“I am a sex therapist and you came to me because you were having difficulties in that department.” I smiled reassuringly while visions of bobbing my head up and down his length flashed through my mind.Was that a wet spot forming on my panties?
“I can assure you those difficulties vanished as quickly as Scarlet vanished from the US.”
“She left the country?”
“That’s not important. You won’t need to worry about Scarlet.”
“How can you be so sure? She seriously wanted me dead. I sensed some pretty extreme jealousy when she spoke to me at the warehouse.”
“She won’t be an issue. I promise you.” His stare—so penetrating, so hard, so punishing—convinced me this wasn’t a topic he wanted to discuss.
“So, if she will not be a problem, why do you need to see me again?”
“This is the tenth visit per my obligation. I finish what I start.”
“Because it is financially to your benefit?”
“Yes.”
“Is that the only reason?”
Maybe I wouldn’t see Dirk after this meeting. My heart sank and my stomach knotted at the thought. When Scarlet was in the picture and I thought there was a chance they might work it out, I didn’t want to interfere. Even with some of our wonderfully sex-filled meetings, I had to step aside and let them work it out. With her gone, all I wanted was to see him as often as possible.
He thought about my question and only answered after a long pause. “No.”
“No?”
“No.” He was being as tight-lipped as a killer, unwilling to confess to murder.
“Dirk. Why did you meet with me today? Besides it being the tenth session and fulfilling your pre-nuptial agreement.”
“Perhaps I wanted to see you again. Maybe I enjoyed our time together.”
“In our therapy sessions?”
“Well, there was one very memorable session.”
“That wasn’t an official session.” Memories of practicing sensate touch in the office’s bedroom, normally only used by my sex surrogate, Chastity, played like a movie reel in my head.
“But it was memorable.”
“Yes. It was.” I actually blushed, as thoughts of him touching me like he did that night caused my skin to tingle.
The questions we were delving into were on that list of questions that probably shouldn’t be asked in the office. I tried to regain control, not only of the session, but of my own unraveling emotions.
“So you say your libido is fine now. Correct?”
“Yes. It is better than it has been in some time.”
“What do you attribute that to?”
“My security team has some theories.”
“Your security team? They know about your sex life?”
“Not exactly. We found some drugs at our home, hidden in Scarlet’s dresser.”
“What kind of drugs?”
