Unethical

Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Sarah

I swirl some Thai noodles around a fork as I stare down at the plate. I admire the colors, the size, the texture, anything besides the man sitting across from me. The man who has my panties in his pocket.

“You gonna ignore me when I still have your come on my tongue?”

I look around to be sure no one heard him, but the other diners are blessedly oblivious. For now. “You said I had to go to lunch with you. You didn’t say I had to talk to you. I’m not rewarding your behavior, Maxim. You stalked me—again—and took advantage of me in that dressing room.”

“Took advantage of you? That’s a bit of a stretch. You were wet before I even sank my fingers inside you. You didn’t look too taken advantage of when you were whimpering as you came.”

He doesn’t even lower his voice as he speaks, and heat flushes my cheeks as I drop my face into my hands and hide from the invasive glares of the food court patrons who definitely fucking heard that .

“If I talk to you, will you stop talking about that stuff here?”

Maxim smirks, and it’s sinfully attractive. That’s the problem with him. He’s clinically insane but visibly perfect.

“What do you want to talk about, doc?” he asks, and I cringe at having to endure that nickname in public. All I need is for people to connect the dots and realize I’m on a nonconsensual date with a patient.

“What is all this?” I ask through gritted teeth. “What. Is. This?”

“It’s cold-blooded obsession. It’s the closest I’ve been to another human. You did that, doc.” His smirk widens, and his eyebrow rises.

“The only thing cold-blooded here is you. I haven’t been able to do anything for you. I haven’t gotten through to you in the slightest.”

“That’s not true. You’ve gotten to me plenty. Like a destructive little bug that’s infiltrating every structure of my home, you’ve destroyed the integrity. You’ve infested it.”

“Wow, paint it in a grimmer light, why don’t you?”

He leans forward and puts his elbows on the table. “What is this to you, doc?”

“I . . . I, um . . .”

I can’t even answer the question. It’s fucking stupid, that’s what it is.

I should have stopped it by now. I should have thrown him back into prison to rot. But Maxim makes me feel something . He makes me feel wanted and, dare I say, special. A murderer like him shouldn’t make someone feel any way but horrified and disgusted. Someone like him shouldn’t make me shudder against his palm.

But I have. And I probably will again.

And that’s disgusting and horrifying.

Is coming on a murderer’s hand just as sinful as the man who committed the murders in the first place? Especially now that I know what he’s done.

I don’t know what’s worse.

“Listen, Maxim,” I finally say after my thoughts have run haywire. “I don’t know what this is. You’ve transformed me into something I simultaneously hate and love.”

“I’ve fucked you like only a felon can,” he says, and those words send an unexpected shiver through my body. “But seriously. You like that I stalk you. That I pursue you so goddamn hard. You love that I’ve learned your body like a blind man learning braille. You’re enjoying letting loose and being used and fucked like someone who didn’t spend half their life in fucking college to become the woman who’s not allowed to come on my dick.”

Him explaining what I begrudgingly feel is equally maddening and vindicating. I have always done the right thing. I’ve always sought positive affirmations from my parents, my professors, and my bosses. I strived to be the good girl everyone wanted me to be.

Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to the imperfect. The people brave enough to be openly bad. The men and women who don’t care how society views them. Maybe I want to shove them into my perfect little box in my mind. Maybe that’s why I want so badly to fix them.

Be. Fucking. Good.

Be good, Sarah.

God, this lunch is turning into a mindfuck.

He must have picked up on my silent screaming because he sits up.

“Listen, doc,” he says, “I’m not trying to ruin your life. I’m trying to make mine better.”

“Can’t you see that I want the same thing for you?”

He shakes his head. “No, what you want is to check off some boxes, put me on meds, and make me into a mindless drone. You don’t care about who I am or what I’ve been through. You’re just like them.”

Now we’re getting somewhere. I have to keep him talking. “I’m just like who?”

“Anyone in the system who’s taken great pains to chew me up and spit me out. The foster parents. My actual fucking parents. The penal system. Yeah, I was probably born with a few screws loose, but everyone in my life has spent more time loosening them further than trying to tighten them up.”

The psychologist in me wants to spit out all the things we’re taught to say in this situation. You don’t have to remain a product of your environment. You can change your way of thinking. Yadda, yadda, yadda.

Instead, I say what feels right. “I’m sorry so many people have failed you.”

He pushes the tray of food away from him. “And people wonder why I’ve become a demon.”

“I don’t think you’re a demon,” I say, though I’m not sure I’m being completely honest. He’s pretty fucking evil.

“Yeah, you do. And that’s fine.” He stands and picks up his half-eaten meal. “Maybe this lunch thing was a bad idea.”

Having lunch with a client is definitely a bad idea, but I’m a glutton for punishment today. “Sit down and finish eating. You were the one who came up with this idea to begin with.”

“I just wanted more time with you so I could learn more about you. Sharing dirty details about myself isn’t part of that fantasy.”

As he walks toward the little row of plastic trash cans, I take a moment to really think about what I’m doing. I, a respected member of the psychology community, am fucking Maxim, a murderous felon who wouldn’t know a boundary if it landed on his head. Not only am I fucking him, but I’m actually starting to like him.

And now I’m about to cross a line of my own.

When he returns to the table, I clear my throat. “Why don’t we walk around the mall a bit longer? I don’t have any plans, and you can take that time to ask me some things about myself.”

While I’ll gladly spill some of my own tea, I’ll only do so in exchange for some of his.

A smirk spreads on his face, and my stomach clenches. This would be easier if he wasn’t so goddamn attractive. “I have a better idea. Why don’t we head to a scenic spot I know?”

Against my better judgment, I nod and follow him out of the mall.