Page 98 of Rather: The Therapist

His number was one of few in my contacts. I tapped his name and placed the call on speakerphone. My heart raced at the sound of the first ring. Then, there was a second. By the third, I grew worried. It wasn’t until the fifth ring that I decided to end the call, knowing he wouldn’t pick up.

Maybe he’ll call back.

Sighing, I opened the photo gallery of the fairly new device. I’d only had it for a month and the pictures were few. Jru made up most of them. Images the family had collectively sent filled the gallery. Then, there was a thread of new, hidden photos that required my FaceID for visibility.

Dark skin, thick arms, and tattooed skin appeared on the screen. Warmth caressed my body. Fine hairs stood on my arms, back, neck, and fingers. A tingling sensation shot up my spine.

Priest.

I needed something to remember him by. Still images as he rested peacefully beside me were keepsakes that not even he knew about. My growing obsession for his presence painted a picture of misery that helped me see well into my future.

Kofi would be alright in the end, but he’d never be Priest. And, for the life of me, I couldn’t shake my thoughts of that piece of knowledge.

Priest was a man. A caretaker. A provider. A lover. He appreciated my presence. It wasn’t a burden to him. I wasn’t a burden for him. My job wasn’t to create something of him that he’d been unsuccessful at creating himself. It was simply to exist. That made all the difference. That made all the commotion in my head and at my center.

Though personal satisfaction wasn’t necessary anymore, the throbbing between my legs was intensifying by the second and I needed relief. I pushed my panties down until I was able to slip my leg through one side. Spread wide, I parted my lower lips.

“Sssss.”

The tips of my fingers were cold to the touch, sending a chill through me. I pressed four fingers against my clit, desperate to warm them. My sensitivity made the task more difficult than it should’ve been. But once the fire pit had grilled my skin long enough, I removed two fingers and began rounding my clit with the other two.

Priest’s image was enough influence to send me spiraling, but I’d try my hardest to maintain my composure. My sanity depended on it. Because, whether he knew it or not, he was driving me wild.

I strutted toward the front door dressed in a gown that swayed effortlessly. The Hermès sandals allowed it to sweep across the thoroughly clean surface beneath me, making each movement theatrical. Poised and pretty were only a few words to describe how the L’AGENCE Bias piece made me feel.

My vibrating phone piqued my curiosity. A smile drew the corners of my mouth upward at the sight of Kofi’s name across my screen. It had been nearly two hours since I’d made a call to him. He was finally calling me back.

“Hello,” I answered, stopping to take his call.

“What’s up, baby? I was tied up, handling business.”

I leaned against the wall next to the staircase and folded my arms underneath my breast.

“Nothing. I was calling because I had nothing else to do and was wondering what you were up to.”

“Handling business. Nothing much. You ate? My stomach touching my back.”

“I haven’t.”

“Where you at? I can swing through and pick you u–”

“I have therapy with Princeton in a few minutes. I think your father just pulled up.”

“Shit, it is Tuesday.”

“Yes. It is.”

“How long will therapy last?”

“No longer than an hour, but if he’s comfortable then it could last longer.”

“Hit me up when it’s over. If I haven’t eaten, we can go grab something.”

“Well–” I hesitated. “I kind of promised Kleigh I would let her take me to the dress shop to try on a few dresses we chose online.”

“Busy day, huh?”

“Sort of. When I called, I had two hours to spare.”

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