by Shelly Bell
When her body shook and arched in climax, he couldn’t restrain himself any longer. On the razor’s edge of control, he tossed the flogger onto the floor and climbed onto the mattress, perching himself above her. He shoved his jeans and underwear down to mid-thigh. His cock sprang from its confinement, the head of it already soaked with pre-cum. “My turn, baby.”
Sleepy eyes watched him as he gripped the base of his cock and stroked himself from root to tip. His need to come went beyond the physical.
He needed to brand her with a part of himself.
“Don’t forget that it was my hand wrapped around that flogger,” he reminded her. “Who made your pretty pussy ache, Dreama?”
Her gaze sharpened. “You.”
Fire licked at his balls as he moved his hand faster and faster. “And who took that ache away? Who made you feel good?”
“You.” She smiled. “Cash.”
His name on her lips was all it took for heat to shoot down his spine, then up the length of his cock. Spurts of come splashed across her flushed breasts, marking her as his.
She just didn’t know it yet.
NINETEEN
Ten minutes early, Dreama shook the snow out of her hair before walking into India’s waiting room. Just as she’d assumed, India had been booked solid for the entire month, but when Dreama had explained Cash’s unusual situation, India had agreed to stay late to see him tonight.
That morning, she’d opened her eyes and found Cash still asleep beside her. Even with a comforter and pillows between them, she felt the warmth permeating from his body. It was the first time she’d woken up with a man in her bed. She’d broken one of her rules, but for some reason, it didn’t bother her.
The more time she spent with him, the harder it became to see him as her parolee. She couldn’t allow herself to forget that what they were doing within the four walls of her apartment was ethically wrong. But why did it feel so right?
Tonight, she’d have to remember to act completely professionally around him. Although India wouldn’t report her to Meg, Dreama didn’t want to put her in an uncomfortable position. It wasn’t common for a parole officer to attend therapy with a parolee.
It was Dreama’s first time seeing India in her actual office. All of her previous sessions had been in the hospital and rehabilitation center. She was supposed to have set up an appointment upon her release from rehab, but she’d never called, making excuse after excuse to herself as to why. There wasn’t enough time. Therapy couldn’t help. It was better to focus on the future than the past.
The truth was she’d been scared. Talking to a therapist accessed painful memories and forced her not only to confront them head-on, but also to find solutions to deal with them. Although she was a trained social worker, the whole process had overwhelmed her. Rather than face it, she’d made justifications as to why she didn’t require therapy, but thanks to Cash, she had begun to reconsider. After all, if she was willing to risk her career to prove his innocence, shouldn’t she be willing to risk as much for herself? Maybe she’d make an appointment for herself soon.
Dreama sat on the couch as she waited for Cash to arrive. She’d left him a voice mail earlier today letting him know she’d made the appointment and he’d texted her later that he’d gotten it. What if he changed his mind and wasn’t coming? Last night, he’d seemed open to trying hypnosis, but she’d understand if he was too scared to face his past. If anyone understood, it was Dreama.
She couldn’t believe how far she’d come in only two nights of Cash’s domination. Watching him lick her climax off the flogger’s strands was one of the hottest things she’d ever seen in her life, second only to watching Cash stroking himself off. The moment his tongue lavished its attention on the leather was the same moment her desire to touch him eclipsed her fear. She’d been this close to begging him to fuck her when he’d fisted his cock and gave her the show instead. Just thinking of his hot cum splashing on her breasts made her grow wet between her legs.
She was practically squirming in her spot as a snow-covered Cash stomped inside the waiting room, bringing with him some appreciated cold air. “Sorry I’m late. It took me an extra twenty minutes to get here because of the weather.” He unwrapped the cable-knit black scarf from around his neck and unzipped his coat.
“No problem,” she said a little breathlessly, thanks to her arousal.
The intensity of his gaze pinned her in place. It took her back to last night when she’d sworn he’d been thinking of kissing her. And she had to wonder, if she didn’t have the phobia, would she risk kissing him here in public, where anyone could witness it? How much was she willing to gamble when it came to Cash Turner?
Luckily, Dreama didn’t have long to think about her answer before India’s door opened.
“Dreama,” India said, grabbing both her hands and squeezing them. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”
She gave India a sincere smile. “You too.”
Although she was in her thirties, India could easily be mistaken for a flower child from the seventies. Despite the freezing temperature outside, she had on a flowy turquoise skirt, a sunflower-yellow off-the-shoulder blouse, and Birkenstocks. Like the previous times Dreama had seen her, India wore her black hair in a long braid down her back, no makeup, and dangling beaded earrings.
India released her hands and turned her attention to Cash. “And you must be Mr. Turner. Please, come inside.”
Bathed in soft lighting, her office was an explosion of reds and golds and greens. Sparkly throw pillows enhanced the otherwise plain hunter-green couch, colorful blown-glass figurines lined the back of her desk, and in the corner of the room by the bookshelves sat a bongo. Among the photographs on the walls were ones of India riding a camel in the desert, hanging off a mountain, and skydiving with her arms outstretched. It looked as though she’d lived a million adventures in her lifetime.
