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“Michael!”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Okay. Just relax. You’ll love again one day.”
“Sorry?” Michael laughed. “Wait a minute. No, I’m not.”
“What do you mean?” The tone of his voice was decidedly different. Even the twang she’d grown to love was gone, replaced by a clipped and deeper tone.
Snapping his head up, he grinned, his eyes sliding down the length of her body. “Not sorry at all. I prefer real women.”
She broke into a cold sweat and gripped the edge of the desk. The expression on his face was determined, malevolent. This wasn’t the same man who’d walked into her office two years ago. Hell, he wasn’t the same on as an hour before. Michael Cavanaugh was recently divorced and with his incredible looks, could have the arm of any woman. This man was angry, bitter and horrified. Jesus Christ. He’s coming onto me. “Stay focused, Michael.”
He wants you like all men do.
Every muscle in her body was tense. Her tendons were rigid and her dream lover’s words echoed in her ears. Her extreme workload was creating manifestations, nothing more. She was a woman with an extraordinary imagination.
“Oh, I am. Fuck the bitch. I can get more. Right?” Licking around his lips in an exaggerated fashion, he made a suckling sound. He winked and pulled the chair further away from the table, purposely scraping the tips across the floor. “Maybe we should talk, doc. Like we used to. Huh? Have you had any good sex lately? Do you have some thick cock servicing you every night?” His look turned into a leer. “You never told me if your pussy is shorn. Better to suck up your sweet juices.”
“Michael. You know that’s not appropriate.” Dear God, the man was losing his mind.
“My, my Ms. Blade. You used to love to tell me how every man you’ve ever known always wanted to tie you spread eagled, flog every inch of your tight body. I bet your skin glistens in candlelight. I can only imagine how wet you’d be as you wait for your Master to strike, inflicting every inch of your body with lashes. I bet you crave pain. Don’t you? Mmm…”
The question lingered.
You do crave punishment, my sweet slut. You can’t deny your desires.
“That’s it. We’re not playing a game Michael and you can call me Dr. Blade. Do you understand?” She heard the strangled sound of her voice as fear crept in. He wasn’t merely undressing her. He wanted to devour her.
“Dr. Blade. Of course. I meant no disrespect.”
Destiny had grown overly concerned about him during the last three sessions, enough so she’d gone to his home just last week. Seeing the run down area had been eye opening. Darkness filled his soul. Whatever was going on in his mind, the demon was threatening to derail his entire life. This particular twist had her more than just nervous.
You can have him if you so desire. You haven’t had a man in well over a year. Take him. Fuck him. Use him.
Shut up. Shut up! This time Destiny bristled and scanned the perimeter of the room. She raked her nails over the top of her hand in an endless circle. Up to this point she hadn’t allowed her dreams to interfere with any aspect of her everyday life. She’d merely grabbed a glass of wine and moved in front of her computer to hide from the voice. Only after watching several videos had she ever shifted to a place of ecstasy, a single relief. You need a few days off and hours of sleep.
“I can see inside of you. I know what you’re thinking. I know what you want.” Michael’s face held an edge.
“We aren’t talking about this. We’re talking about you and you’re going to stop the bullshit and listen to me. Do you understand me at all, Michael?”
The bravado in the man seemed to fade, his body slumping in the chair. Michael fisted his mouth as he shook his head several times.
“Talk to me. Tell me who and what you think you are.”
His fingers tore at his hair, ripping out chunks.
“Michael. Don’t do that!” She closed the distance, bending down and placing her hand on his arm. “Just relax and talk to me. We can discuss anything, but you will talk to me.”
Instantly he stopped his actions and lowered his head. She wasn’t even certain he was breathing. “Good. Now tell me why you think you’re so horrible.”
Buzz…
She cringed from the special sound on her inner office phone. There were zero interruptions allowed when she was with a patient and this was the second incident of the hour. This was the last appointment of the day, for God’s sake. Whatever seemed to be so important certainly could wait for another ten freaking minutes. “Tell me!”
Michael shivered. “No. No!”
Shit. Her tone was harsh. She certainly didn’t need to take out her frustrations on a man whose entire mental stability might pop without warning. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry with you. This has been a particularly long day.” Long? She’d been working fourteen-hour days for a solid two weeks. Her exhaustion was affecting her practice as well as her rational mind.
