“However,” Chase added, reaching across his desk for a business card he’d laid there, “if you find yourself dissatisfied with Taboo Services, either now, or at any point in the future—if you decide they’re no longer fulfilling your needs—I would like you to contact a colleague of mine.” He handed over the card, waiting until the client took the name and number of a professional he knew and trusted. “Jonathan Ashbourne is a solid consultant. He’ll get you to where you need to be to live a healthy, structured life.”
“Okay,” Mr Johnston said, studying the card. “Thank you, Mr Walker.”
“My pleasure.” Chase climbed to his feet—code for ‘end of session’. “Good luck in your ventures.” Have a nice life, he wanted to add.
Because Chase had high doubts that he’d be seeing Mr Johnston again. The man looked far too much like every one of his life worries had been taken to the cleaners and ironed out for good. It was one of the reasons Chase continued to do what he did.
***
The weather beyond the office window didn’t seem to know whether to rain, or shine. One moment, bright sunlight filtered across Chase’s desk. The next, clouds smothered its glow and shot rain on the earth. A lot like how Chase’s mood had been lately. Because he never quite knew which way to swing anymore, either.
And Mr Johnston’s appointment hadn’t helped with that.
Chase hated that he’d spent the preliminary appointments with the man feeling a disgust he hadn’t wanted to admit was there. He always hated taking a dislike to a client because of their tendencies. An opinion that always seemed a whole lot more prominent when a client managed to change his mind.
Sure, he still disliked the idea of sex with a dead being. As hard as he’d tried, he just couldn’t find the appeal. However, Mr Johnston’s eagerness to find a way through the legal and moral barriers in a way that didn’t leave even himself revolted had helped broaden Chase’s view on that whole area of preference. He only wished more of those who pursued a similar dream would take the initiative of seeking help.
Letting his head drop back against the high rim of his chair, he closed his eyes for a moment. Fuck, he felt tired. Filled with a weariness that seemed to be weighing him down. His lack of sleep didn’t help with that, though, did it? Because, more and more lately, Chase seemed to lie awake with far too many thoughts whizzing a path through his brain. Thoughts that shot in from all directions and converged into a central mass of confusion that left him tossing and turning into the early hours then hand-fucking himself into an undeniable exhaustion when nothing else worked.
Not even bothering to open his eyes, his slid a hand across his desk for the intercom button.
“Yes?” Sam’s voice.
“Sam, who else have I got today?” Maybe he could cut an appointment short. Skip out early. Find someone to help steer him toward an oblivion his mind badly needed.
“Ms O’Shay has just arrived for her four thirty.”
Chase didn’t know whether to smile or frown at the announcement. His cock definitely wanted to smile. His cock liked the idea of Abi being up next very much.
His head, though—that just felt confused. Confused by pretty much anything involving Abi O’Shay.
Sadly, for Chase’s weak resolve, his cock won a round, as soon as he remembered what they had planned for her session.
“Would you like me to send her through?” Sam asked.
A big part of him wanted to tell her no and rush forth to go grab her himself.
The small part of him, the part that had him gritting his teeth against his urges, ordered him to keep his butt in his seat.
“Yes, please do,” he said through the intercom.
Shoulders tenser than they’d been a moment ago—though, not necessarily in a bad way—and his mind a whole lot more awake, Chase tried not to stare directly at the door like he couldn’t fucking wait for it open.
He couldn’t, but that was beside the point. He had to at least pretend he didn’t suffer with a massive dose of Eager Beaver—if only to himself. His gaze darted to his bookshelves. Back to the door. Across to the chaise longue. Back to the door. To the coving around the top of the walls. Back to the door. Toward where he tapped his fingertips against the underside of his desk.
The door opened. Sam pushed through first, taking enough steps into the room to widen the gap, and stood to the side for the client to pass through.
Abi.
Abi in a clinic-provided robe and terry-cloth slippers.
The sight was like a challenge accepted and smashed. Like an achieved climb of Everest.
