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“Right,“ I say. He hands me the vape pen and I take a hit as we both watch the fog in front of the psychiatric facility. I give it back to him and our fingers touch. He’s warm, much warmer than our muggy surroundings. “I didn’t take you for the kind of person who wakes and bakes.“
“I’m not. Not usually.“
I turn to look at him, waiting for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. I want to shake him. I want him to tell me why he’s here. “So,“ I say. “Why did you wait?“
“I wasn’t planning on checking you out at all, actually,“ he says. “This is highly irregular. I could lose my license if you decide to report me, and you’re, you know, not my patient.“
“What am I then?“ I ask.
He waves me off. “I’m not sure,“ he says. “We can talk about that later.“
I raise my eyebrows, about to pry more when he shakes his head.
“Something happened, Trine,“ he says. “I had this dream about you.“
“So you decided to check me out of the looney bin?“
He smiles. “Mental care facility.“
“You’re policing my language so you don’t have to address my point.“
“I’m policing your language because it’s offensive,“ he says. “And I decided to check you out because I needed to see you.“
“Why?“
He stuffs the vape pen into the front pocket of his jacket and stands in front of me, his arms caging me in against the hood of the car. “To do this,“ he says.
I open my mouth to ask him what he means, but there’s no way I can speak, because his lips are pressed hard against mine. I feel his body, lean and hard against mine. I know I should ask him to stop; we’re in public, someone might walk past us, we’re in front of the mental care facility.
My psychiatrist just checked me out to fuck me.
I don’t have a moment to ask him about it because the moment I open my mouth, his tongue is inside, and he’s kissing me so hungrily that it’s hard to breathe. I put my hands on his chest, my fingers curling around the zipper of his jacket, and when I start to slide it down his arms, he makes this delicious sound from the back of his throat.
He pulls away from me for a second as if he’s just caught himself. “You good?“
I nod.
“Tell me you want this.“
“I want this,“ I say breathlessly.
He smiles, just for a second, then closes the space between us again. He kisses me for what feels like forever, his arm draped around my waist as he pulls me close to him. I can feel the heat of his body, his erection pressing into my stomach. As he does this, he sets me atop the hood of the car in one swift movement so that I’m leaning on it and my feet are off the ground under me but I’m not quite sitting down either.
God, he’s so fucking strong.
His hands slide down my waist until they’re resting on my ass and he’s pulling me closer to him. He pulls my leg toward him so that my knee is level with his waist and I slide my hands down his front until I’m fumbling with his buttons.
I think I look terrible, but it obviously doesn’t matter to him because he’s hungry and he wants more, and I’m happy to give it to him. He slides his fingertips into the waistband of my panties and slides them halfway down my legs, his free hand sliding up my front until he slides his fingers into my mouth.
He pulls himself away from me for a few seconds, his breathing jagged as he does.
I look up at him. “I want to get you ready,“ he says.
He doesn’t have to because I’m clearly wet, but I don’t have time to say anything because he slides his hand between my legs and pushes a finger inside of me.
“Fuck,“ he says, his voice trembling. He slides his fingers into me, curling them so he can get to my g-spot, his thumb stroking my clit as he does. He fucks me hard with his hand, his teeth raking down my pulse as his tongue makes a path down my throat, each stroke almost enough for him to send me over the edge.
I throw my head back and moan as quietly as I can, my body already shaking with pleasure. I want him to keep fingering me but I don’t think he can hold back for much longer and neither can I.
