting defeat, but a tactical retreat. He had planted the seed in the girl’s—Clara's—head now. If she wanted to, and was able to, she would find a way to come to him. And he could tell from the disappointed look in her eye when he left that she definitely wanted to.
Clara
"Why'd you have to do that!" Clara complained. "He was so hot!"
Adrianne took her seat and took a sip of her beer. "Too hot. So-hot-you-get-burned hot."
She wasn't wrong there. But then, Clara had an idea. "What if it's just sex, huh?" she asked. "What if I don't even learn the guy's name. I go have sex with him, scratch that itch, and then go home with you."
Adrianne burst into laughter. "Where are you planning on having sex with him?"
Clara shrugged. "There's an alley out back. Not like I haven't done it there before."
“You have not,” Adrianne said.
“Okay, you’re right, but I feel like living it up tonight.”
Adrianne took a moment to consider it. "And you won't be upset over it tomorrow?"
Clara shook her head. "Of course not. He's walking sex, and I need a little sex. It's like a business arrangement. You know the last time I trusted too quickly. Women just naturally put more emotion into sex. I really need to step back and at least try to look at it more clinically. It’s a natural part of life. It doesn’t have to mean love and marriage every time.” Clara sounded brave, but she knew herself too well. She wanted love and marriage and children, the whole package. She sometimes worried that she might never find the right man. In the meantime, she had to protect herself so she didn’t get hurt the way she had the last time. “Not everyone had it as easy as you Adrianne.”
Adrianne had never really understood the concept of casual sex. She and her husband had been together since high school, and had been each other's' firsts. The concept of sex without emotional obligation was lost on her.
"Whatever, man," she decided finally. "You're an adult." Then, when Clara shot up to leave, Adrianne added, "Don't be too long! I'll get bored."
Then, like a flash, Clara was gone.
Jamie
Someone who smelled delicious took the seat next to Jamie at the bar, and he couldn't resist taking a look. He glanced down to see the curvy goddess that he had spoken to moments before gazing up at him through her lashes, a mischievous grin on her face.
"I'm going out back for a smoke," she said. "Want to come?"
Jamie knocked back the rest of his beer. "I don't smoke."
She winked at him and lowered herself off of the stool. "Neither do I."
That was all the invitation Jamie’s cock needed to stiffen. He followed her through the crowd, gazing appreciatively at her juicy, round ass, and stepped out into the cool night air behind the bar.
As soon as they were outside, Clara turned and pressed herself against Jamie, lifting herself up on her toes to kiss him. He smiled, mashing his lips against hers and anchoring his hands on her ass, sinking into the soft flesh.
Her kiss was insistent and hurried, and he wasn't in any mood to take his time so he followed along. He slammed her back against the brick wall of the alley, positioning their bodies so that they were more or less hidden in the shadows. If somebody came out they might see them, but what did Jamie care? He would be gone tomorrow.
Without any further ado, Jamie spun Clara around and pressed her face and hands to the wall. He reached forward and fondled her large breasts as he unzipped her pants, dropping them and her panties just low enough for what he needed. He moved a hand between her full, firm thighs. She was already wet.
His desire spiked, and he could feel his cock begging to be released from his jeans. He pulled it out and arranged himself at her entrance, then slammed in.
She was tight, so tight he nearly had to wait for her to adjust. But Jamie Woods wasn't about waiting, and from the way she arched her hips back into him, Clara wasn't either.
The two rutted furiously in the darkness, the slapping of skin to skin echoing through the alley. All Jamie noticed was the feel of her silken pussy and the soft flesh of her hips that he gripped in his fingers. That was all that mattered.
Clara moaned with each thrust, her hips frantically seeking his in time with his movements. She was like wildfire, burning with heat and flame. She was driving him crazy with lust, even as he was already deep within her.
Her moans grew louder and more erratic, and he knew he was pushing her to the edge. He upped his pace, gritting his teeth as he felt his release building too. It was so hot. It was so good.
She came with a loud cry, and he could feel her pulsing as he slammed forward again. Then again. Then finally, with a primal cry, Jamie released deep within her.
