Stare Me Down (Stare Down) (2 page)

Her mouth dropped open and she blinked twice before she snapped her lips together. Looking to the right, she examined the wainscoting for a few seconds. It gave him the time to view her profile. It was nice. Delicate. Yes, without those glasses obscuring most of her face, you could see her high cheekbones. He didn’t even blink when she turned back and pinned him with an impressive scowl. “Did you hire a private detective to spy on me?”

“No.”

Again she held his gaze. “Then how do you know all this stuff?”

“There are teabags in the garbage. Your slippers are here—” he nodded at the floor, “—under the desk. You can read with and without the glasses, the clipboard has nominal information on it and everything of use‌—‌your pens, papers, basically all your essentials‌—‌are positioned to the left. That tells me you favor your left side. As to you sleeping on that side of the bed? Purely an educated guess.”

“Are you purposely trying to make me uncomfortable?”

Trying? She was so not comfortable, he grinned, “Yes.”

That got her pen going. Her slim shoulders rocked back and forth as he imagined her mentally flinging, “Oh, yeah? I’ll show you!” and for a split second he almost caved to the desire he had to order her to get up on the desk. This was not good. He’s the one that should get up, not on the desk of course, but to leave. His desire for her was escalating something fierce especially now that he was sure she was feeling it too. It was inevitable. In this closed space with just the two of them? Thank Christ they only had a couple of sessions. He’d make it.

She continued to jot her nonsense, so he had to ask, “What are you writing?”

“Oh…” she paused and gave him a tight smile before she began writing again, “just my psychoanalysis babble stuff so I can start filling up this clipboard, a.k.a—” she waved it at him, “—my shield.”

He chuckled. She was funny, he’d give her that, and as levity was his new best friend, he latched onto it. “Well, make sure you hit all the highpoints. Mention asshole, transference and narcissistic tendencies.”

She remained focused as she penned the notes. “So, you have been to therapy before. Good to know…” She stopped and stared at the page with a shake of her head. “I can never remember how many S’s there are in narcissistic.”

“Three and two c’s.”

“Thanks,” she said and finished writing with a stab of her pen on the paper. “Now.” She looked at him. “My shield is sufficiently covered, vis-a-vis, psychobabble. See?”

When she turned it around, he silently read the words, “Mr. Taylor is an arrogant asshole who possibly suffers from narcissistic personality disorder. He mentioned transference, but I highly doubt he understands the factors that drive this condition. If I had to explore a concrete concern about him at the moment, I’d be looking into Parataxis disorder. Clearly his previous therapy had a hand in this.”

“Arrogant?”

“Case. In. Point.” She threw the clipboard on the desk and it spun in a full circle before stopping. “You just read that whole paragraph and the only word that stuck out to you was ‘arrogant’? How ironic.”

She smiled. A real smile that lit up her whole face and made the eyes behind those ridiculous glasses twinkle. But then he spotted the gorgeous dimples indented in her cheeks and decided two things. Her attractiveness was subtle. Quiet almost, while it snuck up on a person, and the more time he spent with her the more convinced he was that her kind of beauty would look awesome naked and tied to his bed.

“I’ve never been in therapy before, so I don’t think we can reference an established earlier experience there.”

She inclined her head. “Impressive. Did you take courses in college?”

“Yes. I figured the study of the human condition would be a huge asset in my chosen career path.”

That had her wheels turning. Her brows furrowed and she said, “You’re the owner of a club.”

He leaned forward and brought his forearms down in a cross on the desk. “I know.”

She stared as his shoulders for a second too long and then raised her gaze to his face. “I don’t see the relevance.”

“It’s a sex club. An establishment that not only tolerates, but encourages all kinds of various kinks. If I didn’t take the time to understand what makes people tick, especially kink-inclined individuals, it would be irresponsible of me, don’t you think?”

Her eyes widened but her voice was calm. “I think we’re far afield from what we should be discussing.”

Perfect. Time to keep her out in left field. “Agreed. How about we discuss why The Dragon Lady tries to ruin‌—‌I mean run your life.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “I suppose you’re referring to my boss, Doctor Carmichael?”

