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“I’m ready.” Making a show of straightening my back, I clear my throat. “I can’t wait to stop calling you a psycho.”
Marcus’s deep, throaty chuckle has me returning him a smile.
I ogle his broad back as he unfolds himself from the couch. Staring down at me, he rearranges his features.
Stern and professional.
Dr. Kingston.
However, there’s nothing professional about how he grips my shoulders. How he manhandles me into a lying position. Just as I predicted, my breasts spill out and I feel the cool air of the air condition on my pussy.
He doesn’t look at these areas. His sole focus is on my face.
“Before we start, remember the following.”
“Yes?”
“I won’t take advantage of you when you’re under a trance.” Marcus grabs the throw blanket at the end of the couch, spreading it over my body. Backing his words with actions. “This won’t be similar to what we’ve done before. As you well know, I care for the patients—and now a woman—I induce. I won’t plant suggestions in your head, either. I’ll be doing some light digging, and at the smallest sign of distress, I’ll wake you. You’re safe. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“Good.” Not a muscle flinches on his face as he takes a seat on his chair. That’s how self-assured he is. “I’m going to count down from five to zero. At the end of the countdown, you’ll be very sleepy, won’t you?”
He lets my mind familiarize itself with the idea. He could’ve said moon, but no. He’s moving slowly. He’s safe.
Meaning I’m safe.
“Okay. I’m good to go.”
“Good girl.” He leans forward. “Five… Your chest expands with a deep breath. Feel the air seeping into your lungs. Oxygen flows into your bloodstream. Relaxing you.”
I’m more comfortable already. Heaviness settles in my limbs and mind as the countdown and suggestions continue. By the time he gets to zero, I’m here and yet I’m nowhere at all.
Floating.
“Leighton.”
Silence. I don’t possess the ability to talk anymore.
“Leighton, how are you?”
I do now. Marcus asked me a question. Instructed me to answer. “I’m okay.”
“Ah, there you are.”
“Hi.”
“Do you like the color blue?” Marcus asks, his question soothing me further. There’s nothing harmful about colors.
“Yes.”
“Orange?”
“Mmm.” My lips stretch. I feel like I’m smiling. Oranges are my favorite fruit.
“The color orange.” His voice is a smile. “Do you like it?”
“Oh. That. Yes.”