And that smile Chase had been clinging so tightly to? Totally broke free and blew up the fucking room.
***
The lights had already been dimmed slightly in the bedroom they entered. The bed had been freshly covered. The carpets recently cleaned.
Striding across the rug, Chase sensed every step Abi took behind him. Which meant he already knew she’d be standing less than three feet away from him, when he turned to face her.
Even in the lesser lighting, her beauty shone out, as if to provide illumination to a space otherwise lacking. Swallowing, Chase tried to keep his focus on her face. If he let himself think too hard about what might, or might not, be under the robe, he’d likely get no words out at all. “Do you need me to run through everything for you?”
Most people didn’t after attending a couple of practical sessions. Abi was amongst them with the headshake she gave.
“And you are comfortable with the plan for today?”
“I’m comfortable with it.” Though she didn’t waver as she stared up at him, he could’ve sworn he caught a slight twitch to give away her nerves.
While he didn’t really want to see those nerves, their presence didn’t surprise him. He’d have been more shocked to find them absent. “Okay,” he said. “Where would you like me to position myself?”
Frowning, she peered around the room. “Somewhere I won’t be able to see you?” Her gaze flicked back up to his. “Sorry, that sounds …”
He shook his head, a smile spreading his lips. “It’s okay. I understand what you mean.” Twisting away from her, he reached for the room’s chair and carried it to a corner of the room that would allow him a slanted view of her body. Better scope for seeing more of her at once. “Here?” he asked, sending her a glance over his shoulder, and she nodded, her hands tucked deep into the pockets of the robe.
“Can the lights be lower?” she asked, as he went to sit.
“They can, but I’d rather they not be quite as low as you’re used to having them.” He’d never see enough of her that way—something on which he didn’t want to compromise.
On the other side of the room, he twisted the dial until a pale golden haze shrouded the room and he could just make out the features of Abi’s face as she watched him.
“Do you need me to talk you through the session?” he asked as he headed back to his seat. “Or do you feel ready to explore on your own?”
“I’m not sure.” She glanced across at the bed, drawing her lower lip between her teeth as she turned back toward Chase. “Maybe just if I need …”
“Guidance?” he offered, and she nodded. “Okay, well, I’m going to place myself here. If I feel you could try something more than you’re doing, I’ll step in. Otherwise, I’ll stay quiet and simply observe.”
“Okay,” she said quietly, her gaze retracing its route toward the bed. “Is … is the thing I used before …”
“The vibrator is on there, right where you found it the last time.” And Chase, really, really hoped she’d use it, if only so he could hear those heightened cries of hers again.
With another quiet okay, and a small nod, she made hesitant steps across the room. The mattress depressed slightly as she lifted a knee onto it, followed by the other, and with her hands braced in front of her, she crawled farther onto the bed.
She stilled near the centre. Seemed undecided about what to do next. “Can I kee
p the robe on?” she asked after a few beats.
No, take it off. “Whatever you feel is best for you.” For a little while, at least.
Her entire body seemed to take part in the sigh she released. Shuffling more fully onto her knees, she reached out across the bedding. She held the vibrator when she drew her hand back. Through the shadows, she traced her fingers over its shape, as though surprised at the appearance of something she’d only encountered in darkness. Perhaps she’d expected it to be larger. Or smaller. Chase couldn’t decipher her inner thoughts from the slight frown she wore.
Placing it back down on the bed, but closer to her own position, she glanced across toward Chase. “It feels weird with you in here.”
“Weird, how?” he asked.
“I’m not sure.” She shrugged, a dainty movement even with the bulk of the robe. “It’s like … when I just heard your voice, I knew you were watching, but it felt like—it felt like I was performing for someone who wasn’t really there. Does that make sense?”
“Like the voice giving you orders was something you imagined for yourself?”
“Kind of,” she said.
“You could pretend I’m not here now.”