He nodded.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, ‘why The Dragon Lady tries to run my life is none of your business’.”

His shock was threefold. Number one, she wasn’t surprised by his question which meant she was fully aware of what her boss and colleague was doing to her. Number two, she didn’t seem the least bit perturbed that he’d referred to that woman as The Dragon Lady, and number three, she’d point-blank snubbed him, when what she really should have done was placate him with some kind of inane answer so he could have wasted more time. “I think—”

“Mr. Taylor.” That address came out as if she were speaking to a child. That got his Dom blood simmering.

His gaze never wavered. “Careful.”

This show of assertiveness was what he’d been hoping and dreading to see from her during every minute of those six one-hour classes he’d attended. A little gumption on her part was a good thing, but his instinctive reaction to it? Not stellar if he was going to keep his distance. Before he could help himself, he leaned forward and gave her his undivided attention. Directing the weight of his stare in unspoken challenge, wanting, almost desperate to see how much nerve she had.

“I don’t think I need…” Finally caution prevailed and she caught herself while the silence that landed between them was stark and consuming, echoing through the surrounding molecules for a full thirty seconds.

And then there it was. A little shake. A shiver as if a thrill had passed through her. That combined with her pupils dilating, swallowing up most of the cornflower blue of her eyes and turning them onyx, told him many things. The most important? “I know what you need.”

She shivered again and the action fed the dark side of his ego until it was nearly full to bursting. But other than that second quiver, she didn’t move. Her breathing pattern changed though, and the pulse at the base of her neck picked up speed. He wished he knew what she was thinking. A woman like her no doubt went through a mental list a mile long before she’d admit she was confused and out of her element with a man like him. For the next few moments they stared at each other. Neither one of them moved as the air between them crackled. Any second he was going to reach forward and drag her onto the desk. He’d get those purple eyes to lower beautifully for him before their time came to end, if it was the last thing he did.

“We’re not here to discuss my needs. We’re here to discuss yours.”

Wrong answer. “So you don’t want to hear what I have to say about your needs?”

“Again, I think we’re far from what we should be discussing.”

When she went to pick up the clipboard, he placed his hand over it. “I don’t think so.”

She let go and sat back. “Well, I do.”

“Interesting. Don’t you think me being the owner of a sex club is the very reason I’m here?”

“No. I think, unless your career is frustrating you to the point of acting out in an aggressive manner, you being a club owner has no bearing with the circumstances that brought you here. Other than that it happened in your parking lot.”

How the hell had they gotten here? He needed to do something else fast. Like pull the proverbial rabbit out of the toy chest or something. When had his plan to maintain distance by being arrogant and insufferable changed into challenging her? Flirting with her? Questioning her about her needs? How was this supposed to keep an arm’s length between them? Between her and all he wanted to do with her, to her? He needed to gain back some space. And there was one surefire way to do that. Scare the shit out of her. “I disagree. I think my career has everything to do with why I’m here. If I weren’t making buckets of cash, I’d be no good to an opportunist. So yeah—” he leaned back, “—I think I want to discuss my life’s work in great detail with a professional who may be able to shed some light. Give me some insight. Offer me ideas even to possibly improve my understanding of things. People. Who knows? You might know better about what makes them tick.”

Doctor Jaxx Gavin stared into the steel-grey eyes of her court-ordered patient without flinching. She knew what kind of power shift was at stake here if she didn’t hold her ground. Ramsey Taylor, Aries to his friends, was a popular Dom, and she knew why. Not only was he gorgeous, built like a brick shithouse and had a presence that charged the energy in the room, he was also smart. Really smart, and that was a shame, because a guy’s intelligence was her kryptonite. Looks came in as a distant second to a great brain. And she was sure Ramsey Taylor had one. Not that she’d be pressing to find out. Because even without a great brain he was tempting. Dangerous. Powerful, especially when he gave her one of his “looks” which effectively took her breath away, but his voice? That got her hot and made her heart bash against her rib cage.

