Tempting Tricks (Tempting Nights #2)

Chapter Eight

~Trick~

I t’s been less than twelve hours since I left her in that room in The Den, and here I am, standing outside the door to her office, staring at the nameplate attached, wondering what the fuck the A stands for.

A. Murphy

Doctor of Psychiatry

The first and only invoice I received from her office so far also just had her first initial. She called herself Belle last night. Did she just make up a name? I lift my hand to knock but then lower it as I take a step back. I hope I didn’t push my luck too far last night when I left.

Every single session I’ve ever had with her, I’ve fled, always citing, “Time’s up” as my get out of jail free card. But there was that small part of me last night, the evil part, that wanted to leave her wondering. That shit is clearly backfiring on me now. I’m the one left standing here, hesitant to enter her office, wondering if she knows. Does she know that I know she liked the pain? That she wanted me. Does she know now that there is a side to her that I don’t think she even realized was lurking in her. What she doesn’t know is that I want her just as much.

“Fuck it,” I mumble. If I’m going to make her squirm, I’m going to have fun doing it. Without knocking, I push through the door, startling her when I breeze in. “What’s up, Doc?”

“Patrick.” She rises from behind her desk, glancing at the clock on the wall. “You’re early.”

“Am I?” I shrug out of my jacket, the same one she returned to me earlier this week, and hang it on the rack beside the door. I turn and look at her, strolling over to the same chair I sit in every visit, and plop myself down. “There’s a first for everything, I guess.” I cock one side of my mouth up in a grin, my sentence serving a dual purpose, even if she’s not aware of that.

She doesn’t take the bait. Instead, she grabs a notepad off her desk and moves to sit on the couch across from me. I scan her body discreetly, knowing so much more about it than I did just one day ago. I can’t help but be a little disappointed when I see she’s dressed more conservatively than usual, in dark wool slacks and an ice blue cashmere turtleneck. Her feet and ankles are effectively hidden in fitted boots. I was so hoping for another look at her tattoo. I wanted to see it again, to confirm it was indeed her across my lap last evening. Thinking about it causes my cock to stir, so I shift in the chair, crossing one of my ankles over my knee.

“I’ve been thinking, Patrick—” she starts, but before she can continue, I cut her off.

“What’s your first name?”

She frowns, her lips pursing for a moment before replying. “What?”

I uncross my leg and lean forward. “I was just wondering what your first name is.”

“Why?” She blinks rapidly, her body visibly tensing.

“Well, you know my full name.” I lean back, clasping my hands behind my head, stretching my chest, watching as her eyes follow my movements. “Isn’t it only fair that I know yours?”

One corner of her mouth pulls down, and the crinkle between her eyes that I’ve come to adore appears. “These sessions aren’t about me. They’re about you.”

I scoff, lowering my arms to rest on the chair. “Is it some big fucking secret? I mean, I am paying you two hundred dollars a fucking hour. Is it really unheard of that I’d want to know the name of the person I’m giving my fucking money to?”

She stares at me for a moment, her mouth moving slightly as she clenches her teeth before speaking. “You’re angry.”

My brows rise. I used those same words against her last night. “No. Just curious.”

“You just used the word fuck three times,” she challenges.

“I like the word fuck.” I lean forward again, lowering my voice when I continue. “It’s a good word.” I chuckle when she rears back against the couch. “And you still haven’t answered my question.” I smirk, continuing. “I thought evasion was my specialty.”

Her knuckles turn white as she grips the pen in her hand and begins tapping it against the notepad on her lap, her knee bouncing in time with it. I’ve made her nervous. Good.

“Forget it,” I toss out. “I didn’t realize it was going to be such a big fucking thing.”

She sighs. “I just think it’s important to keep things professional. That’s easier to do if we keep things formal.”

Is she fucking kidding me? I had my fingers in her god damn pussy last night . It occurs to me then that she’s not sure if I know that it was her last night. And she’s not taking any chances. I nod, sneering out my response. “Whatever.”

Neither of us say anything for several long seconds before her soft voice breaks the silence. “It’s Annabelle.” I lift my head and lock eyes with her. We stare at each other until she finally blinks her lids shut, turning her head to look at the clock. When she turns back to look at me, she seems to have regained her composure.

“Thank—”

“Patrick—”

We both begin speaking at the same time, and both stop. She fidgets with the pen in her hand, clears her throat, and starts again. “Patrick, I think it would be better if I assigned you to another colleague.”

