by Harlow Layne
“I can’t breathe,” I finally grunted out. The amount of effort it took for me to get those three words out had sweat pouring down my face.
“Alright, take a deep breath in with me.” I listened as Kaspar took an exaggerated breath in and followed his breathing, but it wasn’t enough.
Udo rubbed his tires against mine, making the car jerk to the side. I had control of the car, but not of myself.
“Only five more laps.”
Five more laps and I would be dead—or at least it felt like it.
“Kaspar,” I croaked out, “I think I’m having a heart attack.”
There was a beat of silence before a familiar, yet unfamiliar voice came on over the headset. “Callum, I think you’re having a panic attack. Have you ever had one before?” Rylee’s soft voice drifted through my head.
I couldn’t be having a panic attack. Panic attacks were for pussies. I’d seen plenty of wrecks in my days and been a part of quite a few of them as well. There was no way that’s what this was.
“The medic, Rylee. I’m…” My breath got caught in my chest, and I wheezed.
“Pull into the pit, Callum,” she demanded.
If I didn’t finish, I wouldn’t qualify.
“I know what you’re thinking, and it doesn’t matter. Your safety and health are more important than anything else at this moment.” If it had been anyone else who’d said those words, I wouldn’t have listened. Maybe I only listened because I knew if I didn’t, I was going to wreck and very well might not make it back.
When the pit lane came into view, I slowed down even more and made my way to our slot. The moment I stopped, someone ripped off my helmet, and our team medics were by my side, checking me out.
“Can you get out?” he asked from beside me.
There were too many hands all around me as they tried to unbuckle me and remove the steering wheel so I could get out. The rest was a blur. It was as if I’d blacked out. The only thing I remembered was our team doctor saying I was fine, but I’d had a panic attack. Colton and Rylee were in the room, but I wasn’t sure when they had arrived because they hadn’t been there when we first went in.
Rylee gave me a sympathetic look while Colton remained stoic. I hated to disappoint him, but I was more disappointed in myself. How could I have lost control so easily from witnessing a wreck I’d seen hundreds of times before?
There was no simple explanation.
Aspen
Barcelona
“Mr. Crew is here to see you, Dr. Belle,” my secretary, Maria, called through from the intercom.
I looked at the clock and saw that he was over twenty minutes early. Not something I was used to in Barcelona.
“Let me finish up these notes. Give me five minutes, and then you can send him in,” I replied, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose. They were constantly sliding, and I was endlessly pushing them up all because I couldn’t touch my eyeball to put in my contacts.
Five minutes later, Maria knocked on my door before she opened it and let my next client in.
Standing, I smoothed down my black skirt and moved around my desk to meet him. Today hadn’t gotten off to a great start with my ex-boyfriend showing up out of the blue at the ass crack of dawn to ask me to take him back after he dumped me for another woman four months ago. I was finally moving on after he broke my heart, and the last thing I needed or wanted was to see him again.
The whole thing with Alejandro had left me out of sorts all morning long, and I didn’t want my new client to pick up on it. The first impression was always important, especially with a patient. It factored in with how soon they opened up.
Lifting my head and extending my arm to shake his hand, I was shocked when I took him in. I blinked slowly, as if in a dream. The man before me looked like JKF Jr. in the flesh with longish brown hair that was sexily tousled like only the rich seemed to be able to do. Only this guy had blue eyes that reminded me of a stormy ocean. The scruff on his jaw made me want to feel it between my legs. The fact that he had that much power over me in only a few seconds spelled bad news.
Stepping closer, I greeted him. “Good afternoon. I’m Dr. Belle. It’s nice to meet you.”
Taking the hand that was still hanging, he gave me a grimace of a smile. His low, but deep voice grumbled out. “I wish I could say the same thing.”
Alright, he was going to be one of those clients that hated being here and talking about their problems–typical American.
“Why don’t you have a seat wherever you feel comfortable, and we’ll start. Would you like something to drink?”
“Water would be nice. Thanks.” He looked around at his seating options before he chose the leather chair in front of my desk.
I didn’t like to tell my patients where to sit, especially the ones who didn’t want to be here in the first place. It seemed all the new ones who’d never been to see a therapist before expected me to demand they lie on my couch and spill all their deep dark secrets in the first hour after meeting me.
Taking my seat behind my desk, I cleared the lust from my throat before I hit the intercom button. “Maria, could you please bring us two bottles of water?”
“Yes, Dr. Belle. I’ll be right there.”
We remained quiet, examining each other as we waited for Maria to bring our drinks. I didn’t want to have to stop when she came in, and the view before me didn’t hurt.
I couldn’t remember the last time a man affected me so viscerally. Not even Alejandro had made me forget myself for a split second when we’d met.
Again, Maria knocked before she came in, as she always did. She placed both water bottles on my desk without a word or even a glance at the dream-like man in front of me before she left.
Leaning forward, he took one of the bottles, twisted off the cap, and then drank almost half the contents in one swallow.
