He was struggling with something. He was looking at me strangely. Maybe he wanted to admit what his true thoughts were from the previous day, but he wasn’t ready. I wanted to find out but wouldn’t push him.
“Did something happen yesterday, Johnny?”
“If you’re askin’ if I stole something, then the answer is no.”
“That is not what I am asking at all.”
He hesitated and shrugged, “Yeah. Maybe. I was alone. It’s no big deal. It’s not like… It’s no big deal.”
“Well, it’s still on your mind, so it must hold some sort of significance-”
“Look, things stop mattering to a person at a certain point, alright? They just do. Shit, it happens. And when enough shit gets dumped on one person, then other shit just stops mattering. So it’s nothing. Just… Fuck. It’s nothing.”
“Too much fell on your shoulders? The burden became too heavy?”
“You can’t just say I went through so much shit since before I was even an adult? You always have to talk so uppity? Right. Of course, you do.”
“Johnny, it is not-”
He waved me away dismissively, “I told you that shit stops mattering.”
“When was your breaking point?”
“That was so long ago. Like a decade ago. A decade too late to ask that question.”
“Johnny,” I said quietly.
“Enough shit happens to a person and things just have to stop mattering. You don’t get it. You won’t ever. But when you’re just a kid and you’re on the street and you really have nowhere to fucking go, other stupid shit just doesn’t fuckin’ matter.”
I wrote a note on the blank page of his file, trying my very best not to let my hand shake. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. The idea that I had contributed to how his life turned out made me sick. I couldn’t get the image of him on my doorstep, looking defeated and battered, out of my head. A part of me wanted to believe that moment wasn’t his breaking point, but I knew better.
“What happened, Johnny? What happened and what did you do after that?”
“I told you. I was just a kid on the fucking street. It was like that for a couple weeks. It was rough. It was shitty but, you know, I had to leave… I had no choice.”
“No choice at all?”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I wished more than anything I could take them back. Johnny’s stare pierced straight through my heart. The look was accusatory and anguished.
“No, I didn’t have a fucking choice. I got kicked out, you know? Yeah,” he muttered.
I cleared my throat, “What did you do after that?”
“Well, there was nobody to help me. I was alone. Fucking alone with nobody to have my back. Nobody fucking cared, so I was on the streets for a couple weeks.”
I felt like I had just been punched in the gut. I knew he was talking about me. I wanted to defend myself and tell him I hadn’t had a choice in the matter, but that would have crossed so many lines I couldn’t even keep them straight. I also knew now, as an adult, that I still could have handled the situation differently. I felt like a coward. When it came to my parents, that’s how it was.
“You were homeless for a couple of weeks. What happened that solved that problem?”
Johnny shot me a look and scoffed, “The problem wasn’t fucking solved. Why the fuck do you even think I’m sitting in this damn stupid chair now?”
“Johnny, I’m merely trying to understand-”
“Understand? You want to understand? That’s not gonna fucking happen.”
He waved his hand in the air dismissively and pointedly looked away from me. I wrote down a few notes. I had to focus on what he was saying. I had to think of the implications from the perspective of his therapist, and not from his high school sweetheart who had some kind of role in all this. I wondered, once again, if maybe it would be best to pass him on to another therapist. I wanted to help him. I even felt responsible for doing so, but this was a lot more complicated than I could have ever imagined. I set my pen down and looked back up at him.
“Very well,” I finally said calmly, “Perhaps I will not be able to fully understand, but I do want to learn, Johnny. I hope you can tell me what it is that happened.”
“You’re so damn eager, huh? Fine. I knew a guy and his older brother took me in. It wasn’t pity or anything like that, even though it felt like it back then.”
“That’s good.”
“Good? It’s good that it felt like pity, but it wasn’t?”
“No. It’s good that you’ve reflected on a past situation and reassessed it,” I clarified.
“And what the hell is the point of that? It doesn’t fucking change the shit that’s happened. I still wound up helping that guy ‘work’ and I didn’t have any other options, so it didn’t matter that I was pretty much just doing the dirty work. I was the one who took the fall when it came down to it. But I needed somewhere to live, and I needed food.”
“What kind of work did you do with him?”
“It wasn’t drugs if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I’m not making any assumptions, that is why I am asking you what it is that you did.”
“I was dealing stolen car parts.”
“Did you ever steal a car for him?”
Johnny rhythmically tapped his fingers on his leg for a long time before nodding, “Eventually, yeah, I did start helping him steal the cars.”
“Did he give you more money for that?”
“Yeah, but not enough. Didn’t matter at the time, though. The situation I was in… It just didn’t fucking matter. I told you. Enough shit gets dumped on a person and that’s it.”
“Johnny, I can see how difficult it was for you and still is. It’s not too late to start rebuilding-”
“Isn’t time up?” Johnny asked abruptly with a nod toward the clock.
