by Havana Scott
“Yes, but tell me your name again?” I say this, so she doesn’t get upset that I don’t remember her but also don’t give her the false impression that I found her memorable.
“Evangeline. I came to see you a few months ago. I told you about my boyfriend.”
Wow, a shocker. “Ah, yes, Evangeline…what’s up? I don’t see patients outside the office, so this is kind of against the rules…” I spot the note tucked under my windshield wiper but don’t reach for it. I think I’ve found my mystery note author.
Evangeline steps closer to me. I place a hand onto the hood of my car and grip my shoulder bag with my other hand. “I’m not here for therapy. I just…I see you every day walking to your car, and I thought why not say hi, you know? You told me I needed to be bolder, step outside of myself, become that braver version of me. Well, here I am, Brave Evangeline.” She smiles hesitantly.
I should start keeping a carving knife with me at all times. “Evangeline…”
“Eva. You can call me Eva. That’s what everyone calls me.”
“Evangeline,” I insist. “When I told you that, I was referring to the way you behaved with friends, family…others. Not me. I play no part in your life other than to be your therapist. You understand that, right?”
“I don’t know, doctor. During our sessions, you sometimes look at me like…I don’t know…like you find me attractive? I’m pretty sure I sense something between us.”
“No,” I say strongly. “There’s nothing, Evangeline. That’s how I look at everyone. I smile, I appreciate all my patients, and I listen, because I’m trying to help. That’s what you saw. Now, have a great evening. I need to go home.” I try pushing past her to get to the driver’s side, but she blocks my path. As I knew she would.
“Dr. Lee…”
“Listen, don’t do this.”
“I just want one chance. You give chances to other patients…why not me?”
“No,” I push her back, “I don’t give my patients ‘chances.’ I don’t get involved with any of my patients.” Even as I say it, it feels like a lie. I’m involved with Alice. Even though she’s not a patient, I feel like she is and always will be, because of our first official meeting.
Evangeline has hazel eyes. I know because she’s in my face now, ringing her arms around my neck. I push her off gently. I don’t want to piss her off and find myself the victim of a hit and run. “You’ll feel different if you kiss me. I know you will.”
“Get off me, please.” I push her away, but holy shit, the girl is strong for being skinny.
“What is this?”
The moment I hear her voice, I feel relieved and screwed at the same time. I whip around to see my golden girl, tired from a full day of classes, paused on the edge of the parking lot.
I smile to diffuse the situation. “Alice, this young lady was just leaving.” I push Evangeline back to a safe distance and this time, she stays. Blondie’s presence has interrupted her delusions.
Alice stands there, staring at my mental patient like she has two seconds to run before her inner velociraptor comes out to play. Evangeline studies her through a jealous gaze, then at me, then she swipes the note from underneath the windshield wiper and runs off.
“What the fuck was that?” Alice flips up her palms.
“Welcome to my life, Blondie. Get in.” I come around to open the passenger door for her, and she slides in, still gawking. In the car, I let out a massive breath then start the engine, wending my way off campus and basking in the silence.
Here they come…the inevitable questions.
I can tell that Alice is seething on the inside, trying to be mature about it on the outside. “Do you know her? Why was she about to kiss you?”
“She’s a patient, Blondie. Sometimes, they feel confused.”
“Is she really just a patient, Roman?”
I shoot her a pissed-off look. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“Well, what am I supposed to think? I don’t know what you do half the day.”
“I work, that’s what I do. And what you’re supposed to think is that one of my patients just ambushed me in the parking lot, the same one who’s been leaving me the notes you’ve seen before, apparently. I can’t help when someone loses their shit, Alice. It’s one of my occupational hazards.”
“Or are you your own occupational hazard?” she asks accusingly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Look at you. How do I know you don’t have different women coming to you each day?”
“I have no control over what women think of me, Alice, if that’s what you’re suggesting,” I say, gripping the wheel tightly. “I don’t get involved with patients. You should trust me and know that I only have eyes for one woman, and that’s you.”