My eyes narrow, and my nostrils flare when I register what she’s just said. I knew last night might make her uncomfortable, but I definitely wasn’t expecting this response from her. “What the fuck for?” I stand, my jaw clenching .

“Please, sit down.” She nods, pointing to the chair.

“I don’t want to sit down.” I widen my stance and cross my arms over my chest, prepared to stand my ground. “Why don’t you want to be my doctor anymore?” I know exactly why she doesn’t want to be my doctor anymore, but frankly, I’m surprised she would dismiss me so easily.

Since I don’t sit, she rises and moves to lean against her desk. “I’ve been seeing you twice a week for over a month now, and I just don’t think we’re making progress. You come to these appointments and barely speak. When you do, it’s not about anything related to your PTSD, and that’s what we need to be working on for you.”

I take a few steps closer to her. “So, what, you’re just going to give up on me? After only a few visits?”

“This is our eleventh visit. We’ve had more than a few.” She turns and reaches for a card on her desk and holds it out to me. “And I’m not giving up on you. Take this.” I stare at the card but don’t move. “This is my friend, Anthony Sparks. He’s a brilliant therapist, and I think he’d be a better fit for you. I’ve already spoken to him, and he has agreed to take you on.”

I take two more steps, now only six inches away from her, but still don’t take the card. She sighs and lowers her hand.

“What if I don’t want another doctor?”

She lifts her eyes to mine, a sad smile on her face. “I think it’s for the best.”

“Do you think I can’t be saved?” I blurt out.

Her mouth gapes open and she grabs onto my bicep. “No.” She shakes her head, looking up at me, concern on her face. “Of course not. Why would you even think that? ”

“I feel like we’ve just started, and you’re already throwing in the towel.”

“Please, no.” The grip on my arm tightens as she tries to make her point. “That’s not it at all. I just—” She closes her eyes and looks away then back up at me. “I’m trying really hard to do the right thing for you. To make sure you have a doctor who can really help you.”

“And that’s not you,” I counter.

“I just—” She lets out a long sigh, releasing my arm as she does, and steps back. “No. That’s not me.”

“Why don’t you tell me the real reason?” I take a bold step forward, placing a hand on either side of her on the desk, and drop my gaze onto her startled ones.

“What?” She stammers, lifting her hands to push against my chest. I don’t move.

“Tell me why.” I lean even closer. “Tell me the real reason you don’t want me in your office anymore, Doctor Murphy.”

She pushes against me again, her hands flat and tiny on my chest, but I don’t budge. “Patrick, you’re scaring me.”

“Am I?” I lower my head so it’s a fraction from hers, so close I can feel the heat of her breath against mine as she pants softly. “Or are you excited?”

I lock my feral gaze onto her dilated pupils. “Is this the reason you can’t have me as your patient anymore, Doc?” I take one hand off the desk and skim it down the side of her face. “If I lowered my hand, would I find your breasts peaked in excitement?”

Her eyes widen, her breaths quickening. “If I pushed myself against your body right now, would you stop me?” I lean myself against her hands and chuckle when there’s no resistance. “Would you be shocked to know how hard my cock is? That all I want to do is push you back against this desk and fuck you?” Her teeth bite onto her lower lip, and unable to hold back any longer, I bend down and swipe my tongue over her mouth.

“Is this what you really want to be doing with me in this office, Anna?” I drop my hand back onto the desk and push my full body against hers, my hard length pressing against her center, a whimper escaping her. Surging forward, I crush my mouth against hers and kiss her, moaning at the taste of her when she opens to sweep her tongue against mine.

Her arms slide up and around my neck, wrapping tightly as our kiss intensifies. Her legs spread, and I thrust my pelvis against her center, my cock jerking in approval as it rubs against her core, warm even through the fabric of our clothing.

I lift my hand, weaving my fingers through her wavy, brown locks to grasp her head, deepening our kiss. I rock my length against the seam of her pants, her mouth releasing mine as a groan slips past her lips. I move my lips and trace a path across her cheek, finding her ear, and run my tongue around its, rim, her body shivering underneath me.

I whisper, like the devil I am, “Is this the reason, Belle ?” Then I rise abruptly, stepping back and away, her mouth forming an O of surprise, her chest heaving as she moves to sit up.

Smirking, I shake my head and lean forward to snatch the card she tried to give me earlier, a gasp falling from her mouth. I make sure to brush against her as I back up, leaving her with a final message. “You know where to find me. ”

Then I turn, stroll to the door, grabbing my jacket this time, and close it behind me as I exit, leaving no doubt that I know exactly who she is and where she was last night.