If you don’t want others to treat you like a sex object, don’t treat yourself like one. Let people in.
I can do that, right?
I enter Jordan’s office five minutes early, with two iced coffees and a small box of donuts.
“Hey,” I say as I hand him his coffee.
“You’re a lifesaver,” he says as he grabs it, sounding tired.
I raise an eyebrow at him.
“I mean, I know that, but why doyouthink that?” I tease.
“The coffee machine in the break room is busted,” he says before putting away half his drink so fast I think he’s going to get a brain freeze. I swallow hard as I watch his cheeks hollow as he sucks the liquid through the straw.
Fuck me.
I force myself to look away to avoid popping a full blown erection in his office. Because watching him drink his iced coffee is far dirtier than it should be.
“Oh,” is all I’m able to choke out before he sets it down. He saunters over to the table and smacks it with his hand, making both me and my cock stand at attention.
“Lay down.”
I have to suck down some of my coffee to placate my nerves. I know this is part of my treatment. He checks me before every appointment to make sure everything’sokay before we start working my exercises, but still I have to remind myself that his touching me is professional, not personal.
But today, all I can think about is the other day. When I fell into his lap and he was rubbing my knee—in a not professional way. Very not-professional.
“On your stomach,” he adds as I approach the table. He grabs my drink and sets it down on the desk. He nods to the bed. “I’m not going to tell you again.”
My shoulders loosen and my brain glitches.
I’m not going to tell you twice, Alex,” Vance hisses.
“Sorry,” I say as I blink through watery eyes.
His hand wraps around my throat, and I can smell the alcohol on his breath.
I blink, trying to push the thoughts away.
Vance isn’t here. He’s not in Ashbourne, not in Mack’s office.
He’s in my head and only in my head now because Ileft.
I notice Mack’s a lot closer to me than he was a minute ago.
“You good?” he asks, his voice steady, calm.
My gaze dips to his mouth.
A part of me wonders what he’d do if I kissed him here, in hisoffice.
Would he kiss me back? Would his mouth make me forget about the things that haunt me? Would it take away the pain?
I think it would, but I guess I’ll never know because I don’t kiss him. Instead, I do as I’m told.
I get on my stomach and lean forward. He runs his fingers along my knee, underneath it. The touch is gentle yet firm as he taps and squeezes. I only wince a little.
“Feels good,” he says and I move to get up, but his palm on the small of my back pushes me down. He applies pressure, and I can’t move.