“Hello? Earth to therapist. I’m counting on you to be an expert on understanding certain things.”

Damn. Busted. One look at him and she gauged his expression. Smug. Was he gloating?

“Understanding of what things?” He’d better not be thinking that they were going to discuss certain intimate—

“The underlying factors that contribute to my specific kinks.”

Sex.
She should have known that a man like him would stick it to her for making him do the extra three hours. “I don’t see how that will help you work through your aggression issue. Maybe we should start with some of your day-to-day stresses instead.”

“Boring.”

She would have rolled her eyes but she was still trying to win their staring contest, since she’d lost the last one. “These sessions weren’t ordered by the court to entertain you.”

“True. The court only ordered six. You were the one who added more.” Thank God he looked away. She nearly wilted in her chair. It wasn’t easy holding her own with a force like him. She was just mentally patting herself on the back when he added, “Be that as it may, if you play your cards right, you might find you’re the one who’s entertained.”

The smooth timbre of his voice melted her insides and she almost smiled.
Smiled?

Oh, no. He wasn’t going to charm her. “I take my job very seriously, Mr. Taylor.”

“I know. That’s why I think you need to lighten up a little. Call me Ramsey.”

She didn’t know what to say. It was as if the words got lost from her lips to his ears. “I think you suffer from selective deafness on top of everything else.”

His slow grin made her pulse quicken so she added, “And I will not call you Ramsey.”

“No, you’re right you shouldn’t. Call me Aries.”

Now he wanted them to be friends? She folded her arms across her chest and glared.

“Oh, come on, don’t get mad. Just look at this situation from where I’m sitting.”

“I can’t help but look.” She was going for an even tone, which was hard to maintain while speaking through her teeth. “You’re sitting at my desk.”

“Yes, and about your desk. Next week I’ll bring a cork leg shim for it. I imagine it’s annoying.”

Not as much as he was at the moment. “Don’t trouble yourself. I can pick it up.”

He sat back and purposely mimicked her position. The whole scenario would have been laughable if he weren’t getting to her.

“Then why haven’t you?”

Not that she had to dignify that with an answer, but… “I haven’t had the time.”

“Yet you’ve had the time to fold bits of cardboard up and wedge them there? By the look of that mangled piece, I’m guessing it’s been there for months.”

It was a year, actually, but who was counting? “I’ll take care of it.”

“Suit yourself. Back to the situation at hand. I’m assuming you read the court transcripts?”

She nodded, trying to guess where this was going. In the time she’d already spent with the man, she knew he didn’t say or do anything without purpose. He paid attention too. Close attention. The Dragon Lady, he’d dubbed Maggie, after only briefly meeting her friend what, twice at the most? Worse he had the whole depressing situation figured out.

“So you know that I didn’t assault that guy. Surely you saw through the bias of that judge. He didn’t like me because of who I was and what I did for a living. That’s why I was sent to your class. As to why I’m here for extra psycho duty I have no clue, but since I’m here, I may as well make the best of it, right?”

“How magnanimous. I think you’re the first patient I’ve ever had to accept ‘mandated therapy’ so well.”

“Seriously? Well, try going into the marriage counseling business. I bet you’d have a ton more, as invariably one party or the other is dragged to it.”

Hm. Speaking of being dragged. It was clear that he was going to continue to fight her every step of the way unless she came up with a compromise. She supposed he deserved one, as she had read those transcripts. The truth was he hadn’t done anything wrong. That much was obvious and the very reason she felt guilty about tacking on these extra sessions. She took a deep breath and let it out loud enough he’d hear it. “All right. We’ll discuss whatever you want in the last two sessions on a couple of conditions. First—”

“I’m not good at following orders, but I’m great at giving them. Why don’t you let me handle things from here?”

She ignored that chipper offer and repeated, “First off, you will sit on the sofa and not at my desk.”

“Couch.”

“Fine couch.”

“Why do you let that woman push you around?”

She wasn’t going to be sucked into that conversation. “Second, you will refrain from attempting to analyze me during our future sessions, understood?”