“Hmmm… how about the study, so I get the full therapeutic effect on the leather couch?” I suggest, and he chuckles.
“The study it is,” he replies, and instead of letting me up off his lap, he just stands, lifting me in his arms and making me squeal in surprise.
“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. A little warning, Viking,” I chastise, and his eyes get all steamy. “Damn, the air sure is thinner up here,” I joke nervously, seeing that look in his eyes take over his whole face the longer my mostly naked body presses against his torso bridal-style as he steps us up then down and out of the hot tub.
Without preamble, he lets go of me with the arm beneath my legs, and I yelp when my body drops like a dead weight. But the arm encircling my upper back holds tight, and then he slooowly slides me the rest of the way down his palpitation-inducing body until my feet touch the non-slip mat.
“Well that was unnecessary,” I say, my voice all breathy, and he just gives me a sexy smirk as he takes a towel off the stack and wraps it around me.Chapter 11AstridAfter going upstairs and somehow only rinsing the chlorine off our naked bodies before getting dressed, we’re now in the study, me on the couch and Neil sitting in the matching brown leather armchair he pulled around to face me. Wanting the full therapy session experience, I asked him if he’d dress like he was going to work, and goddamn does he look delicious in the midnight-blue with white micro-dots button-down shirt that fits him like a second skin, solid flat-front navy-blue slacks that leave nothing to the imagination, and a medium-brown leather belt and matching short boots. On his left arm is a watch that’s big enough to be used as a weapon paired with a beaded earth-tone bracelet that circles his wrist three times. He even took the time to fix his hair and clean up his beard, and he topped it all off with a navy blue tie that pops against the darker shade of his shirt. The whole package was enough to make me swoon. Which is why I’m lying longways down the couch with my head resting on the arm.
“You know that’s only how they do it in the movies, right, goddess?” he prompts, and I hold up my hand to shush him.
“I am not your goddess right now, Dr. Walker. My name is Astrid Quill, and I’m here for you to shrink me,” I reply, then pull down my hand to lace my fingers together and rest them on my stomach.
“And I’m telling you that if you were to have come into my office and laid across my couch in that little sundress you have on, I would’ve lost my license,” he responds, and my eyes widen as my head slowly turns in his direction to look at his face.
Serious. He’s serious.
I sit up, making sure to keep my knees together, and when I’m facing him, sitting properly on one cushion, I cross my legs, and his eyes drop down to them before meeting mine once again.
“Very good, Ms. Quill,” he remarks, taking the notepad off the side table he set there with a pen and resting them against the knee of his leg he’s got crossed, his ankle propped on the opposite knee.
“Might I say, Dr. Walker, you have a niche for accessorizing. Everything from your shoes up to your tie is making me feel some kind of way,” I admit, shifting in my seat a little at the growing ache between my legs now that I’m having to sit up and face him instead of staring off at one of the bookcases.
While the rest of his face stays stoic, I catch the fact that one corner of his lips twitches, and it does something funny to my heart that I’m able to affect this big, strong, normally ascetic man.
He’s never been ascetic with you, though, a little voice reminds me, but I push it away.
“I don’t know how accurate this will be if we’re treating this as a normal hour of therapy, since I usually don’t start out by telling my patient all about her sister’s sessions,” he adds.
I narrow my eyes, crossing my arms over my lap before leaning forward to say low, with attitude, “Being the big, bad professional Dom you are, I’m sure you’ll do just fine at roleplaying your own occupation.”
His eyes drop to the cleavage I made, and they fill with heat before meeting mine. I sit back, sucking in a breath when his face darkens and his nostrils flare.
And there’s the Dom he keeps tucked away. Look what you did. Bad, bad, bad.
My eyes instantly widen, my attitude dropping quick. “Shit. I’m sorry. I don’t know why the hell I keep doing that. Am I fucking bipolar or something?”