Dreama was a bit envious. Other than visiting extended family in a handful of nearby states, she’d never traveled anywhere. Then again, she preferred to be suspended in ropes over jumping out of an airplane. Before her attack, she’d taken plenty of risks and enjoyed life to the fullest without ever leaving the state.
“Have a seat.” India settled onto a love seat and Cash and Dreama sat on the couch across from her. They made some small talk while Cash filled out a few forms. After, India said, “I understand you’re trying to regain the memories of a particular night. You were in a car accident?”
Cash tapped his thigh with his fingers. “Yes.”
Dreama could tell Cash was nervous, and once again, she wished she could console him physically.
“Did the hospital mention a concussion or do a CT scan or MRI of your brain to determine if there was a brain injury?” India asked.
“Yeah, my doctor said I had gotten a grade three concussion from the accident,” Cash said. “I had a CT scan, but they didn’t find any swelling or any other abnormalities. I was told that my memory loss was probably the result of the concussion and that it was possible I’d never get it back.”
India nodded. “The brain is an amazing thing. Your doctor didn’t lie. A concussion or other head injury can cause permanent memory disruption, but there are several other reasons as well. Drugs and heavy alcohol consumption of course can trigger blackouts and memory loss. And then there are times a trauma can be so overwhelming, our minds reject the information. Until we come to terms with the traumatic event, we cannot remember. It’s a way for our brains to protect us from something too painful to accept.”
Cash stopped tapping. “But otherwise, it is possible I could recover the memories?”
“Yes, it’s possible, but there are no guarantees,” India said, crossing her ankles. “It’s been eight years since the accident?”
“Yes.”
India briefly pressed her lips together. “Normally, I would prefer to use psychotherapy to slowly recover the memories and determine if there’s an emotional, psychological, or even psychiatr
ic component to the amnesia. But if you’d like, I can try hypnosis with you.”
“Does hypnosis really work?” Cash asked, doubt evident in his tone.
“It does. In addition to having my doctorate in psychology, I’m an experienced certified hypnotherapist.” India smiled reassuringly. “I promise you, I won’t make you bark like a dog. In fact, I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. You remain in control the entire time.”
Dreama knew next to nothing about hypnosis. “How does it work exactly?”
“All hypnosis does is put you into an altered state of consciousness,” India explained. “Some people think of it as that place between wakefulness and sleep, but I’ve always thought of it as tuning in to our internal voice. Have you ever been so deep in thought that you didn’t hear someone speaking to you?” she asked Cash. On his nod, she continued. “That was you focusing on your internal voice. It’s my role as your hypnotherapist to guide you to that place. If the memories are still accessible, that’s where you’ll find them.”
Cash leaned forward. “I want to try it. Now.”
India gave him a nod, then looked at her. “Dreama, you should probably wait in—”
“No,” Cash said forcefully. “I’d prefer her to stay.”
His words filled Dreama with warmth. It meant that he trusted her. Looking at India, she silently pleaded to stay.
“Fine,” India said. “If you believe it will help you relax to have her here.”
“It will.”
India turned off the lamp beside her. “Then let’s get started.”
Cash couldn’t believe he’d consented to allowing a stranger to hypnotize him. Before tonight, he didn’t even believe in it. Hell, he still didn’t believe it could be done. After he’d gotten Dreama’s message earlier, he’d almost called to cancel. But then he’d remembered how excited she’d been when he’d agreed. Since the day he’d met her, she’d proven her bravery to him over and over again, first by soldiering through the pain of her physical scars and next by working with him to conquer her emotional ones. By refusing to give up on him, she was risking her career and, more importantly, her life. He couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing her.
So, despite his reluctance and his doubts, he was here. If there was even the slightest possibility of hypnosis working, he owed it to himself…and Dreama…and hell, even to Maddie, to give it a shot.
The sound of waves crashing against the surf played softly as India dimmed the overhead lights. “Close your eyes,” she said quietly.
Just having Dreama beside him eased his apprehension. For a man who thrived on control, turning his power over to a hypnotherapist wasn’t easy for him. He might not trust India—after all, he didn’t know her—but he did trust Dreama. He took one final glance at Dreama before shutting his eyes.
India’s soft, soothing voice rolled over him. “I want you to breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.”
He followed her instructions and relaxed against the couch, feeling all the tension leaving his body as he inhaled and exhaled in a rhythm that matched the ebb and flow of the ocean’s waves.
“Good,” she said, her words sounding as if they were floating around him. “Now I want you to picture yourself at the top of a staircase. I’m going to count backward from ten to one. Each number, you will move down another step, relaxing your body and taking another breath in through your nose until you reach the bottom step.”
Within the darkness, a lit wooden staircase appeared directly in front of him, each stair covered with carpet as white as freshly fallen snow. Looking at the bottom, all he could see was the glow of a brilliant orange light. Step by step, he descended the staircase, his bare feet cushioned by the plush carpet. The light seemed to be talking to him, but he couldn’t understand what it was saying. As he approached it, a single word became louder and louder. Cash. The light was calling out to him, inviting him to enter it. At the end of the staircase, he walked into the warmth and comfort of the light and waited.
