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Client message:I don’t fucking care how much it cost.
Whatever. If he wants to be a dumbass and waste all his money, then who am I to stop him? It certainly has nothing to do with wanting to talk to him. Of course not. That’s not why I’m sending him an offhours appointment.
Not even two minutes pass after I click send before my work app rings with a new incoming call. “Desperate much?” I answer.
“Yes,” he responds, not even bothering to try to deny it. He opted to use his original voice mask, and mine is already on by default.
“Oh, so we’re playing Mr. Smith again, is it?”
He doesn’t seem as amused as I am about it. “You know all these accusations of playing games are pretty rich coming from the girl who’s stringing along a certain doctor.”
“Who says I’m stringing him along?”
“You don’t want him.”
I push myself back against my pillows and get comfortable. “Yeah, well, you don’t always get what you want in life. Isn’t that right?”
“Do you really think I’m just going to let you keep doing this with random fuckheads?”
I release a surprised laugh. “You don’t get to decide that, so unless you’re going to be a real client, I’m ending this call.”
“Wait!”
I pause, remaining quiet to allow him to continue, but he doesn’t say anything. “Yes?” I ask, irritated.
He exhales, sounding conflicted. “I’m not sober.”
“Oh?” I ask, not really sure where he’s going with this.
“And you’re not sober.”
“Okay?” I question.
“So maybe you’re not paying attention to your caller’s information. Maybe you think I’m a stranger.”
“Okay, so maybe I think you’re a stranger. Where are you going with this?”
His breathing picks up on the other end of the line. So much so that I can hear it through the phone. “So maybe the universe is giving us a break. Maybe you can have what you want with a get out of jail free card.”
My heart is pounding so hard that I can barely think. I’m not sure if it’s nerves or adrenaline, but my whole body is on edge. “What are you saying?”
“Make me come, Thea.”
My breath catches in my throat. “Mack…”
“You aren’t allowed to have my personal details.”
“Neither are you, Mr. Smith.”
“Molly.”
“Yes?”
“Just do your fucking job.”
The whole world around me goes silent until the only sound I can hear is our breathing through the phone. I let the guilt melt away until I hit a point I’ve never met before. I let what I want lead me. I don’t let the worry of how my actions are going to affect other people take over like it usually does. I give myself what I want.
“Are you touching yourself, Mr. Smith?”
