Take Me There

by M. C. Decker

  “You’re so delusional. He was looking at both of us,” I laughed, nervously.

  “As much as I wish Dr. Sex swung for my team, he didn’t so much as glance at my junk. He was far too busy ogling your goodies,” Brad said, pointing toward my formfitting sweater.

  Sighing, I pulled my arms around my midriff suddenly wishing I’d worn a baggier shirt.

  “Would you stop it. You look gorgeous. You know how much I hate those baggy sweaters of yours anyway,” Brad said, reading my mind. “If it was up to me, I’d go to your house right now and burn every last one of them.”

  “I can’t even with you right now,” I chuckled. “Besides, I think I’ve left my clients alone long enough, I should probably get in there. Especially since I evidently have a date with Carson Foster in less than an hour.”

  “Yeah, you do! Get it, girl,” Brad joked.

  “Oh my god,” I said, rolling my eyes before turning to walk away.

  “Hey, Ash. How much do you love me?”

  “A lot. Why?” I said, knowing he’d been hiding something from me.

  “I may have forgotten to mention it, but there are a tall hazelnut mocha and cranberry orange muffin with your name on it in the nurse’s lounge.”

  “Oh my god. You’re the best friend in the whole wide world,” I said. “Why didn’t you lead with that though?”

  “Well it was more fun watching you squirm and then Dr. Foster showed up and my brain went to mush with all that sexiness in the room,” he laughed.

  “You really are ridiculous,” I laughed, sprinting off to the nurses’ station to grab my fuel.

  Knowing I wouldn’t be able to focus on my clients, I rescheduled their appointment feigning an emergency within the department. After all, it really wasn’t a lie. Just thinking about spending time alone with Dr. Foster left my palms sweaty and my heart racing. This definitely qualified as an emergency.

  With more than fifteen minutes to spare before our scheduled coffee meeting, I made my way down to the cafeteria. I was surprised to see Carson already standing by the counter with two cups of coffee in hand.

  Standing in the doorway, I noticed him chatting with the cafeteria worker. Her eyes lit up and her smile widened with each word he spoke. Looks like Dr. Foster was a ladies’ man. Unable to look away, I continued to watch from afar as they continued their mutual flirting. A new feeling crept up inside me, one which I could only explain as jealousy. I just couldn’t make any sense of it. I didn’t even know this man, and yet he was making me feel things that I hadn’t felt in decades. Things that I’d avoided feeling all this time–even with Parker.

  I’d made a terrible decision agreeing to come down here. Turning to leave, I heard Carson call out my name.

  “Ashlynn, I’m over here,” he said, just the sound of his voice leaving me on high alert.

  “Oh, sorry,” I replied, swiveling around and hoping he hadn’t noticed me gawking just moments before. “I must’ve missed you. I thought maybe you’d gotten busy with a patient. I’d understand if you had to reschedule. In fact, maybe that’s a better idea anyway. I have quite a bit of work to finish, and I hear the new boss can be quite the stickler,” I laughed, hoping he wouldn’t notice my unease.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re both here now, and I already have the coffee ready. Looks like there are cream and sugar over there. Let’s go take a seat,” he said, pointing to an empty booth in the corner. “And, just for the record, your boss isn’t as bad as his reputation might suggest.”

  Sliding into the booth, my phone dinged with an incoming text. I stared at it for a moment not recognizing the number. Then it dawned on me. As much as I’d hoped to never hear from Jeff again, the text was a welcomed distraction.

  Unknown: Hey, Ashlynn. I hope you don’t mind, but I saw your phone on the table before I left your place this morning. I just had to get your number. I know we agreed on just one night, but after being with you, I knew I needed more. What do you say? Jeremy

  Jeremy! It wasn’t Jeff or Jarrod. Close enough. Now that I knew his name, I had an even bigger problem to deal with. I really did have a clinger on my hands. I’d deal with that later but first, I needed to figure out how to make my escape from Dr. Foster.

  “Husband?” Carson asked as I set my phone down on the table.

