by J. H. York
“Note to self,” she thought wryly, “first thing tomorrow, join the library!” What she wouldn’t give for a Stephen King novel right then! There was a memory! She felt heartened. Maybe it was the beginning of something.
Dinner was tomato soup out of a can, bread and some sort of unidentifiable pasta followed by dark grey coffee, which she couldn't drink. She told herself to be thankful to have a roof over her head and something to eat, but it didn't help much. Eventually, she fell asleep on the hard narrow bed. She dreamt that night, which was amazing because in the last three months she didn't remember dreaming at all.
Someone was chasing her along a dark and dirty street, but she couldn’t see who it was because he was wearing a black hoodie. She had the impression that it was a man, though. She was running as fast as she could but he was catching up. The street seemed to go on for miles but there was a light ahead. There was help there… she knew it instinctively. But she didn’t make it. Her pursuer caught up with her and raised something above his head. It looked like a tire iron and it was heading straight for her – then she woke up with a start, realizing that the noise that awakened her was her very own scream. She sat trembling, covered in icy sweat for what seemed like ages, and then sank back onto the bed again. Strangely, she fell back asleep. Her own fatigue conquered her fear. She slept as soon as her head hit the pillow again.
*****
Dr. Nick Mason leaned back in his chair, rotated his neck and rolled his shoulders back to ease the kinks in his muscles. It had been a long day of listening and advising, wiping up tears and soothing irrational fears. Sometimes he just wanted to run away.
There were no dates and no attractive women hanging on his every word anymore and he had very little in the way of a social life. He was the most eligible bachelor in his social circle, but he was still single, for one simple reason. Up till two years ago, he had lived for his profession as a psychiatrist, and then in one single moment his life changed forever. He knew the day. He knew the moment. He relived it at least ten times a day, and he thought of it now with a shudder before pushing it way in the back of his mind where it belonged.
He was exhausted, but before his day could end, there was one more patient for him to see, thank goodness; it was his pro bono case. No jogging or gym tonight; he was prescribing rest for himself – an early bedtime and a good book. Maybe it wasn’t the usual recipe for an exciting evening but for tonight it was perfect. He sighed, and called for the next patient. As the door opened, he froze. The woman who entered was quite simply the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
She wasn’t tall; she stood maybe five feet four or five inches tall. She was slim but shapely, with curvy hips and a generous breast line. She had long, wavy auburn hair that was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and even from across his office he could see the amber-green color of her eyes. Her high cheekbones and full, ripe lips made her face strikingly lovely, but everything about her spoke of sadness. In his profession, he was trained to read people, but more than that, he had an innate gift of feeling the nature and character of a soul, he had always read character quickly and assessed the underpinnings of the driving mind. He let his pointed instincts lead him, because they never failed him. He knew that this woman was going to change his life; somehow, he could feel her steering a course toward him.
She was neatly dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt and a red woolen sweater, a denim jacket with clean white sneakers on her feet. She looked almost as helpless as a child and his heart swelled with pity.
He stood up and shook hands with her. They were icy cold and trembling.
"I'm Dr. Mason," he smiled at her. "You can call me Nick."
She nodded and sat down in the chair positioned behind her. He sat across from her and poured her a glass of water, then pushed a box of tissues across the table between them. Her eyes filled with tears, but she let them flow unchecked down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” He asked softly.
She looked across at him. She was looking into a pair of blazing blue eyes set in a chiseled, high-boned face. He had a long nose, a generous mouth with a dimple right in the center of his chin. His jawline was firm and square, his hair thick, straight and glossed in a blue-black color from the light. He was around six feet two with a well-defined athletic body.
“My name is Olivia,” she began haltingly, “…and that’s all I know about anything. I can’t remember my past – any of it. They tell me I was in a car accident but managed to crawl away before the car blew up. I couldn’t remember my name. So, the nurses in the hospital called me Olivia. They asked me what my favorite name was and it’s what popped in my mind, so I went with it.”
Nick thought that picking one’s name on the consensus of a few nurses’ opinions was about the saddest thing he’d ever heard, but he withheld comment and waited for her to go on.
“Up till three months ago I can’t remember a thing,” she shrugged. “I just don’t have a clue,” she looked up at him helplessly. “I don’t even know how I can pay you. The nurses gave me these clothes and I just don’t know what to do about anything else.”
“I’m working pro bono,” he explained. “So don’t worry about me. We’ll sort out the rest soon. Now, about you – tell me what you can remember. Let’s start there.”
She shook her head mutely. She wasn’t ready to talk about her dream yet.
God, she’s gorgeous, he thought, out of nowhere.
