Psyched (Taboo 101 #2)

by Havana Scott

  I bet he works out every morning. I bet he’s super disciplined, just like he is with his work, his life, the way he dresses, everything. That kind of restraint can only be a good influence on me, but I can’t. I cut the hookup cord between us, and now I’m left with only one option—to fantasize about him.

  Leaning back in bed in my bra and panties, I close the blinds behind me and close my eyes.

  I think about Dr. Lee’s voice, its rich deepness when he talked to me over by the lake, the way he hypnotized me into telling him too much. I think about the way he acts like a man, not a boy-child like Aaron—the way he folds his arms, the way he calmly looks into my eyes and listens while I talk, the way he respects my words and ideas. He came running after me when I fled his office. He didn’t have to. He could’ve let me go, thought to himself, “Silly woman,” like other guys, but he cared about me.

  That’s been enough to cement him in my mind all week, and now that it’s been five days, I’m getting the itch to call him. Too bad I don’t have his phone number. Good—that way I won’t be tempted.

  All that yummy goodness comes wrapped in a gorgeous package, too—bright green eyes, sleekly-styled groomed hair, clean-shaven face (on Monday, anyway), full lips I loved kissing…and what was underneath them was even better. Rippled abs, wide chest, muscled legs when he stood feet apart gazing down at me. And a nice thick cock that sprang out, curved at just the right angle to feed into my mouth.

  Oh, yeah…

  Who knew a psychologist could be so damn fine? I bite my lip and run my hand down the length of my body towards the wetness forming between my legs. And I got to have him, got to taste him, got to look up at him, be submissive and have him shoot his cum all over my tits for one night. For one night, I got lucky.

  Will I ever see him again?

  God, I want to, but God, I can’t.

  I squeeze my breasts and pinch my nipples, coaxing a hard and fast orgasm closer to the surface. What is it about that position, down on my knees, looking up at him that was so damn sexy? I thought I didn’t like guys looking down at me, literally or figuratively. I thought I demanded respect and equality. Wouldn’t I be happier pleasing myself first like most feminists? Like the way Dr. Lee wanted me to do?

  I get where the good intentions come from. But no.

  I love seeing men’s faces when they lose it. Why?

  I love watching them unravel, love seeing them become weak in that one moment that belongs to me. I adore that shift in power. In my mind, I see Dr. Lee clearly—sculpted and beautiful, like a marble Renaissance statue come to life covered in soft, matted hair. Not too thick, just enough to look like a man, but I still see his shiny body glistening with the effort of his buildup.

  Dipping my fingers farther into my slippery pussy, I imagine my fingers are him, his body, sliding into me. What would it be like to have Dr. Lee’s fat juicy cock filling me up inside? Fucking amazing, I bet, but I can’t go back, as much as I want to right now. As much as I wish I could run to his office, find him still there, and beg him to see me again, straddle him right in his chair…but I can’t.

  Because I’m dissociating.

  And for good reason.

  Because I have to graduate with a 4.0 at the end of summer, and I can’t give attention to any other person right now but me. Selfish, yes, but again—for good reason. I can’t get involved. I have to keep this fantasy a fantasy, use what I remember about him to fuel my dreams, because I cannot fuck my therapist, as hot as that would be right now. I cannot swallow his cock again, cannot let him squeeze and suck on my tits, cannot let him slap them or give him the upper hand.

  Holy shit, Dr. Lee with the upper hand.

  Yessssss.

  I’m on fire.

  And I don’t want to stop thinking about him. I’m a freight train with no brakes, a plane jumper with no parachute, and I’m going to come any moment. But first, I want the right image in my mind. I want it to be overwhelmingly good. I want to imagine him fucking me from behind, gripping my hair, pounding me so hard, putting this silly little woman in her place, showing her who’s fucking boss…

  My phone rings. Augh, for shit’s sake!

  Who’s calling? If it’s my mom right now, I swear to God…

  I reach for the phone and stare at the number. Local? Great, there goes my orgasm, and now I need a giant fireman’s hose to come cool me off. Or maybe just the giant fireman. I let the call go to voicemail. Any friends looking for me to come out tonight would have area codes from their hometowns. I hit play on the recording.