“Shall we get started? I was told you needed an expedited process, but that’s all I was told. Whoever called for you didn’t seem to understand therapy doesn’t really work that way. It’s ongoing work.” I got right to the point. There was no sense in us wasting time if he was going to scoff at this being more than a one-time session.
Twisting the lid back on this water, his blue eyes locked with mine and rendered me incapable of thought for a moment. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to help him if I couldn’t get my libido in check. Had no sex for four months reduced me to a woman who couldn’t control herself?
“I’m a bit of an emergency case. I’ll admit I’ve never been to a therapist, although my boss’s wife is a counselor and there have been times when I felt like I was in a session, or what I imagine a session to be like when talking to her.” He slid his hands over his jean-clad legs. Jeans that were plastered against muscular legs that had me wanting him to rip them off and show me what he was hiding. “Sorry, I’m rambling. I’m nervous that you won’t be able to help me and while I hate to admit it, I need help. And fast.”
“May I call you Callum?”
“Yeah, of course,” he answered as if it was a silly question.
He had one of those voices that made you want to listen to him say anything. If he wanted to recite the phone book to me, I’d happily lie in a puddle of my own drool as I sat and listened while ogling him. Which was a problem.
He was my client, not meat on a stick, and I needed to remember that. He was probably going to leave here thinking how unprofessional I was after I sat here and stared at him the whole session.
“Let’s start with what brought you here today, Callum.”
“Well, that’s easy. I’ve had two panic attacks in the last two days, making it impossible for me to do my job.”
“And what job is that?”
He sat up a little straighter in his seat, even though he already had perfect posture. “I’m a Formula One race car driver.”
He was proud, and I was impressed with his profession. I’d never seen a race in person, but I’d caught it on TV once or twice. Be
fore I moved from the States, no one made a big deal out of it, but in Barcelona, it was a huge event. The citizens went crazy when the Grand Prix hit their country, and I knew from all the excitement there had been a race yesterday.
“Did you just start as a driver?” Maybe his nerves got to him with it being his first race.
“I’ve been doing it since I was nineteen years old.” A bit of a southern twang came out, making me wonder where he was from.
“You mentioned you had two panic attacks recently. Were they your first ones?”
“I thought I was dying while in the cockpit of my car.” His gaze became unfocused as he most likely remembered the feeling of those attacks. “Yesterday I couldn’t even get inside the car. I started to, and then it hit me. My entire body seemed to crank up ten degrees, which might as well have felt like a hundred in my suit. When my heart started to race, and it sounded like I was in a tunnel, I knew I couldn’t race. If I had got in my car, I would have lost control in the first few minutes of being out on the track and then most definitely died or killed someone else.”
Having a panic attack while driving wasn’t safe, but it was a whole other level when going over two hundred miles per hour. I was glad he understood how serious it was.
“I’m glad you didn’t drive. You mentioned having them on consecutive days. What happened the other day when you had your panic attack?”
“The same symptoms, but I was out on the track. I had to come in and didn’t finish my qualifying laps.” He banged his fist on his leg, and his nostrils flared.
Most men didn’t like losing control, but for a man like Callum, who, going by his profession, was most definitely dominant in everything he did, it was worse. I was sure he was beating himself up about what he perceived as his failure.
“Did anything eventful happen before it started?”
I was surprised at how easily he was talking to me. I guess he really was desperate.
“A wreck, but it had cleared before I reached it. They’re always quick to get out of the way, and…I knew that, but it didn’t matter.”
Something had obviously happened, but Callum might not have been putting the two together.
“Okay, so you know wrecks are usually cleared, so what was different about that day? That wreck in particular?”
Placing his elbows on his knees, Callum hung his head. His fingers pulled at the strands of his hair as he grunted in frustration.
“It was my first race back after my wreck. I’d been out for four races and was anxious to get back on the track. My team depends on me for points. Without me, they won’t be making the top positions at the end of the year.”
They also wouldn’t ever make those positions if he ended up dead.
“That’s a lot of pressure on you. Were you ready to start back racing?”
He let out a bitter sounding scoff. “More than ready. I was climbing the walls while I was at home. I’m not used to sitting around doing nothing.”
“Were you hurt badly in your wreck?” Physically he looked fine, but there had been something that kept him from racing in those four races he missed.
“Just scrapes and bruises and a concussion,” he answered as if his injuries were no big deal, but a concussion was serious. It was possible he still had it.
“Was anyone else hurt?” I softly asked.
“There was another car, and he died. They didn’t tell me at first, but once I was released from the hospital, I found out.”
“After you found out, did it make you think it could have been you?”
“Oh, yeah. I saw the wreck coming, but that time it didn’t clear. I went through the smoke, and when I reached the other side, there was more wreckage. Bam!” he shouted. “It all went down in slow motion, and while I braced, I wasn’t sure if I would die or not.”