He was trying and failing to keep his traitorous body in check. He had a rebellious erection that would not go away. He was trying desperately to keep a professional distance but despite his best efforts he wanted to grab her, hold her down and thrust himself inside her. It was terrifying: he had never felt anything like this before.
He chatted to her gently for the rest of the session, trying to calm her and establish a connection between them, which was pretty difficult considering that he felt anything but calm himself.
At last, they both stood up. He held out his hand and gave her his card.
“Please call me if you need anything,” he said softly “I’m always available.”
“Can – can I ask you something?” She was looking up at him pleadingly, and it was all he could do not to kiss her. He wanted to, quite desperately.
“Nobody’s touched me in months. I just want – a hug.”
He put his arms around her and pulled her close. She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. She was so small and fragile. His hands spread over her back, seemed huge. He could feel her heart beating. It was fast, faster than he would have expected. She was still nervous and fearful. She was clutching him tightly as if her life depended on it. When she drew away from him at last, he felt bereft. He had the strangest feeling that he needed her more than she needed him.
He heard her make an appointment for the same time the following week, and his heart leaped. He could hardly wait to see her again.
He was home now, back inside his spacious apartment with its view over the spreading, brightly lit city. He made himself coffee and went straight to bed. He couldn’t exercise, eat or sleep. She was all he could think about. He lay there with his book, trying to read. After he’d read the same page over three times without taking in a word, he gave up. He became more and more aroused as he thought of that slim body with its curving hips, tiny waist, and generous breasts. He began to touch himself, then held himself tighter, rubbing himself up and down, moaning with pleasure as he imagined her straddling him, her breasts touching his face as she leaned over him. As she went down on him he thrust into her and he climaxed. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before, and he lay, gasping, for a while. It was a long time before sleep claimed him.
2 CHAPTER TWO
The next week Olivia sat in the waiting room with her heart hammering in her chest. She felt almost sick with a mixture of anticipation, desire – and fear. She was impatient, yet filled with dread to see him. The first time they’d met she felt such a powerful surge
of attraction it had almost overwhelmed her. What was going to happen when she saw him today? She was just another patient to him and he had to keep – what was it – a professional distance? She had to remember that.
The door opened and she jumped, and then tried to compose herself as the patient before her exited his office. The woman was smiling and looking slightly bemused, but Dr. Nick probably had that effect on almost every woman. He looked around and smiled at her, and the beam of those ice blue eyes made her heart beat even faster.
“Olivia?” He extended a hand to welcome her into the room and she followed him in.
She was wearing the same clothes that she’d been wearing the week before. She had no others, and it embarrassed her. A man like him would surely have noticed. He sat next to her on the sofa that day, and she could smell his scent, the fragrance of a men’s cologne underlined by that special body musk unique to him. She could see the blue-black shadow of stubble on his jaw and skin, and suddenly she was sitting in her own puddle. Just looking at him made her flood with desire.
“Have you remembered anything?” He asked, in his deep gravelly voice.
The blue eyes had her mesmerized. She gazed into them for a moment before answering.
“I had a dream,” she said, frowning.
She was beginning to wring her hands together and when he put one of his on top of them to stop her. She jumped. He tried to draw back but she held on. It was a big hand, lean and strong. He could caress her to ecstasy with those hands; she just knew it. She began to describe the dream and he listened silently.
When she’d finished he sat back and gently disengaged his hand, then scribbled something on a notepad.
“Anything else? Feelings? Impressions?”
“Feelings. I saw some guys playing cards in the park last week and I almost remembered something, but it went before I could catch it.”
“How did it make you feel?”
"Scared," she admitted, "I knew it had something to do with the dream.”
He sat back and thought for a minute. She watched him.
“You look tired,” she observed, then put a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be personal.”
He smiled.
“Don’t worry,” he replied, “I am. It’s been a long week.”
“Maybe I should go.” She half stood up but he put a hand on her forearm and stopped her.
“Don’t go,” he said huskily. “Your – your time’s not up yet.” He stuttered slightly.
Reacting to his own emotions, he stood up abruptly. “Can we try hypnosis?”
She looked at him doubtfully. “You won’t make me do chicken impersonations?” She asked, laughing.
He laughed too.
“I can’t make you do a thing you don’t want to do,” he replied. “Hypnosis is a natural state, it’s just an extra-focused state of consciousness. You will remain in control.”
She nodded. “OK. Let’s do it. Anything’s better than this – nothingness.”
As she lay back on the couch Olivia was aware of how vulnerable she was, but she wasn’t afraid. There was something very gentle about Nick but in spite of his very masculine appearance she knew that something or someone had hurt him badly.
