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Yes, I’m a bastard for asking when I already know. I’m also apparently into self-torture, because that’s exactly what it does to me when she speaks about her times in the park. Of course, it could be because she spares no details.
Something passes through Charlotte’s eyes, but before I determine what it is, the look is gone. She licks her lips and adjusts in her chair, her tits jiggling with the movement, putting my control precariously close to the edge. She has to know what she’s doing to me.
“It was yesterday,” she says, her voice husky, as if the reminder sends pleasure through her. It sure as fuck does me.
“And how did it go?” My voice comes out way too raw.
One corner of her mouth tips up, as if she knows of my struggle. “It was actually disappointing,” she admits.
I lift a brow, intrigued. “How so?”
“Because the man who was sitting across from me wasn’t the man I wanted him to be.”
I drop my foot to the floor, but make sure the notepad covers my impossibly hard erection.
I clear my throat before I make a fool of myself. “And who did you wish it were?”
A light blush forms on her face, contradicting the strong and bold woman I know Charlotte to be. It takes her a moment to answer, and when she does, her voice is determined. “I think we both know that answer, Dr. Erikson.”
My eyes snap to her thighs when she uncrosses her legs then tucks her ankles together under the chair, letting her knees part a couple of inches.
I can’t fucking help it. No sane, hot-blooded male could. The temptation of seeing what she’s hiding beneath her skirt is too much.
Her legs are still pressed together enough that I can’t really see anything. It’s on the tip of my tongue to demand she spread them wider, but I hold on to a thread of my control.
“Charlotte,” I start, yanking my eyes to her face. “I think—”
“Say it, Bryan,” she croons. Hearing her say my first name for the first time in a voice she’s never used before—pure seduction and want—has my balls drawing up unbearably tight. “Tell me to open them wider.”
“This is wrong,” I grit between clenched teeth, strangling the pen in my hand. “I’m your doctor, Charlotte.”
“Who says it’s wrong?” she questions. Her hands move to her thighs, and she scrapes her nails against the material of her skirt, causing it to slide up. “If it’s something we both want,” her skirt goes higher, “why is it wrong?”
“Because I could lose my license.” I open the top two buttons of my dress shirt. It’s hot as fuck in here.
“Only if you tell.” She offers a sexy little smile. “It can be our dirty little secret.”
I don’t want her to be a dirty little secret. If I take Charlotte like I’ve been dying to for the last six months, I know I’ll want more than a one-time fuck, or even a once-a-week fuck. She isn’t just a passing interest. My lust won’t end with a one and done. Charlotte’s sexy as all hell, but she’s more than just a way to appease my lust. She’s sweet and kind and giving. I’ve spent the better part of half a year getting to know her. During our sessions, we didn’t only talk about her need to expose herself; we talked about her everyday life. I know she talks to her parents several times a week. She volunteers at the local animal shelter. She saves part of her lunch to give to a homeless man she passes by every day going home from work. Once a week, she goes grocery shopping for the elderly woman who lives in the house next to hers. She wants kids—three to be exact.
There’s so much more to Charlotte than her stellar body, and I find I really fucking want to be part of her life.
It’s because of that desire, I decide to give in. Our relationship may move from professional to sexual today, but it won’t be long before I make sure she wants something more too.
I toss the notepad on the table between us and stretch out my legs, showing her with my actions—and the erection she can no doubt see through my slacks—my surrender.
“Show me,” I demand huskily. I tip my chin to her legs. “Show me what you do when you sit on those benches and let those men see you.”
Her mouth opens and she pulls in a little breath. Her pulse is so rapid I can see the small tic in her neck, and her tongue darts out to lick along her bottom lip.
I move my eyes to her legs just as she parts them more, but it’s still not enough to get a good look.
“Wider, Charlotte. I know you give those men more. Show me what I want.”
A moan slips from her lips at the same time her legs open wider.
“Your skirt,” I grunt. “Pull your skirt up.”
She glides her skirt up her thighs, and I swear it takes ten fucking minutes for her to reveal what I’ve been dying to see. No panties, and so damn wet her thighs glisten. Soft pink lips, bare except for the small landing strip.