“It’s not the same. Not really. It feels weird with you just sitting there and not saying anything.” He wondered if she noticed how her fingers twisted into the blankets. “It feels … I don’t know.”
“Did you like being told what to do?” he asked. He didn’t want to evaluate his body’s response to that possibility. Or the way his voice had suddenly deepened.
Her gaze locked with his as she answered, “Yes.”
Chase’s jaw locked as he fought against swallowing. “Untie your robe, Abi,” he ordered before he could second guess his path.
The lines deepened across her brow. “But … I’m naked underneath.”
“Will you spend your entire life never discovering the simple pleasure of being naked while in the presence of another?” He could almost imagine Sam on the other side of the glass, her What the hell are you doing? barking up her throat. “Will you let your fear take that from you?”
Hurt seeped into her eyes. “No,” she said. Except, she didn’t sound so sure.
Chase wanted to make her sure. “Then, untie your robe. You unbuttoned your shirt the last time you were here. It’s the same.”
“Last time, I wore a bra underneath,” she said, her voice a little firmer.
“That didn’t stop you looking fucking divine.” His own tone came out harsh, and the two of them sat staring at one another, Abi’s chest trembling its way up and down like she struggled to interpret his words.
Or maybe she understood them just fine but didn’t quite believe their presence. Chase could hardly believe he’d spoken them himself.
Unclenching his jaw, he cleared his throat. “Untying your robe will enable you to move it aside,” he said, forcing calmness into his tone. “Otherwise, it might get in your way and restrict access to your body.” Chase had seen first-hand how frustrated women could get over a simple piece of clothing stalling their lust. “You asked for my vocal guidance. I’m giving it to you.”
She held his gaze for a long few seconds, releasing a quiet huff as she glanced away. Her fingers went to the belt at her waist. Fumbled with the knot she’d tied there. After working the fabric free, she pushed the two ends away, knocking the robe aside with them. As she twisted around to sit on her butt, the tips of her nipples poked free.
And Chase let out the longest of long fucking breaths.
“Do you still need me to tell you what to do?” he asked, when she glanced back toward him. “Do you need me to tell you to touch yourself, Abi?”
Heat blushed over her cheeks, but she held his gaze with her quiet, “Yes.”
“Lie back,” he ordered. He expected at least some defiance, but received none, as she uncurled herself down to the bed, leaving only her knees slightly raised. “Now stroke yourself. I want to know what pleasures you. I need you to show me what makes you feel good.”
“Should I … should I touch in there again?” She didn’t look his way as she spoke.
“Yes.”
Her lips parted as she reached down. As her fingers breached her pubis.
Chase almost wanted to shift his position, move his chair to where he’d have a better view of her cunt. If only to see how wet she could get with his commands guiding her actions.
He knew when she’d located a sweet spot by the heightened tone of her sigh. By the way her thighs lowered to the sides. Her hips nudged up so subtly, she probably didn’t even realise she moved them herself.
“How wet are you, Abi?” He needed to know.
Her head rolled to the side. Those eyes of her landed on him, their paleness even paler. Their brightness even brighter. “Wet,” she said, the word barely more than a whisper, shooting need into his already hardened cock.
“Use it,” he said. “Spread it. Make your clitoris wet until it slides beneath your fingers.”
She glanced away again as she stretched down. Her fingers dipped into her cunt, before she slipped them back out covered in her own juices and trailed a glossy path to her clit.
“Again.”
She obeyed. Back in to collect her personal nectar. Back up to paint herself with the evidence of pleasure.
“Now faster.”
Again, she did as directed. Her hand slipping to her cunt, gathering pre-cum, then back to her clitoris.
Chase couldn’t help noticing how her fingers lingered longer each time. Inside herself. Around her responding clitoris. He also couldn’t help but notice how her fingers had begun to curl each time she withdrew them from her pussy, meaning their tips would be stroking over her G-spot, heightening that desire of hers he could see building.
