He seemed surprised again. “I’m impressed you’re not lying to me by denying I’m different.”
“I’m not a big fan of deceit. I’m a psychologist. I’m here to counsel you. I deal in truths and emotions. Lying and playing games would only hurt you. I want to help. Have you ever considered taking a name? Some of your people have chosen to take names that aren’t typical. Names that reflect emotions they identify with or things they discover they love. You’re more than just a number.”
He shrugged.
He has. She hid the smile that threatened to surface, thrilled he was finally opening up a little. In four months he’d stonewalled her at every turn. She’d even changed his session times to the last appointment of the day since she didn’t want to halt him if he ever decided to talk.
“What do you feel?”
“Annoyed. I’d like to skip coming here.”
“What would you do if you weren’t here at this moment?”
He hesitated. “You want the truth?”
“I was being honest when I said I’m not a big fan of deceit.”
“Fine. I’d probably be in my room watching more of those p**n videos on the internet and releasing some…tension.”
Her cheeks warmed but she refused to show embarrassment. Sexual issues weren’t her specialty but she wouldn’t back away from the topic. “Do you release tension often? Does it help with some of your aggression issues?”
“How do you know I have any?”
“You have a chip on your shoulder, you seem to avoid interaction with most of the people here, and I was informed you tried to start a few fights with the male guards. You go out of your way to target them despite knowing they wouldn’t stand a chance against you. You’re physically superior.”
His pride was easy to read. “I know.”
It told her more about him and she liked that he had self-esteem. It was a promising step toward recovery. “Have you tried boxing? Some of your men enjoy it. It’s a great outlet to release anger.”
He cocked his head. “That’s not my idea of a good time.”
“What interests you then? I’ll see what I can do if you know of something that might work. I know everyone has internet and cable access so you can learn a lot more about the outside world.”
“I doubt you’d want to get me what I want.”
“You won’t know unless you ask.”
“Fine.” He smiled—a genuine one. “Females. I’d like to pound something but it wouldn’t be a weight bag.”
She shouldn’t have been shocked by his answer but for someone who had refused to talk to her for so long, he seemed intent on saying things to make her uncomfortable. She suspected it was on purpose.
“There are plenty of women around you, 466. Ninety percent of the staff is female and some New Species women live here.”
“Ninety percent of the human females are pregnant or just had babies. Your people know we’d never attack them so they send them here to work with us. Our females don’t want to be touched. There’s no one to f**k.”
She had no words. None.
He leaned forward to peer at her, still smiling, and suddenly rose to his feet. She pushed back in her chair, a little fearful with him standing. They were alone. She didn’t believe he’d hurt her but he seemed to want to make her squirm. He was accomplishing it quite well too.
He sniffed as he leaned down, placed his hands on her desk inches from her own and softly growled. “You have no male in your life and you aren’t pregnant.”
She swallowed hard. “You don’t know anything about my personal life. Please take your seat.”
“I can smell everything about you.” He stared deeply into her eyes. “You no longer wear that stink you called perfume and switched to organic soap.”
“I was informed that it bothers your sense of smell.”
“You had sex this morning but you were alone. Do you watch p**n in your room, Dr. Yards? Do you use your fingers or do you own some of those sex toys I have seen?”
She felt the blood drain from her face. How does he know that? Another thought struck and she jerked her hands off the desk. Can every client I’ve seen today tell I’ve masturbated? That implication was staggering. She was mortified and hoped he was bluffing. “Please sit down and stop trying to provoke me into releasing you early from the session.”
“Where’s your honesty now?” He leaned toward her and slowly inhaled. “I. Can. Smell. You.” A soft growl came from deep within his throat. “It drives me a little crazy and wild. Do you know what I want to do about it?”
“No. Please take your seat.”
His eyes were beautiful that close, just a foot from her. They reminded her of melted chocolate with a hint of gold thrown in. The pupils seemed to narrow as he watched her. He growled again and inched even closer until she could smell him. He carried a rich, masculine scent with a hint of something familiar that she could identify—he’d recently drunk coffee.
“I want to lay you out on this desk, bare, and lick between your spread thighs, which will be hugging my face, until you beg me to take you. I’d flip you on your stomach and bend you over in front of me right here.” His finger tapped the wooden surface of her desk. “I’d f**k you until we both couldn’t walk, think, or talk.”
Her hands trembled in her lap and clenched. She wished her chair had wheels so she could push it away from him and the desk. Wishing didn’t make it so. Her heart raced and the idea of him doing that to her did odd, funny things to her lower belly.