  “No, definitely not my husband,” I responded, not exactly sure why Dr. Foster had taken a sudden interest in my personal life. Everything was getting even more awkward between us, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to stop or continue. After all, since he was taking over Dr. Reynolds’ position, he was technically my boss.

  “Not married then?”

  “Not anymore,” I admitted.

  “Sorry to hear that. Care to talk about it?”

  Definitely not with you, Doc. “Nope.”

  “All right then. Boyfriend?” he continued his line of questioning.

  “No,” I answered with a shrug.

  “Oh OK, I’m sorry if I’m being intrusive. I guess it’s just a habit with the job. The last thing I would want is to make you feel uncomfortable,” he said, lightly grazing his fingers across the top of my hand.

  “It’s OK. I’m actually very single,” I blurted out, suddenly embarrassed that I’d opened up in such a way. I definitely needed to get out of here.

  “That’s very interesting, Ms. Sommers. Very interesting,” he said, smirking. “So, tell me about yourself. Are you from around here?”

  “Me?” I questioned, hesitation in my voice. “I thought you didn’t want to be intrusive.”

  “I’m sorry, I thought you said it was OK. And, here I thought things were just about to get interesting,” he said, pulling his cell from his pocket. “Actually, I’m sorry to do this, but it looks like they need me back upstairs. Can we continue this later?”

  “Sure,” I nodded, as Carson excused himself from the booth. I sat there for a moment longer silently thanking the universe for the interruption. Little did Carson know, we wouldn’t be finishing this conversation later. Not if I had anything to do with it.

  Ashlynn

  STEPPING INTO MY office, I dimmed the lights hoping it would relieve the mild tension headache pulsating between my eyes.

  I’d become engrossed in a patient file when I heard a light rap on the door. Looking down at my watch, I was surprised to see that several hours had passed by. Assuming it was Brad, I yelled for him to come in.

  “Yeah, I’m here. Come in.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just thought we could continue our little talk from earlier,” a male voice responded.

  “Oh, Dr. Foster! I didn’t realize it was you,” I said, looking up from my paperwork. “I just assumed it was Brad.”

  “If you’re busy, I can come back,” he said. “And, please, it’s Carson.”

  Logic told me I should send him away, but I selfishly wanted him to stay.

  “No, it’s OK. I was about to call it a night anyway,” I said, stretching my hand behind my back to rub out the knot that had formed at the base of my neck.

  “Looks like you could use a little help over there.”

  If he only knew anything about my many problems. “I’m fine,” I said, immediately regretting my answer.

  “You sure? Some have said I’m a better masseur than a therapist. I’m not sure I’d agree with that assessment, but I do know how to use these hands,” he said, his flirtatious behavior from earlier returning.

  “Well, OK. On second thought, I guess I am a little tense. I’ve been reading over patient files all afternoon, and I must’ve forgotten to get up to stretch.”

  Closing the door behind him, he removed his lab coat and tossed it onto the couch. Stopping at the edge of my desk, he rolled up his shirt sleeves exposing the thick veins in his muscular arms.

  “Fuck me,” I mumbled under my breath. Even though I knew even Dr. Sex couldn’t fix me, it didn’t mean I wasn’t willing to give it–and him–a try.

  “I’m sorry
. I didn’t catch that,” he said, apologetically.

  “Nothing,” I smiled, pulling my long, brunette hair over my shoulder.

  “How’s this?” Carson asked as he began rubbing my neck and shoulders.

  “So good,” I moaned.

  “I understand you have another little problem,” Carson whispered in my ear, his breath warm against my cheek. “Let me be the one to cure you.”

  “How–how do you know about that?” I asked, my voice shaking. “I haven’t told anyone about that. Not even Brad.”

  “I just know these things, Ashlynn. I’m the best at what I do because I’m so intuitive to my patients’ needs and wants. You’re not the only one to refer to me as Dr. Sex, after all,” he said, smirking.

  “Oh god, you heard that?” I questioned, feeling warmth radiating across my face and over my chest. “I’m not interested in being your patient, Carson.”

