If I looked at an arse or the outline of a dick, was it illegal?
No.
Maybe rude at best.
Men did it all the fucking time to women, and the world hadn’t collapsed yet.
I reached the end of his road and paused at the corner, pulling my phone from my bag and typing his name into the search bar. Curiosity hummed beneath my skin now, bright and insistent instead of anxious.
Hmm.
A big-shot psychologist.
My eyebrows lifted as I scrolled, interest sharpening when I hit the gossip section. My eyes widened further as photos loaded—actual celebrities caught entering or leaving his office, sunglasses on, heads down, unmistakable even in grainy shots.
Well.
That was… interesting.
I slipped my phone back into my bag, a smile tugging at my lips as I started walking again, the city suddenly feeling less hostile, less watchful.
Maybe these sessions really would change things.
Maybe I wasn’t doomed after all.
???
That night I lay in bed, showered, wearing fresh pyjamas and inhaling the fabric softener from my clean bed linen. I dug my phone out from beneath my pillow and pulled it closer, the screen lighting softly as I brought up his photo.
Maddox Lexington.
It wasn’t his waistband I was looking at, but the clarity in his eyes. No one could do a job like his without a certain degree of empathy. My gaze lingered on those long fingers. Even his nails were perfectly buffed.
It was such a pity that he was my therapist.
I felt we connected.
Ugh.
Or I was a psycho stalker.
My next session was on Wednesday.
Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
Three hours a week.
Three hours of his undivided attention.
I waited until the house was quiet. Until the lights were out and the familiar stillness settled around me. Only then did I flick through my phone to find his best picture on the soft, glowing screen before slipping my hand down my waistband.
Sadly, it was over in seconds.
I’d learned to breathe through the pleasure so I didn’t utter a sound.
I tiptoed to the bathroom to clean up before going back to bed again.
Only this time, I brought the wet wipes with me.