She stares at me, like deciding whether or not to believe. What happened yesterday and today to make her doubt me now?
“Look, I don’t know what’s prompted this sudden distrust, but I’ve never given you reason to believe that I have other women in my life. I only have you. Take it or leave it.”
She continues to stare at me, and I want to punch a hole in a fucking wall. I can’t get away from my reputation no matter what I do. “I found out yesterday that you have a reputation with women on campus. I knew that everyone found you hot, but is it true that you used to date some of them?”
“Jesus, Alice.” I laugh even though there’s nothing funny about this. “I’ve never dated a patient. I started talking to a female undergrad a long time ago, before I got married. There was some flirting, and they gave me a slap on the wrist, but I don’t date patients. Go ahead and don’t believe me if you want. You’d be the same as…”
“As?”
“Nothing.” Fingers tighten around the steering wheel.
“As what? Who?” she asks, crossing her arms. “Your ex-wife? Is that why your marriage ended? Because she couldn’t handle the harem that you attract? Because I have to be honest, Roman, I can see how that would’ve freaked her out. It’s freaking me out after only a month.”
“Her insecurity was part of it, but things crumbled because I couldn’t give her what she needed. Just like I’m scared that I can’t give you what you need.”
Silence, except for the engine revving up to fifth gear, as I wind my way through the streets. There, I said it. My biggest fear is not being good enough for her. Now, she knows. What will she think of that? Will she agree?
“I never told you what I needed,” she says quietly. “I don’t even know what I need myself.” She shifts back in her seat, and we don’t talk the rest of the way. I’m grateful this isn’t turning into a full-blown argument, but there’s no denying the awkward energy in the car.
It’s happening all over again. The questions, the accusing tone. Even when I haven’t done anything wrong, I feel guilty for who I am. I can’t help the women who fall for me—they’re deluded and need help. Maybe I’ve been avoiding this but could it be I’m not the right therapist for this job? Maybe I need to see clients in an old folks home or an asexual colony.
Luckily, Blondie’s brain works just like mine, because the moment we get home, she’s pushing me against the wall undoing my tie, grabbing my crotch and kissing me like her life depends on it. Making the anger disappear with sex. Whether she’s the one who needs the release or me doesn’t matter, she knows how to replace the bad feelings with good.
“Careful, Blondie, or you’re going to end up in a very compromising position,” I warn, my raw need raging to the surface. She’s unlocking untapped anger I’ve cautiously shelved for a while now.
“Is that a threat or a promise, doctor?” She pulls me by my tie, takes off my glasses, and throws them onto the dresser. And there she is—the woman I need right now. I’m instantly hard. How does she do it so easily?
The taboo idea of her calling me doctor again sets me off, and suddenly I’m picking her up and carrying her over my shoulder to the bedroom, dropping her onto the bed. “Take off everything,”
I tell her, pulling open a drawer and taking out one of my belts, uncoiling it.
She eyes the leather strip with worry in her eyes, but she should know by now that I’m not going to hurt her in any way, shape, or form—ever. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure you know.”
“Know what?”
“That there’s only one woman in my life, Blondie, and that’s you.”
“So you’re going to tie me up?”
“That’s what we men do with our property. We tie it up, put a lock and chain on it, so no other man has the chance to steal it. Isn’t that what you want? For me to be a one-woman man? I’m a one woman man. And I’m waiting…” I slap the belt against my hand.
Yes, I’m frustrated after today’s ambushes—one by Evangeline and one in the car by Alice—and admittedly angry, too, that Blondie would question the way I feel about her, would pull up my past and throw it in my face. I won’t hold it against her too hard. I never told her the depth of my reputation’s problems. I wanted to shield her, be perfect in her eyes.
