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“Yeah well, I already know the only good advice anyone can give me is to stay the fuck away.”
His brows jump up. “I guess you’re referring to your bombshell patient you’ve been harping about the last couple of months?”
“Yes,” I growl. Running a hand over the top of my head, I slide it down to grip the back of my neck. “The woman’s too goddamn tempting.”
Grabbing the rag off the counter behind him, he walks so he’s standing in front of me and begins to wipe down the bar. “She show any interest in you?”
I think back to our session yesterday and an image of her purposely raising the hem of her skirt pops in my head. Creamy white flesh. The hint of her panties. That godforsaken garter belt strap. The look in her eyes she gives me sometimes.
“Yes,” I tell Reed.
I’ve spoken to Reed about Charlotte on several occasions when I find myself in Whiskey Blues after work. He knows about my growing obsession with her. He knows she’s my patient but doesn’t know why. You know, privacy and all that shit. Most times, he just lets me rant, offering very little advice. It works for me, because there’s not a damn thing he can say that’ll help my situation.
He tosses the rag underneath the bar, then sets his hands on the wood, leaning toward me. “Why don’t you just give in and fuck her?”
At his suggestion, my dick twitches behind the zipper of my slacks. Just the thought of giving into my need, for the raven-haired beauty who sits in front of me each week and tells me about her exploits of showing off her pussy to random men, has blood rushing south and my mouth watering.
I shake my head of the thought and slam back another shot of Jack. Maybe if I get drunk enough I’ll be able to control the fucked-up things going on in my head. Or maybe I’ll black out. The only problem with that is, Charlotte’s been invading my dreams lately too.
I look back at Reed, finding his expression expectant.
“As you stated earlier, my degree didn’t come cheap, so I’m not about to risk it by having sex with a client. Not to mention the lawsuit I could have on my hands.”
“You really think she’d sue you?”
No, I don’t. Not with the way Charlotte eyes me like I’m a piece of candy and she’s salivating to have a taste. I’m a mere thread away from breaking the code of ethics and let her.
“Not really. But I don’t really know the woman.”
“You’re her psychologist. You probably know her better than her family does.”
I grunt. “I only know what she tells me. And what her body says while she’s in my office.”
“And what’s her body saying?”
I sigh and scrub a hand down my face. “That she’s waiting for the moment my control snaps, and I drag her to the floor and rut at her too-willing body.”
“Sounds like to me you need to give her what she wants.” He pushes the bottle of Jack closer to me. “That or tell her she needs to find a new doctor.”
Charlotte talking to someone else about her addiction of showing off her body has my fists twitching to punch something. Her secrets are mine and mine alone. Her finding another doctor is out of the question.
No fucking way.
Which means I’m royally fucked.
The two stools to the left of me are suddenly taken by Jamison and Rayn. The pair have known each other since they were in diapers. Their families were good friends, which solidified a close friendship between Jamison and Rayn. In high school, while both families were vacationing together in the Caymans, Jamison’s mom and Rayn’s dad were shot in a robbery. Ten years ago, their living parents shocked them both by eloping in Vegas. The marriage didn’t affect the friendship. If anything, it tightened the already formidable bond they shared. Reed is part of their tight-knit trio, having moved to Silver Falls right after their parents were killed. We were all friends in school, but he was always the closest to Jamison and Rayn.
“Hey, Reed,” Rayn says, leaning her ample cleavage on the bar. “Can you get me a vodka and cranberry?”
“Sure thing, sugar.” After Jamison manages to rip his eyes away from the front of Rayn’s shirt, he looks to Reed. “And you?”
“Same,” Jamison replies, appearing like he’s in a pissy mood.
What I find very interesting is the lingering looks Reed gives Jamison when he isn’t looking. I have my suspicions there may be something there. At least on Reed’s end.
Reed catches me looking at him and his eyes narrow. I can practically feel the fuck-off vibes coming from him. My lips twitch but I keep my trap shut. Seems I’m not the only one with problems tonight.
Rayn, who’s currently murdering a bar napkin by ripping it to shreds, offers Reed a distracted smile when he sets her drink down in front of her.
