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I walk over to the leather chair in the waiting area as she calls through to the therapist she could just walk to. Lazy fucker.
"You can go in now, Noah," she says, distracted by her computer screen again. I get up and face the large mahogany door, and without knocking, I open it and walk in.
Stepping over the threshold, an odd feeling overtakes me that I’ve never felt before. This room suddenly feels pressurized, like it's about to implode from the lack of oxygen. I watch as the man who can't be much older than me, stands and walks around the desk to approach me.
He has baby blue eyes that I want to see crying in rivers of fear. His mop of brown hair is thick and screaming to be pulled on. He’s like a pretty boy jock and built like one too. Under those preppy pants and shirt, you can see he works out. Images flash through my mind of what it would be like to wrestle him, to choke him, to make him cry while I skull fuck him with my cock.
I feel a rush of prickling heat spread up my spine. I want to smell him, bury my face in his neck and hair. He would look perfect tied up in my apartment. This is what they must mean by love at first sight. Except in my case, it's claiming at first sight.
It dawns on me that we’ve just been standing here staring at each other, and I'm not sure if he has already spoken, and I haven't heard him. I don’t think that's true, though, as he looks like he is away in his own thoughts, too.
I feel a smirk on my lips, a smirk I know looks sadistic to most. I'm not used to smiling, but I feel some kind of pleasure atthe thought that he likes what he sees. If this were a bar setting, grabbing him and stealing those lips for my own would be much simpler. I decide there and then that I want to keep him. Play with him. My cock likes that idea. I have a focused and obsessive nature, meaning I just latch onto what I want and take it. There is no build-up, no foreplay. I know instantly what I want when I see it; in this case, it happens to be the man in front of me.
I look down and see he has stretched his hand out to me. I briefly assess it before remembering that strangers in a professional setting normally shake hands.
"Noah, I'm Mr. Blackford, but please call me Chase. I want you to feel as comfortable as you can while you’re here. This is a safe space for you." He smiles with a little of what looks like hesitancy.
I shake his hand, and a warm feeling shoots up my arm. His hands are so soft and gentle. I want to feel him rub me all over with them. To see if that heat reaches other places on my body.
"Safe?" I ask. He’s far from safe with me, and now that he has my attention, he’s in for a world of problems.
He awkwardly clears his throat and ignores my question. "Take a seat, Noah, and we can start." He moves to sit down, and I walk over to the oversized armchair in front of him.
We both find ourselves staring at one another again, probably for different reasons. I guess he’s working out an angle to get me to talk, but I’m thinking of ideas of how to take him apart piece by piece and make him my own. My very own plaything. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve often wondered what it would be like to have my own person to lock away for only my pleasure and attention—all mine.
"So, Noah, I see you’ve been back in Seattle for six months now. Tell me, how are you settling back in?" he asks, in full professional mode. He won't get anything out of me. It’s not how I work.
"Fine," I reply disinterestedly, but I don't take my eyes off him. I maintain eye contact throughout this meeting, unable to look away. Still, it's making him uncomfortable with the blush that occasionally tints his cheeks and the slight fluster of words when he asks me a question. I answer each with, at most, one word.
"You seem quite closed off, Noah. Do you often struggle with expressing emotion?" he asks.
"Yeah." I shrug. You have to have emotions to express them, which I don’t.
Appearing to be frustrated with his lack of progress, he starts tapping his pen against his notepad, wiggling in his chair, trying to get comfortable. Has he already worked out what kind of man he has in his office and the danger he’s in? Or is it because of the sexual interest I detected earlier?
"Why do you think that is?" he asks. I cannot help the feral smile on my face as his eyes squint with wariness, his prominent Adam's apple moving on a hard swallow. I want to bite it.
"Because I don't feel emotion, emotion is a weakness," I say.
"Well, that's not true. Even having that thought is an emotion. We just process emotions and feelings differently."
I nod and remain silent. Poor little Chase, he really has no idea what’s happening. He can't read his patients as well as he thinks.
"Okay…um, well, I think that's time for today. I do think you should arrange a weekly appointment with me. It would be beneficial for you in the long run. How does that sound?'' he asks as I snort.
"Whatever you want…Chase.'' He flushes at how I say his name. I intended to try to appear flirtatious, and I think I succeeded. Flirting is not something I ever do. When I spend time interacting with others, I follow their behaviors and try toperfect their patterns. Otherwise, I would come across as some deranged, grunting caveman.
I rise out of my seat and amble over to the door. "Be seeing you soon, Chase." I grin at him over my shoulder and leave the confines of his office.
Fuck. In the past hour, Chase has settled in my brain and my blood, and I'm already addicted. I’ve never felt this way before, wanting to keep someone for myself. A feeling of warmth wraps around my body at the thought of bringing him home with me. He’s the kind of distraction and entertainment I need to make the mundane days of boredom disappear. Excitement builds in my stomach at the thought of catching Chase. He doesn’t know the hunting has begun, and I’ll see him sooner than he thinks.
CHAPTER 3
CHASE
As the door closed behind Noah, I let out the breath I felt I’d been holding in for the last hour. This is not good. So not good. Before I took the job here, I worried about the possibility of any attractions that may form for or from a patient, and I pushed it to the side as I realized I could easily separate work from my personal life. People find others attractive every day and don't need to act on it. They just accept it as it is, a moment of lust, but this feeling is making me nervous.
When Noah walked in, a fire started to build in my belly that fluttered with butterflies of thrilling temptation.He is gorgeous. I don't mean in a pretty or beautiful way. I mean so much full-on sex, bad boy, masculine gorgeousness that I felt myself falter and my brain suddenly stopped functioning.