  “Alice. It’s me, Roman. Dr. Lee…”

  My heartbeat speeds up just hearing his voice. How did he get my number? Wait, of course he has my number. As much as I hate him for crossing the line and breaking my wish, I could kiss him for it, too. I bite my lip and imagine him here, speaking in my ear, caressing my body. It’s that deep, rich voice I love so much. A man’s voice.

  A man in control.

  “I wanted to check on you, see how you were doing. Call me.”

  6

  ROMAN

  I deliberated for days. Leave her alone, Roman. Let her be, Roman. Give her space, Roman. Respect her wishes, Roman. Fuck, Roman, you’re a weak piece of shit.

  Don’t think I just whipped out my phone, no problem. Even though she’s not officially my patient, she may as well be, because I heard her talk anyway under the guise of friends. Calling her was tough. This week has tested my integrity and professionalism. But once I leave the office, I’m home alone with my thoughts, and every night has ended with seeing her doll face in my mind. Every night, I think about her body, her problems, her face, her voice.

  Why am I thinking so much of a twenty-year-old?

  I wish I knew.

  After hanging at Happy Hour tonight with my buddy, Jacob, who couldn’t stop complaining about his wife, how she never wanted to have sex anymore, how the kids were more important than him, how she used to be so hot and now he’s lucky if he sees her naked, I simmered at home, a prisoner in my own brain. Don’t call her, leave her alone…maybe once. Just as friends.

  I thought she’d answer pissed, reject me right away, and that’d be the end. Instead, she seemed relieved that I’d called, almost desperately happy at the timing. “Thank God you called,” she said. “I’ve had the worst week, Dr. Lee. Just the fucking worst.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked. No mention of sex. Yes, I would love to be with her again, but it’s not so much about that. It’s the whole package. The whole Alice Verano.

  Hesitation crackled over the line. I know it was hard for her, too, but maybe we should explore and see where this goes. It could be nothing, or it could be a strong chemistry dying to be discovered. “Yes,” she said, and I was ready within minutes.

  “What kind of car is this?” she asks now, as though she’s never been in my ride. But I get it—she was too distracted the first time she sat in that same passenger seat. She was texting friends and probably talking herself out of it.

  “Mustang Shelby GT350. Why?”

  Her gaze is focused on the road ahead. She’s had that trance-like look since I picked her up. She’s in sweatpants, T-shirt, no bra, the condition she was in when I called her, I guess. “I want to fuck in it.”

  My fingers curl around the steering wheel. “Alice…”

  As much as I want to fuck her in this car, fuck her so hard, she won’t be able to walk straight for days, I want her to open up to me, too. “Please, don’t say anything,” she says, closing her eyes.

  She’s doing it again. Dissociating. I know she wants to tell me about her week, and I want to hear it, too. I want to be here for her, listen to her gripe, and be a friend. I might be a weak man who doesn’t need much convincing to fuck a gorgeous woman in the car, but I can be more. “Listen,” I tell her, “I didn’t want to see you tonight only for sex. I wanted to talk to you, since we didn’t get to finish our conversation on Monday.”

  “I know,” she says,
“And I will.”

  “You will?”

  “Maybe. But do you mind? Having sex with me? I really need it after this week.” When she looks over at me, there’s glistening in her eyes, tears just brimming. She wipes them away angrily.

  I’m taken aback. She certainly doesn’t waste any time, but there’s a reason why, and I’m compelled to understand the thought process behind it.

  “Would I mind?” I answer. “Alice, you’re a beautiful girl. And you’ve been on my mind the whole week. That’s no easy feat. I see eight to ten patients every day, most of them female. But you…I think about our night together last week constantly. I won’t even tell you how many times I’ve…”

  “You’ve what?”

  “Never mind,” I laugh. “No, I wouldn’t mind. But I’m not sure we should. You’ve told me about your issues. The line is fuzzy now with this patient, doctor, friend thing. My God, it’s enough to make me go crazy.”