“Very good,” India said. Her voice sounded as if it were coming from miles away. “Cash, I’m going to ask you to talk about a night from long ago. It’s the night you went to the zoo for a party. Do you remember that night?”
“Yes,” he said automatically.
“Good. Tell me about getting ready for the event.”
Suddenly, the light disappeared and he was standing in front of the mirror of his old apartment bedroom, dressed in his rented tuxedo. If they didn’t leave soon, they’d be late. “I hate this tuxedo. I’ve been in it for five minutes and I’m already sweating.”
“What else do you remember?” India asked.
Behind him, the details of his bedroom became clearer. Dressed in a light blue gown, Maddie was sitting at the edge of their unmade bed, tears streaming down her face.
He’d done that to her. He hadn’t meant to tell her tonight, but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. So, when she’d asked him if he loved her, he’d finally told her the truth.
“No. I don’t love you,” he’d said. “I never have. Our marriage was a mistake. I want a divorce.”
“Maddie…She’s crying.” What he’d thought would be his salvation had turned into one of his biggest regrets. The shame of it continued to haunt him to this day. He’d wanted to be free of her, and he’d gotten his wish. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You don’t have to,” India said gently. “What did you do after you were ready?”
Maddie’s makeup was fixed and she was smiling. He knew then she would never let him go. She’d find a way to keep him by her side. She always did.
“We left for the zoo,” he told India. “I just wanted to get it over with.”
“What over with?”
“The night. Everything.” Maddie’s incessant chattering about their future. She wanted to paint Joshua’s room. They needed to buy a crib. Cash should drop out of college and work for Thomas full-time so that they could afford a house. She was pretending he hadn’t asked for a divorce. “I put on the radio.” To get Maddie to stop talking. It worked. “We’re at the zoo.” He parked in the lot by the main entrance.
“What do you see?” India asked.
“A huge white tent filled with people. There’s a band playing soft jazz on a stage at the front of the tent. Waiters carrying glasses of champagne. There’s a bar in a corner with a long line.” Thomas spared no expense for the party. Maddie was in heaven. Cash would rather celebrate with a cold beer at the bowling alley. This wasn’t his scene. “I don’t really know anyone. I need to congratulate Thomas.” And to get away from Maddie. She wouldn’t let go of his arm.
India’s voice cut through the noise of the party. “Do you find him?”
The images flash in and out. He’s no longer in the tuxedo. Now he’s outside his own body, watching it all like a movie. “I leave Maddie with some woman she knows from yoga class and go look for him. Michael from work tells me Thomas is getting ready to give his speech and is behind the stage.”
“What do you do then?”
There’s a wall of white in front of him. He doesn’t see anything anymore. “I don’t remember.”
“Do you stay with Michael? Go back to Maddie?” India asked.
At the mention of Maddie’s name, the wall of white parts in the middle. “I go behind the tent to find Thomas.” He sees himself walking around the perimeter of the tent, but he stops when he hears some conversation coming from around the corner. “There are two men talking. I don’t let them see me, but I listen. I don’t like what I’m hearing.”
The Cash he’s watching has clenched fists and a pounding heart. He’s angry.
“Who are the men?” India asked.
His own heart began to race. “I don’t know.”
“Pretend you have a pair of binoculars and you can see closer,” India directed. “Can you make out their faces?”
“No.” Not if he wants to keep his hiding spot. If he moves closer, th
ey’ll see him. “It’s too dark.”
“What about their voices? Are they familiar?” India asked.
He listened closer. “One is familiar. The other is new.”
“Do you know whose voice it is? What are they saying?”
A red and black danger sign popped up in front of his face and the music playing inside the tent drowned out the two voices of the men. But he’d heard enough to know it wasn’t right. He had to warn Thomas. “No, I don’t…I don’t remember.”
“What happened after you heard them talking?”
The space around him turned black. He didn’t even see tuxedo Cash anymore. “It’s all blank. I don’t want to remember it.”
“Why?” India asked.
He tried to push away the darkness in his mind and see through it. His heart was beating too fast and the warmth of the orange light was gone. He felt as if he were encased in ice. He had to leave. He had to tell someone. “It hurts too much. I don’t want to stay here.”
“You see the staircase? It’s right in front of you, but before you leave, do you remember drinking champagne?” India asked.
His throat was dry. He thought back to all he’d seen. “No.”
Cash followed the sound of India’s voice up the steps until he reached the top. Feeling the couch underneath his fingertips, he opened his eyes.
To some degree, the hypnosis had worked. He couldn’t believe how easily India had gotten him to remember bits and pieces of that night. It felt as if he’d actually traveled back in time. But at the same time, he was disappointed. As skeptical as he’d been about hypnosis, he’d hoped he’d remember everything leading up to the accident.
He ran his hand down his face and realized he was sweating. “That was a bust.”
“Not really,” Dreama said, angling toward him on the couch. “You remembered more than you did before hypnosis.”