“I’m not a big fan of deceit. I’m a psychologist. I’m here to counsel you. I deal in truths and emotions. Lying and playing games would only hurt you. I want to help. Have you ever considered taking a name? Some of your people have chosen to take names that aren’t typical. Names that reflect emotions they identify with or things they discover they love. You’re more than just a number.”
He shrugged.
He has. She hid the smile that threatened to surface, thrilled he was finally opening up a little. In four months he’d stonewalled her at every turn. She’d even changed his session times to the last appointment of the day since she didn’t want to halt him if he ever decided to talk.
“What do you feel?”
“Annoyed. I’d like to skip coming here.”
“What would you do if you weren’t here at this moment?”
He hesitated. “You want the truth?”
“I was being honest when I said I’m not a big fan of deceit.”
“Fine. I’d probably be in my room watching more of those p**n videos on the internet and releasing some…tension.”
Her cheeks warmed but she refused to show embarrassment. Sexual issues weren’t her specialty but she wouldn’t back away from the topic. “Do you release tension often? Does it help with some of your aggression issues?”
“How do you know I have any?”
“You have a chip on your shoulder, you seem to avoid interaction with most of the people here, and I was informed you tried to start a few fights with the male guards. You go out of your way to target them despite knowing they wouldn’t stand a chance against you. You’re physically superior.”
His pride was easy to read. “I know.”
It told her more about him and she liked that he had self-esteem. It was a promising step toward recovery. “Have you tried boxing? Some of your men enjoy it. It’s a great outlet to release anger.”
He cocked his head. “That’s not my idea of a good time.”
“What interests you then? I’ll see what I can do if you know of something that might work. I know everyone has internet and cable access so you can learn a lot more about the outside world.”
“I doubt you’d want to get me what I want.”
“You won’t know unless you ask.”
“Fine.” He smiled—a genuine one. “Females. I’d like to pound something but it wouldn’t be a weight bag.”
She shouldn’t have been shocked by his answer but for someone who had refused to talk to her for so long, he seemed intent on saying things to make her uncomfortable. She suspected it was on purpose.
“There are plenty of women around you, 466. Ninety percent of the staff is female and some New Species women live here.”
“Ninety percent of the human females are pregnant or just had babies. Your people know we’d never attack them so they send them here to work with us. Our females don’t want to be touched. There’s no one to f**k.”
She had no words. None.
He leaned forward to peer at her, still smiling, and suddenly rose to his feet. She pushed back in her chair, a little fearful with him standing. They were alone. She didn’t believe he’d hurt her but he seemed to want to make her squirm. He was accomplishing it quite well too.
He sniffed as he leaned down, placed his hands on her desk inches from her own and softly growled. “You have no male in your life and you aren’t pregnant.”
She swallowed hard. “You don’t know anything about my personal life. Please take your seat.”
“I can smell everything about you.” He stared deeply into her eyes. “You no longer wear that stink you called perfume and switched to organic soap.”
“I was informed that it bothers your sense of smell.”
“You had sex this morning but you were alone. Do you watch p**n in your room, Dr. Yards? Do you use your fingers or do you own some of those sex toys I have seen?”
She felt the blood drain from her face. How does he know that? Another thought struck and she jerked her hands off the desk. Can every client I’ve seen today tell I’ve masturbated? That implication was staggering. She was mortified and hoped he was bluffing. “Please sit down and stop trying to provoke me into releasing you early from the session.”
“Where’s your honesty now?” He leaned toward her and slowly inhaled. “I. Can. Smell. You.” A soft growl came from deep within his throat. “It drives me a little crazy and wild. Do you know what I want to do about it?”
“No. Please take your seat.”
His eyes were beautiful that close, just a foot from her. They reminded her of melted chocolate with a hint of gold thrown in. The pupils seemed to narrow as he watched her. He growled again and inched even closer until she could smell him. He carried a rich, masculine scent with a hint of something familiar that she could identify—he’d recently drunk coffee.
“I want to lay you out on this desk, bare, and lick between your spread thighs, which will be hugging my face, until you beg me to take you. I’d flip you on your stomach and bend you over in front of me right here.” His finger tapped the wooden surface of her desk. “I’d f**k you until we both couldn’t walk, think, or talk.”
Her hands trembled in her lap and clenched. She wished her chair had wheels so she could push it away from him and the desk. Wishing didn’t make it so. Her heart raced and the idea of him doing that to her did odd, funny things to her lower belly.
