The Fallout (The Therapist #3) - W.S. Greer Page 0,54
forceful. This is why I always wait until my partner voices it clearly that she wants me. I was nearly ready to burst waiting for Dr. Monroe to say she wanted me to taste her, but she did finally say it. All I can think now is that she may have felt pressured by how I carry myself. If you're not used to being with a Dom, it can come off a bit strong and forceful, which is why some people get Doms and BDSM relationships confused with abuse. I’m a Dom. I will never be an abuser.
Should I call Dr. Monroe? Do I ask if everything is okay? Do I ask what the hell the whole thing was about? Did she ever want me to begin with? Does she regret what we did? If I show up to therapy next week, will I be arrested? I really don't like not having the answers to these questions.
It might not be the best idea, but I decide to pull out my cell phone and text the number she gave me when we began our sessions together. She told me I could use it if I ever needed to talk to her, and I know she meant more for emergencies, but I text her anyway.
Me: Hey, I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable yesterday. That’s the last thing I ever want to do. Is there any chance we can talk later? If not, I understand, but I'd love to hear from you.
She doesn't send an immediate response, and I don't have time to dwell on it for too long, because I have patients who will be here any minute. Demi and Eli Lane are on the schedule first today, and I think I might have the pleasure of speaking to both of them at the same time. When I walked past Keisha and her brand new computer on my way into the office, she didn't say either of the Lanes had called to request a one-on-one visit. Maybe the two of them have worked things out. Either that or they’re down to their last straw and are looking for one final session before someone files divorce papers. We’re about to find out, because as I scroll through both of their files on my computer, my intercom blares with the sound of Keisha’s voice.
“Your nine o’clock has arrived, Dr. Colson,” Keisha says, sounding as chipper as ever.
“Great. Thank you, Keisha.”
I leave both files open on the computer but put the screen on sleep mode so I can transcribe notes after the session, then I go over to the door and open it up.
When they walk in, it’s different than before. Eli and Demi Lane seem happier as both of them greet me with smiles, and neither of them is standoffish. When I first met Eli, I honestly expected him to quit the therapy. He was so defensive, even though he was the one who gave them a reason to come see me in the first place. A month later, Eli Lane is walking in here humbled, and looking a lot like a man who has learned a very valuable lesson. He’s dressed down today, rocking blue jeans and a plain white Lane Contracting T-shirt. I’ve never seen him so casual and relaxed. It looks good on him.
Demi Lane looks just as calm and collected as her husband. She’s wearing black leggings and a white tank top, but it’s her confidence that stands out. Last session, she walked in carrying the weight of Eli’s mistakes. Today, she looks as though she has let that weight go, and she’s enjoying the freedom of standing up straight for the first time in seven months.
“It’s nice to see both of you here today,” I say to open the session, to which both of the Lanes chuckle. “You guys look good together, and can I just say you look happier today as well. Hopefully I’m not misreading things, but please correct me if I am. Since this is the first time I’ve seen both of you in a while, how have the last couple of weeks been? Demi, would you like to go first?”
Demi smiles brighter than I've ever seen her smile, and I’m amused at how upbeat she seems. What have the two of them been up to?
“Well, things have been surprisingly good over the course of the past couple of weeks, I would say,” Demi begins. Eli co-signs her statement by chuckling behind her. “Umm,