Quickly, she peels off her clothes and stands in front of me looking more nervous than I’ve ever seen her. Her body is softly round and full, her belly has a beautiful curve to it, and her tits heave up and down. They’re going to look fucking amazing with her arms above her head. “Kneel in front of the dresser,” I tell her.
She does as she’s told, and I immediately take her wrists and tie them with the belt to the dresser’s handle. “I’m nervous.”
“Why? You think I would hurt you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen you when you’re angry.”
“Then, you don’t know me very well, Blondie. Which doesn’t surprise me, since we’ve been avoiding knowing each other from day one. But maybe it’s time to change that. Maybe you need to learn exactly who I am—a man who’d never hurt you.” I take off my shirt and toss it onto the bed, then unbuckle my pants and pull out my straining hard cock, which twitches and needs what it needs.
I stand in front of her, level with her mouth. Her chest moves up and down with her ragged breathing. With my foot, I separate her knees so they widen, exposing her sweet pussy, and then I kneel. Plunging a kiss deep into her, I marvel at how sweet she always tastes, as I slide my fingers into her folds at the same time, relishing in the slippery wetness. Her clit is massively swollen, and it won’t need much for me to send it diving over the edge.
I wasn’t going to start this way, but now I can’t imagine anything else. I have to hear her moan, have to see that mouth drop open. I dip my fingers into her hole to pick up juices and then rub her clit continuously, pulling them off to give her tongue a taste of her own juices.
“Come for me, Blondie. Let me hear that fucking beautiful sound.” I rub her again and again, sucking her bottom lip. Her mouth opens, and she breathes hard, as I continue my onslaught and feel her legs tighten.
“Dr. Lee…I love how you touch me.”
“I know. You feel good, don’t you, Miss Verano? You like how I cure you? How I treat you?”
“God, yes…”
“Good, so pay me. Come for me. Come all over my fingers and let me hear that groan.” I want her over that edge, and I want it now. Impatiently, I slap one of her tits and then the other, loving the way they swing, the way her nipples perk up with delight. She only winces at the sting. “I said come for me, Miss Verano.”
“Yes, doctor…I’m trying.”
She comes close but not far enough. For whatever reason, because of the tie-up and her nerves most likely, she’s taking longer than usual. I’ve caught her by surprise. I’ll give her what I know she loves. Standing and continuing with my first plan, I shove my cock into her mouth and hold it there, loving the way she looks up at me. “This is what you want, isn’t it? You want this fat cock in your hungry mouth. Do you love it, Miss Verano?” I pull out, as her mouth remains wide open like a baby bird awaiting its nourishment.
“Yes, doctor. I love it. I love you.”
Squatting, I spit into her mouth and hold her beautiful doll face. “Say it again,” I whisper by her ear, nibbling on the lobe.
“I love you. I love you, doctor.”
“Is there anyone else in my life? Do you see other women in my bedroom, Miss Verano?”
“No, doctor. I’m sorry for thinking that.”
“Don’t make that mistake again.” Standing, I plunge into her mouth, loving the gurgling, choking noises all over my cock. I pull out every so often to let her breathe, slide my legs between hers, then push in again. “Close your legs around mine.”
Like she was waiting for permission to do so, she clamps her legs around mine desperately and squeezes her muscles, doing the work her hands would normally do.
“Are you going to come for me now?” I ask, knowing that the pressure against her clit between her humping me and her mouth full of my cock, will be enough. I know my Blondie, and it will be. She’s a dirty little girl who’s submissive and wants me to show her the way.
Mumbling, nodding, her eyes suddenly close and I know she’s there. I pull out just to hear it—it’s the most fantastic sound in all the four corners of the world. She groans out loud, crying, singing through her orgasm, and my heart is full. I need nothing else. She could deny me my own climax right now, and I’d be so good with it. I only need her to be happy.
