Page 45 of S is for…

Shut up, self.No, he’s not.

Laney swallowed hard, feeling naked despite the fact that she was wearing a knee-length black robe.

“I’d like to ask a personal question,” he said finally.

“Okay.”

“But I’m worried you’re going to answer.”

Laney had just tipped the cup to her lips, and when she snorted out a laugh, she nearly spit tea everywhere.

He was smiling as she sputtered in amusement.

“You want to ask a question, but you’re worried I’ll answer.”She arranged her features into a serious expression.“Makes complete sense.”

“I thought so.”

“Why are you worried I’ll answer?”

Peter leaned forward, elbows on his knees.“Because I think you’ll feel obligated to answer.”

“Because I’m a sub?”

“No.”He hesitated, grimacing, then continued.“I suspect that even outside BDSM, you feel obligated to answer people’s questions.”

Laney carefully set down her teacup.“We just met; it’s a little early for you to be armchair-psychoanalyzing me.”

“Normally I would agree, but in this case, I’m just trying to be mindful of not hurting you.”

“You’re assuming I have some messed up childhood and people-pleasing issues, because…” Laney sat back and crossed her arms.“Because I’m into kink?Because I enjoy sex?Because I’m submissive?”

“No.”He paused, looking into his teacup.“Because, by your own admission, you’re a people-pleaser.”

Laney ran her tongue over her teeth.She’d spent many, many therapy sessions talking about that particular behavior.“I did say that, didn’t I?”

“You did.”His lips twitched.

“Are you a shrink?”she snapped.“Since we’re getting personal.”

“No.I’m a research cognitive psychologist.”

Laney blinked, some of her irritation fading with surprise.“Oh, so this isn’t pop psychology.You actually know what you’re talking about.”

“Sort of, but not in the way you mean.”He shifted, leaning a little closer to her, and for a moment she felt pinned by the weight of his attention.

“First, no one should diagnose anyone who isn’t their patient.Second, my kind of psychiatry doesn’t involve patients.”

She knew psychiatrists were the meds doctors, not the talk therapy people, but still… “No patients?”

“Correct.”

Laney opened her mouth, closed it to hold back the sassy comment.But then a strong feeling best defined as You know what?Fuck ittook hold of her and the words popped out.“Because you’re bad with people?”

Peter’s brows rose, and Laney’s stomach knotted in horror at her own words.

Then his lips twitched.“No, that’s not why.”

“I’m so?—”

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