Chapter Twelve
Jenny
It was the last few minutes of our session, but I could tell that Johnny was done. I also knew it wasn’t the time to talk to him about a future life that wouldn’t look anything like his past. I wrote a note on my paper, set my pen down, and looked straight in to his eyes with a softer expression than I usually had.
“I’m very proud of how you handled today’s session.”
“Right,” he said with a shrug.
I knew he was trying to keep his strong, badass façade. It had been an especially vulnerable sessions for him and I doubted he thought that would happen when he first walked into my office.
“I am,” I said gently, “You made great progress.”
“Is that what you wrote in your little file there?”
I cracked a small smile, “That is one thing I wrote. You really did make great progress in here today.”
Johnny smirked and stood up, towering over me and my desk. My pulse quickened as I glanced over at the clock. I was about say it wasn’t quite time to leave when he started to move slowly around to the side of my desk. I felt my breath escape me. I didn’t know what to say or do. He leaned against the desk and stared deep in to my eyes, making my pulse quicken even more.
“Doctors usually give a treat to their patients when they’re good,” Johnny said, smirk in place and voice heavy with innuendo.
I could feel my cheeks turn bright red. The back of my neck grew hot and that heat spread over every inch of my skin. I couldn’t believe this was real. Johnny had been forward and vulgar in every one of our meetings, but this was entirely different. The bigger problem, however, was that I didn’t have the wall of professional distance up between us the way I did with all of my other clients.
“That- that is usually in pediatrics and this is, high- highly-”
“Inappropriate? Aw, come on, you told me you were proud. You said I made a lot of progress. Shouldn’t I get a cookie or something for that? I was a good boy today.”
I wanted to emphasize that he had been a “good boy” up until he started saying these things while he wa
s too close to me. I wanted to tell him to step back and make sure he understood he couldn’t continue with this sort of inappropriate behavior. But, at my very core, there was a part of me that didn’t want to stop him.
“Well, then, maybe next session I’ll have a treat ready for you. What is your favorite?”
Johnny chuckled and brazenly lowered his gaze to my chest. He reached out and turned my chair so that I faced him, causing me to gasp in surprise. His eyes raked up and down my body, slowly taking in every inch of my physical appearance. I saw his dark eyes glaze over and I knew, right that second, that he was no longer just playing a game. My heart started to race. My pulse thundered in my ears. I didn’t want to think about the fact that I wasn’t pushing him away or trying to stop him. I couldn’t focus on that because the shame of it would make me feel like I was drowning.
He placed his hand against my chair, right by my head, and leaned in. I braced myself. I thought he was going to kiss me but, instead, he looked down at my skirt.
“There’s only one kind of cookie that’s my favorite and it’s the only one I want to eat,” he responded crassly.
I knew what the right thing to do was. I had every reason to put an end to his behavior. It was wrong on every level and this was something that would easily be considered a reportable offense.
I knew all those things and yet… I uncrossed my legs.
At first, I held my knees together. But as I kept looking in to his eyes and the hot feeling crept under my skin, I parted my thighs a little more. I leaned back and took deep, heavy breaths. I couldn’t believe this was what I was doing instead of having him removed. I couldn’t believe I was really in this situation and I was allowing it to go this far—I wanted more. At my very core, I felt the burn of desire and I couldn’t just ignore it. I felt powerless; like I was under a spell.
He placed his hand on my knee and my entire body shuddered. His palm brushed slowly up the smooth skin of my thigh. His hands were rough from years of work and prison. I parted my legs a bit more until I felt his knuckles brush against the center of my panties. I let out a quiet moan. I’d been with men before, of course, but they never elicited such strong feelings from me. My pulse thundered so chaotically in my ears I thought my head might burst open.
“Now who’s making good progress,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
I whimpered when he pressed the palm of his hand against me. He leaned in until I could feel his hot breath on my cheek and neck. Slowly, he moved my panties to the side and rubbed me with his hand. I panted and pushed my head back against the chair. He started grazing me with his fingers. He moved them up and down and in circles, teasing me. I gripped the armrests so hard my knuckles turned white. I opened my legs wider as a way of practically begging him to please me. And he did.
His fingers eased inside of me, working me in to such intense pleasure that I had to slam my hand over my mouth to keep quiet. I had wanted to restrain myself, but it was impossible.
“I really am getting progress done in here,” he whispered in my ear.
I had to stifle a moan and a laugh. Even when he was doing this, even when he was getting what he wanted, he was vulgar. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why I found it so immensely attractive. It was Johnny I was attracted to. Despite how closed off he was, how rough of a life he’d had, and how crass he could be, he had an undeniable charm.