At that point, he should’ve been relaxing back into his seat. Letting the session take its course and leaving the client to find their own way. Except, his body wouldn’t let him relax. Wouldn’t let him lean back for even a second, lest he risk missing any part of the show. His arms corded tight, despite their casual placement over the chair’s rests. His jaw locked tight against the roll of his tongue. And each of his thigh muscles clenched into a solid mass of No! as his hips tried shunting forward in time with the throb of his cock.
“Stop holding back,” he told her, as she matched him in the set of her legs and the almost visible pinning of her ass against the bed. Almost as though she feared revealing how much she wanted what she could offer herself. As if she feared showing him. “Listen to what your body tells you. Obey its needs.”
Her breaths hastened as she thrust her hips up to meet the plunge of her fingers. Toes clenching tightly against the sheets, she spread her thighs wider until the tendons pulled taut through each, forcing her shifting hips into a smaller rhythm that held an almost frantic appeal. Her free hand released its clutch of the bedding and hovered over her torso. As if she wanted to touch herself further but didn’t know where.
Fuck, his cock hurt just from his watching her. His balls ached like a couple of bastards. Still, he wanted more. More from Abi. More for himself. More of fucking everything.
“Your breast,” he told her, his voice scarcely clinging to control. “Your nipple.”
As if she’d already pre-practised the act, her fingertips went straight to the rigid bud and rolled over its tip, her back instantly arching as if to beg contact from herself. Chase felt strangled by his own breaths as her entire body began a slow undulation into each of her ministrations.
“You’re still holding back.” He had no idea how he still managed to talk. He had no idea how he managed to cling onto the growing need in his groin, either. “I want you to show me how much you like your touch, Abi. I want to hear you.” He really wanted to fucking hear her.
Almost as soon as he’d spoken, her lips released a gasp that deepened into a moan. Her back arched higher. Her fingers plunged deeper, the ball of her hand massaging her stiff clitoris.
A
nd Chase knew he could look at her no longer. Because if he did … he’d be stripping out of his bottoms and fucking that sweet virginity the hell out of her, consequences be damned.
Closing his eyes, he forced his body back in the seat, forced himself to only listen.
“Good,” he murmured, when a deep groan boiling with need filled the room.
He pictured her hips driving upward, seeking solace for that need. Her heels drilling downward into the sheets. Letting his mind wander deeper, he caught on her cunt. Fingers pumping in and out, creating a waterfall of glossiness that spilled down to the crease of her ass.
“Use your thumb on your clitoris, Abi,” he ordered. “Rub it as you stroke your insides. Rub it until you yearn your own touch.”
He knew from the slight whimper when she’d hit it just right, and his cock swelled so fucking hard with a yearning of its own, Chase questioned if she’d notice if he just relieved himself there and then. If he hand-fucked the stiffness out of himself and eased the ache that burned right up into his gut.
Forcing his mind’s eye up higher, he latched onto his conjured image of her breasts. Full and beseeching. Hard as fucking pegs. And Abi’s hands massaging and plumping and nipping and toying. Those gentle sounds of hers spurred on by the sparks of pleasure he knew would be firing their way down to her pussy with every single pluck.
Above her heaving chest, that soft-shaped face contorted with the desperation to come. Mouth wide and expressive with every sigh, cry and whimper. Her eyes wide, so fucking wide. And one hundred percent on him, as if she needed the visual to reach her peak. As if the sight of him alone was her guidance.
Just thinking of her perfect, angelic face, he wanted to climb on that bed with her, grip that freefalling hair and yank her head back, show her what she could truly do with those lips. Teach her the most base noises of desire and how to create them.
As he imagined himself doing exactly that, pictured the thickness of his shaft sliding home into the heat of her wet mouth, he sensed the warmth of a body over his. The nudge of a thigh against his.
Letting his head fall back against the seat, he accepted the weight of another across his lap. Gripped tight to the arms of the seat as he imagined the trail of glossiness spreading across his legs as she straddled him.
The Therapist (Chase Walker Book 5) Page 2