  “Well, that’s good because I have no interest in being your doctor. I have rules against that sort of thing. But, I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you that I needed you and I think you need me. Am I right, Ashlynn?”

  “Mmmhmmm,” I groaned, as Carson moved his palms from my shoulders slowly to my chest. He began palming my breasts through the thin cotton of my sweater. He’d barely touched me, and I already felt far more than I had before. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was good with his hands.

  “Touch me, Carson, please,” I begged.

  In a single swoop, Carson picked me up off the chair and sat me on my desk.

  “Hands above your head,” he said, his growing erection rubbing against my thigh. “We need to get you out of these clothes.”

  As he lifted the shirt over my head, I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself.

  “No,” he nearly growled. “In fact, let’s remove this bra of yours. I want to see those perfect tits. I know they’re just waiting for my lips.” Dr. Foster was demanding, and although I pretended like I didn’t–I rather liked it.

  Unclasping my bra, my breasts sprang free leaving me bare to him. Cupping them in his palms, his thumbs gently grazing my nipples, he slowly kissed the side of my neck leaving a trail of kisses down my collarbone.

  “God, you’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he whispered in my ear, sending a shiver up my spine. Licking and lapping my breasts, he gently bit down on my nipple.

  Squirming in anticipation of what was to come, Carson guided my thighs further apart with his roughened hands. Taking a finger under my skirt, he teased the outline of my thong.

  Just as he began entering a finger into my pussy, there came a knock at the door.

  “Shit,” I squeaked, trying to put myself together. Looking down, I realized I was still sitting at my desk completely covered–and alone.

  “Come in,” I said, trying to regain my composure.

  “Hey, I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here. I’m glad I caught you though. Monica and I are going to grab a drink to unwind if you want to come,” Brad said, peeking his head around the corner.

  “Nah, I think I’m just going to head home. I’m actually pretty tired,” I said, my voice still shaky.

  “You sure?” he asked again, opening the door wider. “You feeling all right? You look really flushed.”

  “Oh yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a little warm in here, I guess.”

  “If you say so,” he said, eyeing me with a smirk on his face.

  “Trust me, I’m fine. You two go and have a good time. I promise, I’m on my way out shortly. I just have this one file left to go through.”

  “OK, raincheck.”

  “Of course. See you tomorrow.”

  “Same time, same place,” he said, stepping toward the door.

  “Night.”

  “Oh, and Ash, I know you too well. You were just sitting at your desk fantasizing about the good doctor,” Brad laughed.

  What? I was not,” I stammered.

  “Don’t even try to lie. You have sex written all over your rosy cheeks,” he said, his eyes widening. “Unless he’s in here right now.”

  “Shut up,” I said, throwing my file at his face. “He’s not in here!”

  “So, you admit it then. You were dreaming about Dr. Sex. How was he?” he asked, a smug smile crossing his lips.

  “Oh my god. I’m not having this conversation with you. Have a good night,” I said, shaking my head.

  “You ruin all the fun. Don’t think I won’t bring it up again tomorrow,” he huffed, shutting the door behind him.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” I sighed, shaking my head.

  Standing to grab the papers that I’d thrown at Brad, there came another knock at the door.

  “Let it go, Bradley,” I said, as the door creaked open. He always got his panties in a bunch when I called him by his full name.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not Brad,” Carson said, entering my office. “I was surprised to see your light still on. I thought I was the only one here still burning the midnight oil.”

  “No, I was just about to leave, but I got a little distracted.”

  “I can see that,” he said, pointing toward the papers strewn about. “Everything OK in here?”

  “Yeah, just Brad giving me his daily dose of grief,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

  “I see,” Carson paused. “Is there something going on between you two?”

  “Brad and me?” I laughed.

  “Yes. Why is that so funny?”

  “Well, it’s funny because I think Brad would be more interested in you than he is in me.”

  “Oh,” Carson chuckled. “I must admit, I’m a little embarrassed. I usually do a better job at picking up on the signs. Part of the job and all. Something must be distracting me today,” he added, his eyes making contact with mine.