  “But I think just once more would be okay, doctor. After this once, then no more. Do you agree?” she asks. It’s funny—she sounds different tonight. She doesn’t sound like the woman I spoke to on Monday. She sounds scared, stressed, and clinging to sex as the solution. I can’t be her solution.

  “Let’s just see,” I say, staring down the dark road. Dark indeed. Am I strong enough to resist her? Why did I ask to see her again then? Why directly put myself in temptation’s way? If I knew more about her, if I felt like we’ve become closer as friends, would it make sex okay?

  “You meant to say you’ve masturbated thinking of me, didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you meant it.” Her head turns my way in my peripheral vision. “Tell me. I want to know. How often do you do that?”

  “What? Masturbate? Jesus, Alice.”

  “Tell me. I have no clue what’s normal, doctor. Once a week? Five times a day? Because for me, it’s almost every day…” Her voice has taken on a huskier tone, and hearing her say she masturbates almost daily has just turned my cock to stone. The road is getting darker, and I’m so, so far from home.

  I sigh heavily. “This week, it’s been every day, too. Sometimes, twice a day.” I chance a glance at her. She’s biting her bottom lip. “But only because of you. For some reason, you have this power over me, and holy shit, I shouldn’t even be telling you that.”

  I reach out to swipe my thumb across her cheek, but she grabs it and holds it to her mouth desperately. Shit, I’m going to lose control of this situation quickly, but I knew it before I left the house. I knew it would come to this. “I love when you tell me that. What do you think about, doctor? When you’re thinking about me?”

  “That you have amazing lips…” I run my thumb across her full lower lip. She closes her eyes and opens her mouth, feeling my touch. I’m growing harder by the minute. I’m descending into Hell, and ask me if I care anymore. “And the way you took in my cock when I looked down at you, topless…” Topless and hungry. “It’s not something a guy forgets easily.”

  “I haven’t forgotten it either. I was thinking exactly that when you called me.”

  So that explains her tone when I called. Was she touching herself then? God, how fucking sexy. I hate myself for wanting her so much. Her sapphire eyes are lustful, on blue fire. I feel like a dick taking advantage of such a young woman, especially one who’s so horny and going through so much shit right now, but I want her. I want her so bad, it’s making me crazy.

  Maybe I’m meant to be a bad guy. Maybe Bridget had a right to believe I’d cheat on her one day, even though I never did nor thought of doing so. Maybe she recognized my susceptibility around college women and never believed I could change. Improve. Mature. I’ve been doing great all these years. I’ve been staying away from all temptation.

  But then came Alice. I’m only made of meat and bones.

  “Where are you taking me?” She holds my hand, pressing it to her chest. I can feel her heart pounding through the fabric.

  “Where do you want to go?” My townhouse would be fine again, but I know she wants to play in the car. I want to play in the car, too. I hook a right, cornering as though on rails and speeding through the curved streets until we rise through the hills and reach the plateau overlooking Sedona.

  The desert town is far enough from the college, remote enough to fulfill her wishes and not make me feel like we’re going to get a flashlight shining through our window. I pull into a gravelly area and shut off the car, getting out to open her door.

  “What are you doing?” she asks.

  I give her my hand. “Taking you outside, so you can see the view. It’s amazing.”

  I see turmoil churning in her mind. Did she think we’d get right to it? I want her to see how beautiful it is out here with streaks of sunlight still painting the sky. Yes, getting out and watching the view is romantic and not on her approved list of activities. Yes, giving me her hand and gazing at the stars might bring us closer.

  “Dr. Lee, I don’t want to—” Fear shines in her eyes.

  “I want a long-ass kiss from you, Blondie, otherwise no deal. Trust me.” I insist, smiling and giving her my hand again.

  Slowly, her hand slips into mine—warm and soft and vulnerable—and she steps out of the car, taking in the view. She releases a long-held sigh. The evening is chilly, and at this altitude, there’s no buzzing of bugs. I reel Alice close to me, turning her so she’s facing the city, leaning with her back against me.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asks. Instinctively, one of her hands slips back around my neck, pushing out her tits, but I hold back from fondling the hell out of her, as much as I’m dying to.