He leaned in so close I could almost feel his lips graze mine, but still, he didn’t kiss me. I looked in to his eyes and groaned as he continued to work me with his fingers. Just when I felt I was about to climax, he slipped out of me. I whimpered. My chest heaved with every single breath I took.
He looked me up and down before kneeling in front of me. I had an idea of where he was heading with this, but I didn’t want to think about it. I just wanted it to let it continue because it felt so damn good and he’d already gotten me right to the edge. He lifted me off the chair just enough to push my skirt up around my waist. My breath was rapid and sporadic. I threw an arm back behind my head while I continued to claw the armrest with the other. Johnny slowly moved between my thighs. The scruff on his face rubbed against my smooth skin and I shuddered again.
Then I felt his hot breath land right on my center. I held my body tight, trying my best to show some restraint. All my body wanted to do was writhe and melt in to him. My hips wanted to lift as if they had a mind of their own. I shook as I waited. He knew he was driving me crazy by just breathing on me, teasing me again. I bit my lower lip and let out a whimper. I wanted to tell him to keep going, but I didn’t want to say a word. At the very least, I had that much self-control.
But the moment I finally felt his lips press against me, every ounce of self-control I had disappeared right along with the world around me.
I moaned without bothering to cover my mouth. I pressed my hips up when I felt his tongue slide inside of me. I trembled in the chair every time a new wave of pleasure washed over me. Every inch of my body felt desperately hot. I couldn’t remember ever feeling this way. He knew what he was doing. He knew how to work me up quickly. It wasn’t long before I turned in to a shaking mess as an orgasm took hold of me. But that didn’t stop him from continuing to taste me.
I felt his lips, his tongue, and his scruff. He kept going until I was a twisting, moaning mess of a person reaching a second orgasm right there in my office. At that moment, it didn’t matter where I was or who was pleasuring me. All those worried thoughts melted away.
When he finally pulled back and stood up, I had calmed my breathing enough to sit up and look at him. The weight of what had just happened started to settle on my shoulders.
But before I could say anything, he gave me a satisfied smirk and walked straight out of my office.
Chapter Thirteen
Jenny
As soon as I finished up with my last client, I locked everything up and went straight to my condo. That was yet another way I was starting to feel guilty– I hadn’t been staying late to work on paperwork for my patients. There was only one client that was on my mind and that was Johnny. Of course, he wasn’t in my thoughts as a patient.
No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Even at the office, during my sessions with the three clients I saw after him, my thoughts continued to wander. Even as I walked home in the hopes of clearing my mind, I kept remembering the way he looked at me. I couldn’t stop replaying the way he walked to the side of my desk or the way he swiveled my chair to face him. I vividly recalled the way his rough skin and the scruff on his face felt against my smooth legs. And I couldn’t get the sound of his voice out of my head.
It was excruciating. I wanted to get rid of all those thoughts. I wanted to go back to feeling professional, but he made that completely impossible.
I walked into the coffee shop down the street from my condo and stood at the back of the line. The scent of freshly brewed coffee tickled the back of my nose. Then I started thinking about how much blame I deserved for the situation I found myself in. I pulled off my hair tie and ran my fingers through my full, dark brown hair. I saw a couple sitting at a table. They looked incredibly happy just to be sharing a cup of coffee together. I wondered if they ever had sex at work. Probably not, that’s what degenerate people do. A strange sensation came over me and I bolted from the coffee shop. My fast pace didn’t stop until I made it to my front door.
I practically collapsed on my couch and replayed that afternoon with Johnny. I felt my skin grow warm again. I felt excitement. I couldn’t ignore the moisture and heat between my thighs. I curled my hand in to a fist and whimpered as I shut my eyes. I thought of the happy couple in the coffee house and the way Johnny looked at me. That was the moment I started to think that maybe, just maybe, it could work between the two of us.
We missed our shot in the past, but now he was back in my life. What did it matter how it ended up that way? Couldn’t this possibly be a sign that I should give him a chance?
I sat up. I th
ought of how I had lived my entire life. I thought of the couple of boyfriends I had. The relationships were fleeting and never developed in to anything serious because my career and making my parents proud always came first. Now I had my own practice and Johnny was back in my life. Didn’t I deserve to be happy? If I thought about it, he was just a regular guy. He wasn’t bad. He had faced rough, almost impossible circumstances and found a way to get through them. Unfortunately, they involved breaking the law, but it wasn’t like he was some kind of murderer. He was just a guy who had a terrible and abusive childhood that needed to make it on his own from a young age. And now he was in therapy. Even if it was court mandated he had demonstrated in our latest session that he could open up. There was potential to make real progress with him.
If I could just get him to see that, even think it, then I could pass his case to another therapist. That way he was still fulfilling the rules of his probation, making progress, and I wouldn’t be breaking any rules. I just needed to take care of business and I could pursue a real relationship with him.
Breaking All the Rules Page 8