  “It’s understandable. I’m sure you’ve had a busy day. Being thrown into Dr. Reynolds’ cases as well as overseeing our crazy bunch,” I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood between us.

  “Yeah, I suppose that’s all it is then. I could really use a drink to help unwind. Interested in grabbing a nightcap with me?”

  As much as I wanted to say yes, I just didn’t think it was a good idea. Dr. Foster had the ability to get me to tell him more about myself than I was willing to share. “Thank you for the invitation, but I think I need to head home. I’m pretty tired and Steve Urkel is probably getting hungry.”

  “Steve Urkel lives with you?” Carson snickered. “I thought he only existed in nineties sitcoms.”

  “He does,” I said, flipping over a picture of my fur baby. “I picked up Steve Urkel at a local shelter a few years ago. We’ve been best friends ever since. Well as long as I keep him properly fed and watered. He gets irritable when he goes without his kitty kibble.”

  “Why the name?”

  “Well, Steve Urkel is a bit of a klutz. He’s always falling off the counters and knocking things onto the floor. I didn’t quite know what to name him at first, but then I just pictured him saying ‘did I do that?’ and his name was born,” I shrugged.

  “I thought cats always landed on their feet though,” Carson responded.

  “Hmmmph, not Steve Urkel. He definitely missed that memo. Graceful he is not. I do love that little ball of fur, though.”

  “So, you’re the crazy cat lady then, huh?”

  “Well, I guess I’m a single divorcee who’d rather go home to her cat and eat a TV dinner than go out for a drink with an attractive man,” I said, immediately regretting my choice of words.

  “I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted,” Carson laughed. “On one hand, I’m pretty sure you just called me attractive, but on the other hand you’d rather spend the evening with Steve Urkel.”

  “I didn’t mean to insult you. I swear. After all, you are kind of my boss now. That’d be pretty stupid of me to insult my boss–even if you are here for just a short time. Besides, I can’t really be the crazy cat lady. I only have one–at least for now
,” I laughed. “I have thought about getting a second one and naming him Fresh Prince though.”

  Carson just stared at me for a minute, not quite sure if I’d just told a joke.

  “Man, tough crowd,” I finally laughed.

  Looking down at my phone, I realized another fifteen minutes had passed. I’d been so comfortable talking to Carson about my life that I’d completely lost track of the time. “I really do need to get going,” I said, gathering my personal items off my desk.

  “Let me at least walk you out?” Carson said, flipping off the lights as we exited my office.

  “Sure, OK,” I agreed, as he gently rested his hand on the small of my back.

  Carson

  SINCE I COULDN’T convince Ashlynn to have a drink with me–even after a second attempt out in the parking ramp–I decided to return to the office to finish some paperwork. Even though I’d initially accepted this assignment on an interim basis, I was hoping my tenure at St. Therese would be a bit longer than I’d initially anticipated. I wanted to think it was the contribution I could make to the hospital that had me wanting to extend my stay, but deep down I knew it was the beautiful, brunette social worker with eyes of steel.

  Never in my ten plus years in the field as a psychiatrist had I met someone as mysterious as Ashlynn Sommers and she wasn’t even my patient. I typically had a knack for reading people after even the slightest introduction. It’s one of the reasons that I was regarded as one of the best in the field of sex therapy. I knew what my clients needed and I knew how to help them achieve positive results. Some called me arrogant. I called it confidence.

  But Ashlynn was different. I could tell from the moment we met that she was hiding something. Maybe because I knew a little something about that myself. Just when I thought she was opening up to me earlier in the day, she pulled away. And tonight, when I walked into her office, her alabaster cheeks were just slightly flushed–like she’d just finished an intense workout, or maybe something more. I wanted to ask her about it, but then again I didn’t want to embarrass her and have her close off even more.

  Staring off into the corner of the room, I considered putting a fresh coat of paint on the walls to better suit my taste. Maybe I really was ready to call St. Therese my permanent home. Just as I was about to call it a day, a stack of boxes caught my eye.