After taking a moment to catch his breath, he pulled out and tucked back into his pants. Clara stood up and pul
led up her jeans, turning around and giving him a saucy smile.
"Nice meeting you, stranger," she said. Then she flounced off back inside the bar. As he watched her go, Jamie felt something that was pretty strange for him.
Disappointed. He didn’t want her to leave.
He brushed it off as just being upset that he couldn't take that sweet body for one more round.
Clara
It was the hottest sex Clara had ever had in her life. She couldn't believe that she had just taken a guy out back, had sex with him, and then ran back inside to her friend to finish their evening.
Though she had definitely experienced one of the better orgasms of her life, she found herself still a little unsatisfied. She wanted more.
But she knew better than that—better than to let herself fall down into that horrible trap of feelings. It had only gotten her screwed last time.
Adrianne, for her part, couldn't stop laughing as Clara told her the ridiculous thing she had just done. The two cleared out of the bar after another half an hour—just in time to see the mystery guy hop on his bike and peel off into the night. It gave Clara shivers.
Too bad she'd never see him again.
***
Monday morning, Clara was all ready for her new job. She had scrubbed at her face, put on her best pencil skirt and blouse, lamented how her best pencil skirt was starting to get a little too tight around the hips, and then made it to work ten minutes early.
She decided to try rearranging her office. She felt that the person who had occupied it before her, a stodgy old man who had finally retired, hadn't had a clue when it came to furniture placement.
Clara was just finishing sliding the couch into position across from her armchair, when her receptionist came in with the first client of the day.
Clara heard Megan before she saw her, as she was bent over trying to push the couch, and Megan was behind her. She quickly spun around just as Megan finished saying, "Jamie Woods, Doctor Ashford."
Clara's jaw dropped.
What kind of coincidence could that be? Like, what were the odds? Clara would have bet it was something like a million to one that her first client on her first day of her new job would be the guy she had screwed in an alleyway only a couple of nights before.
Megan left, and presumably she hadn't noticed the look of horror on Clara's face. That was good.
Jamie looked like the cat that ate the cream. She had seen the surprise on his face, but it had morphed into delight much faster than she would have liked.
"So it's Doctor Clara, is it?" he drawled. With the door closed, she supposed they could at least talk about what had happened and discuss what was going to happen.
"Uh, Mr. Woods," she said, trying to regain an air of professionalism while at the same time distancing herself from him. "Please sit down."
He did, but he still looked just as amused as he had moments prior.
Clara weighed the facts in her head. She needed this job. She needed this patient. She couldn't afford to drop him just because of an indiscretion that nobody but the two of them knew about.
"So let's just get this out there," she said. "We met. We had sex. But that's over now." She rubbed her hands down the front of her thighs to release the crinkles in her skirt. Jamie watched her every move.
"Doesn't have to be over," he observed lightly.
Clara sat in the armchair opposite him and crossed her legs demurely. "It does. We can still have a professional working relationship," she said. "Just as long as we forget what happened."
Jamie relaxed back against the couch. "Maybe I don't want to forget," he said. "The feel of your pussy on my cock was...so sweet."
Clara immediately flushed. "Don't talk like that," she said. "Please."
He leaned forward and fixed her with a sultry grin. "I like to hear you say please," he purred. "Maybe I can make you say it a few more times before the hour is up."
Clara had had enough. "Mr. Woods, you're not here to screw me. You're here because something screwed you. Either we can get on with it, or I can report to your superiors that you've exhibited no desire to change."
Jamie frowned. "I could just as easily report you for a breach of ethics," he countered.
"Then we're at an impasse." Clara smiled grimly. "Though it’s wasn’t a breach of ethics because you weren’t my patient then. But let's just put all that aside and do what we came here to do, and move on with our lives. I understand you rejected seeing a military psychiatrist." She widened her arms. "I'm the only psychiatrist for miles now, Jamie. If you want to get put back on active duty, then you need to work with me."
Jamie narrowed his eyes at her. "Why would I want to tell you anything."
Clara sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Because I'm your therapist," she said. "And because it's what I've been trained to do."
Jamie looked unconvinced. "You already seem to know all that there is to know," he countered. "Why not just read your little notes to figure out what's ‘wrong’ with me?"