Letting the belt go, I lift her depleted body and carry her to the bed, positioning her ass right at the edge and forcing her legs open. She’s still mewling in her residual waves of ecstasy, the perfect time to finish this off. I widen my legs and slide into her, feeling the exquisite tightness of her young pussy around my throbbing dick. I fuck her long and hard, enjoying every moment, feeling my balls slap her curvy ass. Feeling them tighten against my body. Feeling that tidal wave rising inside of me, ready to break.
I might dominate, but she needs to know the truth—that I adore her.
I don’t know what that means, and I don’t know what our future holds, but I won’t think about that now. I’ll live in the moment, and presently, I worship the ground my Blondie walks on. Groaning out loud, a surge explodes into her body, as I grip her legs and fuck her right through my orgasm, extending the high as far as it’ll go. After a minute of hard breathing, the waves finally subside, and I fight the urge to shed tears.
Because the truth is this—I love Alice Verano.
I love her body, I love the way she thinks, I love how she trusts me to please her, I love this sublime, still-coming pussy wrapped around my spent cock, I love the way her breasts slide to either side of her body, the way she pushes them together and talks me down from the clouds. I love that I can say awful, dirty things to her and she won’t mind, that she lets me exorcise my demons, and not take it personally. And after tonight, she better know.
That I would do anything for her.
I would put her on a pedestal and admire her all day if I could. With supreme beauty and intelligence that puts mine to shame, how can I not? And here’s another truth—I will never make her happy. I have too much to fix in my own damaged psyche before I can offer her any kind of happy life.
So, the therapist needs the therapy. Well, well, well.
The sooner I put an end to this, the better off she’ll be without me.
15
ALICE
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Our presentation is today, and I’m late. I run through the halls toward the robotics lab like the hot mess I am. Damn it. I love staying over at Roman’s, getting wrapped up in his world, but this was why I needed distance in the first place. Distraction. It’s too easy to oversleep in the morning.
I screech into the classroom, trying not to make it obvious, but all heads turn to me. The looks I get range from “oh, shit, girl, now you’re gonna get it” to “it was nice knowing you, Alice.” What’s going on? At the front of the class are Gunther, Aaron, and Parker presenting…without me.
Professor Eckler sits to the side, hand propped under his chin, fingers spl
ayed across his mouth like he has an opinion on my being late, but he’s not going to say it. There’s a hint of disappointment in his face, which will probably be reflected in my grade later.
Damn it.
“So, by going with the two-motor, bidirectional pivot intake with axles, we achieve our desired outcome,” Gunther explains, lifting the robot’s arm and showing it off. He sees me and smirks, slapping his arm at his side.
Aaron gives me the look of death. “Yeah, we didn’t want to go with the claws or rollers. It just wasn’t feasible, not with the stars we’re using this year, but we’ll let Alice tell you all about that, since it was her idea.” He steps back to make room for me at the front of the class.
I feel everyone’s stares on me. I push my hair behind my ears in order to center my focus before I bullshit my way through this. “Great, so because we didn’t go with the claws or roller design—” I begin, pushing through the nerves in my throat.
“Actually, I’d like to know more about how this design can be improved,” Professor Eckler interrupts with the raise of his pen. “Considering they’re going with the cone game this year, tell me how this same robot can be adapted, Miss Verano.”
Cone game. Adaptation. Okay…I got this.
I blow out a short breath and try to conjure up the words I need, but the running has left me out of breath and now being put on the spot isn’t helping either. Add the boys’ stares on me, and Aaron with that stupid, holier-than-thou look on his face, and I’m having trouble finding my mojo.
“Well,” I say, “we’d have to scrap this and start all over. We’re talking completely new criteria, which is the point of the new game, so…” Professor Eckler cocks his head as he listens. I don’t know if I’m saying what he wants to hear but it’s the truth. “This whole design would have to change. We’d have to replace the manipulator to grip cones instead of stars, make the drive more torque-oriented to hold the big cones, since they weigh three-point-five pounds each—”
“Three-point-seven,” Aaron corrects me. I shoot him a pointed look. We’re supposed to be on the same page here, not upstaging each other during our own fucking presentation.