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“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. I know you want to.”
“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 her leg. “If it’s something we both want,” her skirt goes higher, “why is it wrong?”
“Because I could lose my license.” I yank on my tie to loosen it. 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 wane 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 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’s very happy to finally have part of her family close by. She saves part of her lunch to give to a homeless man she passes by everyday 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 personal 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. “Pretend you don’t know I’ve been going to the park and show me what you do when you sit on that bench 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 tick 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 and bare except for the small landing strip.
Pure fucking heaven.
“Do you touch yourself when men watch you?”
I know she doesn’t, or she hasn’t the times I’ve watched her, but I want to hear her say it.
“No,” she moans.
“Why?”
“Because it never feels right. I only wanted them to see my body, not my pleasure.”
Her eyes slam down to my lap when I palm my aching cock through my slacks.
“Do you want to now?”
She licks her lips and nods.
“Why?” I ask again.
“Because it feels right,” she answers breathlessly. “It always feels right when I think about you and touch myself.”
Fuck me.
“How long?”
“Since my first visit.”