“I’m going to describe something to you. You’re in a wood, walking on a quiet path. All around you are trees and flowers. Breathe in and inhale the scent of the flowers you see. Breathe out and leaves drift down from the trees. As you sit down on the mossy bank, you feel very relaxed. A pleasant, drowsy feeling comes over you. You’re sleepy. You can’t lift your arms and your eyelids are heavy. Breathe in the scent of flowers. Breathe out butterflies. In, out, in out. You’re so sleepy...” His voice is deep and gentle.
Olivia falls into a hypnotic sleep.
When she wakes, it feels like time stood still. Had it passed at all? It didn’t seem so.
"Well done," he smiled at her. "Your name is Becky, and you're twenty-six years old. You told me that your parents were drug addicts and you all lived on the streets for a while. Afterwards I encountered a block in your mind, something you’re not ready to discuss or think about. But you’ve done well for today. How do you feel?”
“I feel – I feel wonderful!” She laughed and stretched out her arms, straining her t-shirt over her breasts.
He tried not to look at her, tried to will away the erection that just would not go away. Then he did something unforgivable. He leaned over and kissed her, pulling her across the sofa so that their thighs were touching. His lips were firm, and as he passed his tongue round the inside of her lips she wished the moment would go on forever, but it ended, and they gazed at each other, both of them breathless.
“I’m so sorry,’’ he pushed a hand through his hair in a distracted gesture. “Please forgive me. Would you like me to refer you to another therapist?”
“No,” she replied softly. She cupped his cheek with her hand and smiled at him. “Definitely not.”
He stood up.
“We’ll have to stop here,” he looked down at her, but he was frowning.
Something in his eyes told her he was reliving something unpleasant, but she was the patient, not the therapist, so she said nothing and tried to calm down.
“I’m sorry too,” she whispered. "This isn't helping, is it?"
He shook his head, and then abruptly became business-like. She could have cried at his rejection.
“I have something to show you.” His eyes couldn’t stop starring at her.
She almost threw herself at him again. His eyes...they simply held her breath.
Nick grabbed his car keys from his desk and pointed to the door. Olivia nodded and followed him with intrigue and curiosity.
Nick approached a red Chevy pickup truck. It was a 1972 vintage vehicle that fitted him like a glove, Olivia thought. Big macho car, big macho man... Yet, there was a gentle vulnerability about Nick that was at odds with his stature. Nick opened the passenger door and Olivia stepped inside.
Nick pulled up and stopped at a four-story apartment building.
It wasn’t in the best neighborhood in town, but it wasn’t the worst either. Inside the place, there was a tiny one-bedroom with a toilet, shower, and a kitchen. It was furnished with plain, thrift store furniture, an old TV probably made in the 90’s, and a double bed covered with a bright patchwork comforter.
“I’m sorry about the furniture,” he said, embarrassed. “I’ll replace it when I can.”
“This is for me?” She asked incredulously. She looked right into his face, her eyes were filled with tears. "The rent-"
“--is my business,” he replied firmly. “I bought this place as an investment last year. I was going to sell it again when the value went up, so you’re doing me a favor by looking after it in the meantime.” He smiled and handed her the keys. “I got you a job, working part-time in a friend’s bookstore. It’s only three days a week but it should cover your expenses for now.”
3 CHAPTER THREE
There was silence for a moment. They looked at each other across the room, and then in three strides he covered the distance between them, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hungrily. He swept her effortlessly up in his arms and laid her on the narrow double bed. He looked down at her with a question in his eyes, and she answered it with a smile.
She lay passively while he stripped off her t-shirt and bra then cupped her breasts with their rosy nipples before bending down to suckle them. She unbuttoned his shirt, then pulled it off and ran her hands over the ridged muscles of his stomach. There was a sprinkling of dark hair on his chest. She unzipped his trousers, she could already feel his manhood growing hard. He wanted her. She was wet with desire, too. She could smell her own arousal and hoped that he could too. She pulled down his boxers then grasped his penis, and ran her thumb over its tip. He had already started to ooze a little semen. She licked it and took him inside her mouth. He groaned then pushed her head up and down while she sucked him. She was excited
as she ran her hands over his rippling muscles. He pushed a finger inside her and she moaned with pleasure. She wanted him inside her. Releasing his penis, she guided him inside of herself. She was so wet, so welcoming to him. In minutes their desires overcame them and together they reached a most glorious climax. He tried to withdraw from her, but she restrained him, holding him inside by grasping him with her thighs and her heart.
“Again” she whispered, looking into the dazzling eyes.
“I can’t,” he laughed softly.
“But you can,” she replied, and began to move her hips up and down. To his amazement, he felt the climax building again, gentler this time but what a satisfaction he held within. She came quietly, moaning with pure pleasure and the delight of a caring they both now shared, one for the other.