  “Even exchange, Blondie,” I speak next to her ear, “You want mindless sex, and I want to know you better. We took things quickly last week, and now we slow down just a little.”

  “You’re good at what you do, doctor,” she says breathlessly, leaning back onto my stiff cock. As much as it pains me to hear her call me “doctor,” I love it. It’s wrong, but it’s right, and it drives me nuts and will satisfy this fantasy outside the office.

  I pull back her hair and draw in one of her earlobes, running my tongue along the soft curve. She’s got the lightest of tiny baby fuzz there, something I never would’ve seen had we gone straight to fucking in the car. “I want you to listen and not be afraid, Blondie. I want you to trust me.”

  “I am afraid…”

  “It’s refreshing to hear you admit that, but I’m going to take care of you. Mentally, physically… If you open your mind to me, I’ll reward you. Understand?”

  “Yes.” Her ass writhes against me, a cat in heat, a perfect, beautiful young woman who’s trusting me with her body and mind. I will not let her down. My job is to help and guide her, and whether I do that as a doctor or as her lover, the result is one and the same in the end. “Aren’t you afraid, doctor?”

  “Like a little kid, Blondie.” I hold her waist and rest my chin on her shoulder, feeling her every breath rise and fall. “But you told me things on Monday that were personal. Now, listen to me, and you’ll see that you’re not alone. I was married once…”

  I feel her body still.

  “I’m not anymore. I’m not, Alice. It’s been three years, but listen…I failed her. I failed my ex. I couldn’t be there for her. I worked too hard, and by the end of the day, I’d used up all my energy listening to patients, and there was nothing left for her.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” She pulls away, but I hold onto her loosely.

  “You asked me if I’m afraid. I’m scared as shit, Blondie. I don’t have a fucking clue what we’re doing. All I know is that I’m drawn to you like I’ve never been to anyone, and I’m terrified I’m going to fail you, too.”

  She shakes her head. “But it’s too much, doctor. Please, I can’t know anymore about you. Not now…not unless you want me to pull away.”

  “I don’t want you to pull away,” I tell her. “And because you’ve listened
to me, now I reward you.” She could’ve run screaming from the intimacy, but she listened. I run my hands along her stomach, slipping one hand underneath to feel the heat of her smooth skin, lifting until I reach the heavy slope of her breast. I cup my hand around it and lift, squeezing softly. She moans low and long, and I squeeze a little harder.

  “I’m scared I’m going to want this every day, doctor,” she whispers through her groan, arching her back into my hands, covering my hands with her own. “I’m scared of losing control and not being able to give you the friendship you want either.”

  “Me, too, Blondie. Though I can handle being friends, I don’t think I can ever offer you more than this. It’s only fair you know that now. I’m laying it all out on the table.”

  “I understand,” she says, and just like that, the expectations have been set. They sadden me, how unlikely I am to make her or any woman happy. But in other ways, it’s a perfect match, because she doesn’t want more from me either.

  She swivels around to face me and slithers her hands around my neck. “We’re the same then. You use me, and I use you. I know how that must make me look, Dr. Lee, but I’m just being honest.”

  “It doesn’t make you look anything other than direct, Blondie.”

  Her smile has a hint of sadness to it, and I’m surprised by my sudden determination to make it go away. If she’s had a stressful week, then my job is to de-stress her. “About the car now…” She bites that bottom lip again.

  “About that kiss…” I don’t wait for her reply. I scoop her face into my hands and draw her into me, tasting and devouring her mouth, her sweet and unique flavor, relishing that she’s mine. After a week of inner turmoil and torturous arguments with myself, she’s mine, and I’m going to enjoy the fuck out of her. We kiss for the longest time, and each instance where I feel her pulling away, I draw her back in for more. She loosens up when we kiss for a long time. I feel it in her arms and legs, the way her lungs collapse, the way she relinquishes power.

  She said it herself—that’s what she’s scared of.

  I pull away to catch our breaths and drop kisses along her jawline and neck, each one growing with intensity until I’m biting the delicate skin at the nape underneath her hair. There’s a sweetness there I can’t describe, except that it’s her own scent, and it’s calling to me.