Page 56 of Knot Only His

The room is filled with peaceful music playing in the background.

The clock strikes five as the last rays of sunlight filter through the clinic windows, but my heart is racing as I wait for my last client of the day.

Harlow.

There’s a knock at the door and I already know it’s her. The scent she claims comes from a bottle is seeping through the cracks of the door.

My heart rate picks up another notch as I say, “Come in.”

Harlow steps into my clinic, a smile on her face, and I have to grip my pen tighter to ground myself againsther scent.

It’s stronger today, probably because of Carver. My jaw clenches at just the mere thought of him with her.

“Thanks for seeing me again, Asher.” Her smile lights up her face.

“The honor is all mine.” I mean it more than she knows.

She stands and waits as I prepare the space. Little glances around the room. She’s been here before. She wasn’t this nervous the last time, though.

I take two pristine white sheets and carefully drape them over the plush bed before giving her a smile.

Her nipples harden under her tee shirt. The room is at the perfect temperature, which makes me think this is more about me.

That’s when I see she has a nipple bar.

I inwardly chastise myself, attempting to push aside my dirty thoughts, but those thoughts arouse my body, causing my cock to strain against the confines of my pants.

I can’t let Harlow notice; I can’t have her going elsewhere.

Luckily, she’s too captivated by the bed to see what is happening to my treacherous dick.

Breaking the silence, but keeping my voice gentle. “Let’s see to your needs.” With each word, I try to keep professionalism in my tone, despite the intense desire coursing through me. “Are you okay with me going ahead?”

“I’m fine.” I watch as Harlow’s expression shifts from surprise to curiosity, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“Remove your clothes as you normally would,” I instruct, my voice a low murmur—that’s the only way I can stop the purr rumbling from my chest. “I’ll give you some space and let you lie on the bed and cover yourself with the sheet.”

Harlow’s gaze fixates on my hands, as if suddenly realizing the magic they possess—the ability to ease her aches and provide her much-needed relief.

“Okay, I’ll be a minute.” A hint of nervousness tinges her response, her voice coming out as a small, squeaky sound. It’s endearing, making me smile.

She shifts her weight but keeps staring at the bed and then me. Like she is suddenly unsure why she is here.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She shifts on her feet, and I notice she’s favoring her right side again.

That won’t do.

I clear my throat and keep my tone professional. “You know the drill now. I’ll close the curtain. Remove your clothes and pull the sheet over your body. I’ll write up some notes and be back in a couple of minutes.”

I step out of her space, closing the privacy curtain behind me, and take a long deep breath.

My clipboard sits empty on the counter. I pick it up but don’t write a single word. Instead, I take more deep breaths, trying to center myself, trying to control myself. But the knowledge that I’ll be touching her again soon makes my hands tremble.

The rustling of clothes stops.

Silence falls.

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