JR (9 page)

Despite her earlier conviction, she doubted she could regain her professional composure around him. Every time she looked at him, she had flashes of his broad hands lashing her to his examination table, his velvety tongue licking her pussy and the ecstasy that had been chiseled on his face as she sucked his impressive cock while his invention fucked her.

They rode to the restaurant without speaking. The cockpit of the roadster filled with lyrical jazz as Kurt navigated his way through heavy traffic toward a restaurant she’d heard him recommend often. She’d wanted to try it but couldn’t justify the expense when she could cook a week of dinners for the cost of a single entree.

He left her to her thoughts, though she sensed him studying her out of the corner of his eye. With weakened, if not obliterated, barriers, Rebecca should have attempted to shield herself from his prying eyes but she couldn’t shake herself from contentment long enough to care.

It wasn’t until he rounded the hood and opened her door to hand her out of the car that she realized they’d arrived. She caught the valet’s wink and could have sworn she heard him say, “Nice one,” a moment before Kurt tucked a crisp, large-denomination bill into the young man’s hand.

Then, a second man addressed them from the entrance to the restaurant. “Dr. Foster, how nice to see you tonight.”

Without asking his preference, the host showed them to a quiet corner booth as sheltered from the main dining area as possible in the busy restaurant. The man had mistaken her for one of Kurt’s playmates. She tugged on her rumpled suit jacket, trying to restore some semblance of order. Kurt directed her to the bench seat on one side of the table, courteous as ever, before taking his place across from her.

Modern-styled geometric paper lanterns lit the restaurant. Dark wood tables, tarnished copper sculptures and slate tiles lent the room an ambiance rife with male strength. She felt sheltered and diminutive in comparison. Kurt, however, fit right in.

The atmosphere suited him. She flushed with appreciation as the flickering lights danced in his eyes and glanced off his glossy charcoal hair. When she realized he peered back at her with equal intensity, she looked away, embarrassed.

Breaking the long, but not awkward, silence he reached across the table to wrap his fingers around hers, pressing her hand against his strong palm. “Trust me to order for you? I come here enough to know all the best dishes.”

“Of course, Dr…Kurt.”

One side of his mouth kicked up in a smile over her correction. She couldn’t prevent an answering grin. “It does take some getting used to, you know? I’ve always thought of you as my boss.”

Something flashed in his eyes.

She might have figured it for hurt if it hadn’t been such an obvious point.

Before he could respond, though, the waiter arrived. Kurt made his selection without consulting the menu.

They slipped into their usual easy companionship, avoiding the discomfort she feared would linger after their passion had faded. But now, as a pleasant side effect of their intimacy, their roles were less formal.

He only mentioned the study directly once.

They laughed together when a rogue noodle escaped her fork and splashed a few drops of sauce on the back of her hand. Before she could wipe it off, Kurt brought it to his mouth and licked the savory paste from her skin.

She gulped.

“Are you okay with this, Becca? I know some of what happened today might have shocked you.”

She simply nodded, the words stuck in her throat.

“Good.” He wrapped her hand around her fork again then smiled. “I can’t always tell you why I’m doing the things I am during the study but I’m glad you’re enjoying the experience.”

She wanted him to continue, to discover the extent of his desire but the waiter visited again to refill the empty breadbasket. When he left, the moment had passed.

Dinner flew by in a blur as they consumed the delicious meal. The waiter removed their empty plates then placed two glasses of dessert wine before them. Rebecca hesitated. The most she’d ever drunk consisted of a few beers at one of the frat parties she’d gone to last year. Even then, she’d only done it to get her courage up to have sex with her date. She hadn’t cared for the way it stole her self-control.

Nonetheless, she could use some help staying relaxed right now so she imbibed a cautious sip. The wine trickled across her tongue, cool and sweet. She swirled it around her mouth before swallowing.

“This is great, it’s so smooth.” Her tongue reached out to lick a drop off her lips.

Kurt imagined the swipe of her pink tongue affected him like an electric shock on his nerve endings. His dick stood at attention, recalling the way she’d explored every inch of him earlier. He wondered if she had any clue as to what a sensual creature she was.

The way she responded to his every touch and all manner of stimuli impressed him. He noticed how much lighting, colors, textures, physical touches and, now, tastes affected her. It pleased him to observe her trying new things and enjoying them.

Considering the immense effort it must have taken her to lock away those natural tendencies behind the driven, chilly demeanor she affected all these years, there must be a reason she remained so committed to her goals. Kurt found he desperately wanted to understand why.

He needed to know her better.

“Becca, what made you want to be a psychologist?”

She looked up from the half-full glass of wine then blinked a few times before she appeared to focus on what he’d asked. “Hmm? It sounds clichéd, but I thought it would be a great way to help others.”

He could tell she’d given him the CliffsNotes version but she stopped as though finished. Luckily, ferreting out information from people hesitant to share came naturally to him. He leaned back in his seat, prepared to enjoy the hunt. Discovering the inner core of a person had lured him to this profession. He’d learned at an early age to be suspicious of people’s motives. Even those you knew well could have hidden agendas.

Humans, and what drove them, fascinated him. It just seemed that once he got to the heart of a person, he’d never found one who captivated his attention the way the mere thought of Becca did.

A complex woman, with so many layers, she inspired him to peel them back until he unwrapped the gift buried beneath them all. Private to a fault, it had taken six years for her to trust him to the point where he could begin this exploration. When she had first come to him, she would freeze at any casual touch from co-workers or other students and only responded to direct questions. Always serious, she never initiated frivolous conversations, focusing on communication related to their work and her studies. He had adapted to respect her comfort zone and allowed her needs to shape their interactions.

