Page 23 of Firefly Effect

Gabe. The name triggers annoyance in the back of my mind, but I can’t be sure she’s talking about the cop. I push the thought away. “Sometimes when a person feels guilty for their actions, they self-sabotage. Do you think that’s why the sex was terrible?”

She thinks about it then nods.

“Can I ask why you didn’t want to explore an emotional connection with this Gabe guy?”

The way she looks into my eyes before responding makes me realize just how intensely I’m anticipating her question. She shakes her head firmly. “I guess it’s the same reason I don’t explore emotional connections with any guy. It has nothing to do with Gabe in particular.”

“And why do you think that is?”

Her mouth opens then closes.

“I’m not judging you, Evie,” I say to clarify. “I’m only trying to help you understand.”

She shifts in her chair, indicating discomfort. “I don’t know.”

The quick, dismissive answer tells me she might have some inkling about why she avoids attachment, but I let it go. Clearly, she’s not ready to explore those reasons why yet.

“Okay,” I say. “Then why sex? What do you get out of it?”

Her cheeks burn with color again, this time a darker red. “I… I don’t know. I suppose it’s something I can get lost in.”

Narrowing my eyes at this answer, I try again. “Close your eyes, Evie.”

They flutter closed.

“Why is sex something you want to get lost in?”

She visibly swallows.

“Take your time,” I say. “Think back on your experiences.”

Her breathing goes shallow, and her palms rest in her lap. “It’s like… an out-of-body experience. In a weird way, I can be someone completely different. Someone confident. I feel… powerful and in control.”

She takes in a deep breath then lets it out slowly as if she’s finally relaxing. “There’s something about the feel of a man between my thighs while I’m riding him, slipping up and down his erection while gradually quickening my pace.” Her thighs part slightly, and her chest heaves a bit. “The contact of our bodies. The sensation of it all building and building. The orgasm that brings me crashing down.” Her breath hitches with her words, like she’s experiencing it all right there in the office. “It’s all so freeing. So addicting.” She inhales deeply and opens her eyes to meet mine. “And none of that requires an emotional connection.”

Fuck me. For the first time in my entire career as a therapist, I question just how much of a professional I am. I’m hard—so fucking hard—and all I can do is squeeze my hands together above my lap to try to hide it.

Evie doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, she stands up, straightens her skirt, and flushes intensely. If I had to guess, I would say her pussy was soaked after the mental picture she just worked up. I imagine this is how she would look after fucking me in the exact way she just described.

“I should get home. Thank you for seeing me.”

I want to leap to her from where I’m leaning on my desk, but she’s sure to notice the way my pants have tented in reaction to her words. “You’re welcome anytime, Evie. I’ll have Doreen call you tomorrow to book your next session.”

Evie’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “That’s not necessary. This was a one-time thing. I’m not sure I should come back.”

Disappointment crushes me. “Wait. What?”

She turns away to walk toward the door. A growl roars inside me, stemming from frustration that surpasses my greater instincts. Why does this woman have to be so infuriating?

I step forward, doubling the stride of my steps to catch up with her just as she’s opened the door. “Evie, please. Just wait a second.”

She swivels around, catching me off guard since she’s standing so close. Her eyes burn into mine. “Coming here was a bad idea.”

“It was a great idea,” I argue, confusion swirling through me. Talk about whiplash.

Her eyes slip down my body to where my hard-on is finally deflating. Her lips turn up in a smirk as her gaze fixes back on mine, and she tilts her head as if in challenge. “You sure about that?”

I don’t have an answer. I can’t defend myself. I can’t explain my way out of this one. So I let her go, still somehow confident that no matter what she’s saying now… she’ll be back.

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