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I clear my throat. “Well, it seems our time is up.”
Gabriel’s eyes give nothing away. “I guess we pick up where we left off next week?”
Normally, I don’t rush a patient out the door, but today I stand to move things along. I need a minute to myself. Maybe an hour. Maybe a day. And definitely a tall glass of cold water. Possibly a shower.
Gabriel is quiet as he makes his way out. He stops and turns back with his hand on the doorknob. “Any dates in the near future at Sunny’s?”
“No.”
He flashes a smile. “See you next week, Doc.”
* * *
It’s after midnight, and I’m still obsessing over my session with Gabriel today. The attraction. The spark. It’s been a long time since my senses came alive like that. Not since you. Even all these hours later, the yearning inside me is so overwhelming that I can’t seem to relax enough to sleep.
I stare up at the ceiling in the dark. Every time I shut my eyes, I picture the way Gabriel looked today. Piercing eyes, that sexy ghost of a smile playing on his lips, the way his tongue ran along the flesh of his mouth…
Sweat breaks out on my forehead as I think about what he would’ve done if I’d made a move.
Would he have kissed me back?
I imagine Gabriel’s lips crushed to mine.
My nails digging into the skin of his back.
Him inside me.
Hard.
Deep.
Oh God.
The rational part of me itches to rear its ugly head and berate me for even thinking about a patient this way. And not just any patient, of course. But the irrational part of me is stronger tonight. It wants to be reckless. So I do something I haven’t done in a very long time. I reach into my nightstand to take out my vibrator.
It hums to life with a sound that immediately sets my body on fire, and I trail it painstakingly slowly along my skin—down my chin, over my collarbone, pulsating on my nipples until I’m trembling. Then still lower and lower until it slips into my panties and I open my legs wide, feeling the build of an orgasm already forming. Like thunder before the storm.
Maybe Gabriel was right after all. We’re depraved, not deprived.
CHAPTER 23 Now
I’m tidying the apartment Sunday morning when my phone rings. I pause, mid-pillow-fluff, and look across the room to where the screen is lit up.
I don’t get many calls these days.
Well, that’s not really true. I do get calls. I just don’t answer them. Irina reached out just the other day. She left a message inviting me to lunch. But I can’t face her. It’s hard to face anyone from that part of my life—the Connor and Meredith decade. I’m ashamed. So much of my life feels like a lie now.
But it might be important, might be the after-hours phone service calling about a patient in crisis. I replace the pillow and hurry across the room, feet padding over soft carpet. I’m thinking I should sell the place. Get a new apartment, or maybe a smaller one. Just one that’s not so… you.
My brother’s name crosses the screen, and I swipe to answer.
“Jake,” I say. “How are you?” We haven’t spoken since… I’m not sure when. Christmas? Our communication is mostly in the form of texts or exchanging memes on social media.
“Hey, Mer, how’s the weather in the city today?”
I laugh, because he works here and lives a train ride away in Connecticut. His weather is likely within a degree of mine today, yet he always acts like he’s across the country.
“Good. Today is a little warmer, finally. How are the girls?”