I didn’t think he gave the experience he’d had enough credit. An average wreck could be traumatic, but seeing it and knowing it’s about to happen, with speeds and consequences of that magnitude, was too much to handle. With a concussion afterward, he was bound to have some anxiety. Maybe if there hadn’t been a wreck the first time he got back into a car, he would have been fine. Or maybe one would have been triggered after he saw another wreck on or off the track.
He lifted his head, his eyes filled with desperation, and pleaded, “I need to be able to get back out on the track, Doc. I have less than two weeks until my next race.”
“I can’t promise you miracles in such a short amount of time, but we can work on trying to get you back behind the wheel. Did you drive here?” I didn’t have the heart to tell him there was no way to cure someone in such little time.
“Taxi. I didn’t want to risk the chance of freaking out again behind the wheel.” He let out a harsh breath. “I sound like a fucking pussy. Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to swear, but I can’t help it.”
“I take no offense. Plenty of clients swear and do much worse, so don’t worry about it.”
He perked up. His distress from a moment ago forgotten. “Oh, yeah, like what?”
I shook my head. “I can’t tell you that; doctor-patient confidentiality.”
“Fair,” he leaned forward again on his elbows.
“Since I’ve been hired to help you for the next week, why don’t we meet tomorrow at a car rental place, and we’ll start from there.”
“What’s renting a car going to do?” he questioned harshly.
“First, you’re going to rent it, and then you’re going to drive it. I’ll be with you, of course, in case you start to feel any panic. We’ll also work on exercises for you to try before you drive. But I can’t promise you you’ll be ready to race in two weeks. I’m sorry.”
“I have faith in you, Doc.”
“That’s all our time for today. I have a few more patients to see since I won’t be available to them for the week. Why don’t you verify your contact information with Maria out there, and she’ll call or text you the time and place for us to meet tomorrow?”
He looked a little apprehensive, but he stood and held out his hand for me to shake. “Thanks for meeting with me and letting me take up all your time.”
“It was my pleasure, Callum.”
I only hoped I could keep myself under control once we were out of the office. Neither one of us could afford for me to get sidetracked.
Aspen
Barcelona
I stood waiting for Callum to show up outside of Enterprise. I’m not sure what possessed me to suggest being in such close proximity to him after I nearly drooled at the very sight of him the day before.
Last night, I pulled my vibrator out of my drawer and used it until I literally passed out from the sheer amount of orgasms I’d given myself. When I’d woken up this morning, said vibrator had fallen to the floor sometime during the night. It was now charging by my bedside in case I need any more assistance trying to remember I didn’t need a man—any man—to give me orgasms.
Hopefully, Callum wouldn’t affect me today like he had yesterday. Maybe yesterday was because I hadn’t been regularly servicing myself.
Scrolling through the messages from my office on my phone, I felt him before I saw him. There was something electric in the air. A charge that had me hyperaware. And then his smell hit me. Yesterday it was light in the air, but today the heady smell of citrus and sandalwood brought my lady bits back to life after being fully exhausted last night.
Closing my eyes, I prepared myself to see him. If my body was already behaving like this from his presence and smell alone, I was in trouble.
“Hey!” he called out in a chastising tone as he grabbed my elbow and pulled me into his strong body when a man came barreling out of the rental place, spewing profanities.
The guy didn’t even look back or say excuse me as he stomped down the street.
“Are you okay, Doc?” His low, deep voice vibrated through me, making me all too aware of our proximity.
“I’m fine. Thanks for saving me.” I took a st
ep back before I lost myself and leaned into him. “Are you ready for today?”
His blue eyes darted to the side before his head barely signaled a shake. “I never thought I’d be in this position.”
“And what position is that?”
“Scared to drive a car because of what my body might do, but I know I have to do this.” He huffed out a sharp breath and then opened the door to the rental car agency, holding it open for me. “Ladies first.”
“Thank you. I know today will be hard, more difficult than you realize, but if you want to drive again, you have to do this. But I promise you that I’ll be here every step of the way.”
“I’m counting on it, Doc.”
Thirty minutes later, we were sitting in front of Enterprise with Callum behind the wheel, and a light sheen of sweat had already coated his handsome face.
Perhaps starting at the rental place wasn’t the best location. I wanted to do some meditation exercises with him that weren’t easily done out in public. Tomorrow I’d make sure to pick a better location.
Callum was handsome—too handsome for his own good—and with my attraction to him, it made my job more than a little difficult.
“Okay, Callum, right now, I want you to take some deep breaths. I’m not going to make you drive this car if you’re uncomfortable doing so. You’re safe with me and in this car.”
He let out a shaky breath. “Right, deep breaths. I sure hope you have better skills than telling me what naturally comes to my body for the amount you’re being paid.”
It was common for patients to lash out, so I let the comment slide. I was damn good at my job, and my price reflected that.
“I can assure you, Mr. Crew, I have more up my sleeve than a few deep breathing exercises, but it’s a process, and you need to calm your mind, and the best first step is to breathe.”
“Fine,” he grumbled, but took a few deep breaths in through his mouth and out through his nose. I noticed his body started to relax a fraction.