I swallow hard and tip my chin up, doing my best to act like being this close to him doesn’t bother me one bit. “Thank you, Mr. Douglas.”
Even the slow nod he gives me is sexy. “Dr. Mead.”
Sliding into the seat, I feel it scoot in behind me, his thumb grazing my shoulder. Goosebumps erupt all over my skin at the thought of Tyke’s proximity. The feeling doesn’t let up because moments later he takes the seat directly beside me.
I risk a glance at him just as he unfolds the cloth napkin from the table and then smoothes it over one leg. I find myself mesmerized by the way his thick fingers move so gracefully across the material and my gaze lands on his crotch, a visceral reaction to the idea of what could possibly be under those snug jeans causing me to bite my lip.
A deep chuckle snaps me out of my daze, and I quickly look away, refocusing harder than necessary on the silverware in front of me.
I go to work, straightening my fork next to my knife, and feel his hot breath on my neck as he leans in and whispers, “See something you like, Doc?”
Still unable to look at him, I shake my head, feeling my hair slide across his face. “No.”
“Did you say something, Dr. Mead?” Josie asks from across the table, and I’m instantly mortified that I said anything out loud.
My cheeks heat, and I know without a doubt they’re rosy red. “No, Josie, I was just thinking out loud.”
She raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow at me. “Okay...”
For a moment, I worry that I’ll have to explain myself further, but thankfully Randall sits next to her and Josie forgets me almost immediately.
I snap my gaze to Tyke and narrow my eyes, the urge to let him know that he’s not going to possess any power over me whatsoever overwhelming. No amount of smooth talking will make me change the rules I’ve set for myself. I’m going to remain celibate, no matter how much it freaking kills me.
“No more of that will be tolerated, Mr. Douglas,” I tell him sternly, which only makes his smile widen.
Dear God. Why does he have to have such a sexy mouth? This isn’t fair. How am I expected to live so close to this man if he continues to pursue me in such a forward manner?
Tyke rests his arm on the table and grins crookedly. “We’ll see.”
I open my mouth to scold him, but before I have the opportunity, Wayne’s voice startles me. “Good evening, everyone.”
I turn toward the door just in time to see my boss strut into the room in yet another fabulously pressed and extremely expensive-looking suit. It’s almost as if everyone answers in unison because a chorus of good evenings rings around the room.
Wayne takes his seat next to mine. “Dr. Mead, I trust you’ve met our newest resident?”
I place the napkin on my lap just as Sue pushes her cart full of salad into the room. “Yes, I’ve had the pleasure twice now.”
Tyke chokes on his water next to me, but I refuse to acknowledge his response to my choice of words. When I said pleasure, in no way did it have any sexual connotations.
Wayne, on the other hand, begins to eat his salad, paying no mind at all to the smartass next to me. “Good. I would like you to head up his first session after dinner. Would that be all right with you, Mr. Douglas?”
Tyke’s eyes flick to me, and then he gives me a dazzling white smile. “I’d love a little one-on-one time with her.”
Oh, God. Heaven help me. This man is going to be trouble.
The kind I have a very hard time resisting.
“Man in the Box” – Alice in Chains
Dr. Mead takes the seat across from me and crosses her smooth legs, which immediately catches my attention. My gaze travels from the tip of her black stiletto all the way up her toned, tanned calf, stopping when I get to the hem of her short skirt, stretched tightly across her thighs. All I can think of is getting down on my knees in front of her and tracing the length of those sexy legs with my hands to discover what material her panties are made of. I bet they’re lace. An image of a red lace thong pressing against her pussy pops into my mind and my dick twitches.
Fuck.
I move in my seat and fight the urge to adjust my semi-hard cock right in front of her. I have to stop thinking of her like this. This woman is a fucking professional. She’s not going to fuck me on a whim, no matter how much I turn on the charm. Besides, she’s my doctor for fuck’s sake, and my way back into the guys’ good graces.
“Mr. Douglas, you may call me Frannie. I find that the less formality, the more beneficial it is in helping us connect on a more personal level, since the things we discuss in my office are very sensitive in nature. I want you to feel comfortable with me and allow yourself to open up. It’s the only way to dig deep into the true root of the issues you’re here to work out.” Frannie takes the reading glasses that are clinging to the neckline of her shirt and carefully unfolds them, before slipping them onto the bridge of her nose. “Would you like to start by telling me a little about yourself?”
I furrow my brow. I hate talking about myself. It always feels so lame. Put me in an interview where we talk music and I can spout that shit all day long, but getting personal is an entirely different beast.
“I’d rather talk about the possibility of me and you happening.”
She sighs. “Mr. Douglas—”
I hold my hand up. “Call me Tyke, and never say never. I’d hate for you to lie to yourself.”
“I’m sure you’re used to women throwing themselves at your feet, Tyke, but that’s not going to happen. I’m here because I am your therapist, not because we are going to develop a sexual relationship. The only issues we need to discuss are about why you are here. There will be nothing else discussed in this room.”