Clara gazed at him softly. "I don't know everything, Mr. Woods," she said. "I know that you nearly died. I know that other men did."
Jamie shot up from his chair. "You don't know anything!" he yelled.
Clara supposed, being the receptionist at a psychiatrist's office, Megan was probably used to that kind of a thing. She hoped so, anyway.
"Then let's talk about it."
"I don't want to talk about it," he retorted. Jamie began to pace the room, fury wafting off of him. "I'm fine. I can work just fine."
"That's not what your superiors think."
He stopped on the spot and sent her a malicious look. "Well they know even less than you do, then."
Clara was stunned. The man from the bar and the man in front of her right now were almost two completely different individuals. How could she have known, in that frantic alleyway engagement, that the man she had seduced was filled with so much rawness? So much pain?
"If you don't want to talk, Jamie," she said, softening her tone. "We don't have to. But I can't sign off on you just yet."
He listened to her carefully. "Just yet?"
She nodded. "Maybe after a few more sessions, when it would be believable, I could let you go with my recommendation."
He narrowed his eyes at her and sat back down. "But what do you get from that?"
She shrugged. "I get a happy patient who makes me look good. I get to not be yelled at."
What she didn't tell him, was that she didn't intend at all to sign off on him right away. She was still determined to get him to talk—he just couldn't think that was her plan.
Jamie leaned back, still assessing her with that hard gaze of his. Clara felt uncomfortable as she realized that her body was responding to it in ways that were decidedly unprofessional.
"Fine," he said eventually. "I'll let you fake shrink me. In return I won't be a dick."
Clara smiled gratefully. "We have an agreement then."
Jamie
Jamie’s sexual jubilation at seeing the hot broad from the biker bar in Woodberry again was cut short by his fury at her wanting to get inside his head. Why couldn't she just leave it alone? Why couldn't they all just leave it alone?
Whose business was it what skeletons Jamie kept in my closet?
Still, when she offered her little bargain to him, he began to form his own little plan. Jamie wanted to screw her right on that coffee table of hers. After all, what else were they going to do for an hour, twice a week, if they weren't exorcising his demons?
With his mission clear, it seemed the only thing left to do was to try to charm himself back into her good graces. It shouldn't have been so easy to do. After all, she had had no problem screwing him without even knowing his name.
Still, she proved resistant.
In that first session, Jamie tried all sorts of tactics. He asked her about her day. He made seductive stretches. He even leaned back on the couch and gave her bedroom eyes for a solid minute. None of it worked.
Yeah, she was definitely affected by it. She started chewing on the end of her pen, and her eyes followed each of his movements with determined care. But she blocked him at every turn if he tried to move it past lustful staring.
Jamie didn't understand it. Did she really care that much about her job? It was frustrating, and he didn't like frustrating. A challenge, yes. But pure frustration? It hurt almost as much as the zipper of his jeans against his arousal.
That night he went for a long ride to cool down. He didn't stop anywhere. Look where that had gotten him last time. Instead, Jamie cruised down country roads until the cold air on his face had calmed him down sufficiently.
Then he went home and tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do for the next two days until he saw that infuriating woman again.
Clara
Jamie was determined to get back into Clara’s pants; that was for sure. It took everything in her not to let him. As she watched his bicep flex while he stretched, or as her eyes followed the lines of his muscles under his shirt, she had had a few thoughts of submission.
Why not? Surely nobody would know.
These things were true.
What was stopping Clara, then? It was a matter of principle. The principle of not getting completely screwed over emotionally by someone again. The principle of not allowing herself to succumb to her baser desires at the expense of her sanity.
Though she was beginning to wonder if her sanity was already dangling over the precipice. Really, who could stay sane trying to withhold themselves from launching across the room at a man who dripped sex appeal like Jamie did?
Still, Clara made it through her first session without fault. She saw the rest of her patients for the day—not many—and went home to make herself dinner and forget about work. At least, she thought, the rest of her patients were much easier. She could put up with having one particularly difficult nut to crack if all the others flowered open at the slightest touch. She felt like she was doing good work, and in turn that made her feel both fulfilled and satisfied.