Back then he never would have believed her capable of the wild abandon she’d demonstrated earlier. Becca performed her duties with flawless execution. She was open and generous with patients, diligent and hardworking, but the personal distance she wedged between them had driven him crazy with curiosity. Women never responded to his interest with that kind of automatic cold shoulder.

Hell, he hadn’t even known of her sister until she mentioned the girl’s education as one of her reasons for volunteering for the experiment. Kurt had recognized the sudden scholarship “error” as a ploy on the part of the board as soon as she’d spoken the words. If it had been true, the aid office would have appealed to him for help.

After all, unknown to her, he’d augmented Becca’s scholarships for years. He wouldn’t have allowed financial hardship to lure her into something she didn’t want.

Don’t act so noble.
Guilt crawled through his gut, urging him to reveal the true circumstances behind the experiment’s initiation. Again, he found he couldn’t do it. At first, he had thought to exorcise his interest in his sexy protégé by crashing through her emotional barriers. He’d planned to appeal to her sense of responsibility to rescue his career and satisfy the board. Now, he realized the smoldering need inside him to know her, possess her, went deeper than carnal interest.

He’d waited years for her to complete her studies, to become more than his student. Although it wasn’t a hardship to sit across from her—the warm light, the wine and her satisfied body made her skin glow—he couldn’t wait a moment longer to discover what made her tick.

Becca’s fingers tightened on the delicate stemware. She shifted in her seat, avoiding eye contact, but he promised them both he’d figure out what had forged this marvelous woman, help her heal, and then set her free.

Therefore, he didn’t mention she’d had enough wine. If it helped, he didn’t mind her getting drunk. He resigned himself to dealing with the consequences later. Answers dangled within reach. She didn’t share this side of herself with anyone.

He wanted to be the first, the only.

“Tell me about your family,” Kurt demanded.

He’d always honored her privacy before so Rebecca assumed he needed background information.

Disappointment rushed over her. She’d been enjoying the dinner without any obvious continuation of the case study. For a moment, she considered refusing to answer but the liquid courage flowing through her veins, and his compelling tone, convinced her it would be better to pretend—for one night only—his interest in learning more about her stemmed from a personal desire.

The alcohol in her system weakened the filter between her thoughts and her mouth. Her curiosity escaped before she could reel it in. “Are you asking me for the study, or because you want to know?”

He hesitated as though considering what answer to supply. In the end he settled for a terse, “Both.”

Good enough to delude herself he cared at least a little.

“Well, it’s just me, my mother, and my sister. My sister, Elsa, is coming to Elembreth next year.” Though she didn’t speak of her family much to anyone, she wanted to do everything in her power to validate his research. Even if it meant being vulnerable.

In any case, now that he’d reminded her of Elsa, it would be best to satisfy his curiosity in order to earn the healthy fee. But, the reminder of her obligation didn’t shatter the illusion of her imaginary date as much as she’d have liked.

Rebecca bolstered herself for the unpleasantness of the discussion ahead by touching the glass to her lips again. It was easier to speak of, think of, her sister than her mother even with the alcohol blurring her vision.

Kurt seemed to understand her reluctance to talk about her mother and didn’t push her. Yet.

“You mentioned Elsa’s plans to attend school here yesterday. Why are you so protective of her?”

“Who says I’m protective of her?” she snapped.

Eyebrows raised, he waited in patient silence until she realized the implications of her tone.

She blushed. “I suppose I do look out for her, but that’s what big sisters are for, right?”

“No, that’s a parent’s job, Becca.”

Taking another fortifying taste of the fragrant amber liquid, she braced herself to confide in him things better left unsaid. She didn’t have any dark skeletons in her proverbial closet, but she preferred not to discuss the topic with others due to a survival instinct honed during childhood. Trusting him with her past proved infinitely more difficult for her than yielding to his touch had been. There, her body had betrayed her by shutting off all thought. The freedom had allowed her to give in to the secret desire she’d held for him all along.

Case history may be important to my reactions in the study
.

Her upbringing had molded her into the person she was today. Even as a trained psychologist herself, old habits died hard. The stigma surrounding mental illnesses made it difficult to air her private business. She’d spent most of her adolescent life trying to project an image of the perfect home life to the outside world.

Irrational as it seemed considering their profession, she still worried the truth might change Kurt’s perception of her.

“Becca?” He leaned closer then stroked her knuckles with the tips of his fingers. The gentle caress made her warm all over and, before she knew it, she poured out her secrets.

“I guess, looking back on it now, my mother has always battled clinical depression. Of course, as a child, I didn’t know the terms to explain why she acted the way she did. She wanted to be a dancer. I know she had talent. Pictures of her dancing are the only places I’ve ever seen her happy. Completely alive.”

Pausing, she peered into the empty glass she twirled between the fingers of her right hand while Kurt squeezed the other in reassurance, encouraging her to continue.

“I don’t know exactly what happened, but from a few tabloid articles I found and things I’ve heard her say in her sleep or…other times.” She thought of all the days she’d returned from school to find her mother abusing the pain medication she’d kept on hand. “I know she went to an audition for the ballet in New York. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen at the time. When she got a call back, the director told her she could have the part…as long as she agreed to sleep with him.”

Grateful for the waiter pouring a refill from the towel-wrapped bottle, she swallowed another mouthful.

Kurt watched with the quiet thoughtfulness of a seasoned listener. He probably absorbed every nuance, as her gaze skittered around the room, across the table, to her glass, but never meeting his.

Still, she couldn’t help herself. With the telling begun, the words flowed out like water gushing over a broken dam, eager to be free once and for all.

“She got pregnant. With me. Of course, the director denied everything and she didn’t fight. She had to quit dancing, get a job…” Her breath hitched so she took a steadying gulp of wine.