Page 19 of Consumed

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"Where's Kaia?" Dr. Kincaid asked me, grabbing the closed Umbrella from her purse.

"She had to leave early for a family emergency," I briefly explained, my jaw tightening as I tried my hardest to avoid her stare burning into my face.

"And you're out here all alone?" Dr. Kincaid asked me, clearly concerned as I stood awkwardly under this stupid canopy.

"Yes, but I'm good. I got an Uber," I said, smiling slightly at her.

Dr. Kincaid's lips parted, as if she wanted to say something.

Until she suddenly shook her head once, "Right, well, hopefully, it comes soon," she said, glancing over to Dr. Leclair.

I still refused to, focusing on the ground instead of her overall presence.

"I'm staying with her while she waits," Dr. Leclair had the nerve to say, earning my attention completely, "I'll see you in the office tomorrow."

Dr. Kincaid nodded at her words, "Have a good night," she told us both, walking past me.

"You too," I mumbled, watching as she opened her mini umbrella before stepping out from under the canopy.

My small smile dropped as soon as Dr. Kincaid walked away toward her car, leaving me alone with Dr. Leclair.

It was tensely silent between us both, especially as I refused to meet her stare or even acknowledge her presence.

I purposely turned away from her, unlocking my phone to track my Uber again.

It's still thirteen minutes away.

Fuck this.

I would rather walk in the rain than stand here with her.

But I won't because that'll fuck up my hair.

Obviously.

I glanced up from my phone, fighting the urge to let out the most dramatic sigh as I watched the shiny white Mercedes drive by.

I quickly realized it was Dr. Kincaid's car, even if I couldn't see past the tinted windows.

I focused on watching her car drive away, distracting myself from Dr. Leclair's presence behind me.

I even started counting the seconds in my head, listening to the rain and—

"Come on," I heard her familiar voice from behind me, snapping me from my thoughts.

I didn't react.

More importantly, I refused to turn around and give her any of my attention.

"I'm good right here," I said, forcing a firmness in my voice so she would drop it.

But I knew better.

"Liberty."

I briefly closed my eyes, drawing in a deep breath to help keep my composure.

I didn't move an inch, refusing to give in to her.

"You're not standing in the rain out of principle," Dr. Leclair specified, her tone even firmer with me and leaving no room for disagreement.

But I would find a way to disagree.

"It's twelve minutes away," I mumbled reluctantly, refusing to get in a car with her.

That's the last thing I'll do right now.

"I'll have you home in ten," Dr. Leclair said, and I could feel her take a step toward me, making annoying knots tie in my stomach.

I purposely remained silent, refusing to even acknowledge the point she made.

"You don't have to talk. You don't even have to look at me," Dr. Leclair spoke again, her voice much closer to me, "But I'm driving you home."

I swallowed hard, gripping my phone tighter.

I didn't want to be in a car with her.

Not after earlier.

Not after—

My thoughts cut off when I felt her presence even closer, heat radiating off her despite the cold night air.

"I'm not asking, Liberty."

Her voice was softer now, but that only made it worse—it made it harder to pretend that I wasn't already considering it.

Still, I didn't move.

And I hated that she didn't either.

Dr. Leclair didn't sigh or scold me.

She didn't do any of the things a normal person would when someone was being as difficult as I was.

Instead, she just stood there.

Waiting.

I clenched my jaw, staring at the ground like if I focused hard enough, I could make her disappear.

She didn't.

Instead, she leaned in, just enough for her familiar scent to invade my senses, "Five seconds, Liberty."

I clenched my jaw at her words, ignoring the warmth they caused deep inside of me.

I turned my head just slightly, my stomach tightening at the way she was watching me—calm and expectant, like she already knew exactly what I was going to do.

And I hated that she was right.

"Fine," I mumbled, canceling my Uber before stuffing my phone in my pocket.

Dr. Leclair only nodded once, taking a step forward to open her umbrella.

It wasn't a mini one like Dr. Kincaid's.

Instead, hers was much bigger—big enough for me to step underneath with her and walk toward her car.

Dr. Leclair reached into her pocket, unlocking the Bentley as we approached it.

The rain was hard against her umbrella as she guided us toward the passenger side, reaching for the door handle just as I did.

I drew in a deep breath when her hand met mine, pausing against the door handle slicked with rain.

Dr. Leclair only halted for a moment, standing so closely behind me that I could almost feel her warmth.

Then... her hand curled around mine.

But only to pull the door open, allowing me to slide into the passenger seat of her familiar car.

I reluctantly pulled my hand away from hers, trying to seem unaffected as I slid into the passenger seat.

Dr. Leclair gently closed my door as I got settled, causing me to buckle my seatbelt as I watched her round the car through the rearview mirrors.

I inhaled the fresh leather smell, still just as prominent as the last time I was seated in her car.

Except I wasn't drunk—instead, I'm sober and very fucking nervous.

I glanced over when the door opened, watching as she slid into the driver's seat and smoothly closed her umbrella, putting it in the backseat.

Then she closed her door, pressing the start button by the gear shift as she reached for her seatbelt.

It was silent between us as she put the car into reverse, briefly backing out of the parking spot.

Soon we were on the busy streets of downtown Seattle.

And suddenly, I understood why my Uber had taken so long.

The traffic is fucking insane—even for a Monday night.

It's probably a crash, especially with this kind of rain.

I sighed, leaning against the door as we sat still in traffic.

I should've just waited for the Uber.

I pursed my lips together as I continued to stare forward, feeling her briefly glance over at me.

It was tense between us.

So much so that I found myself holding my breath, not wanting to breathe too loudly.

If that's even a fucking thing.

"Kaia," Dr. Leclair suddenly spoke through the deep silence, "Is that what we're doing now, Liberty?"

I continued staring forward at the endless line of cars in front of us, "Cool, you're disappointed—I don't care about your opinion anymore," I mumbled spitefully, even if a small part of me does care.

Very small.

Minuscule even.

"It's your own opinion you should care about here," Dr. Leclair corrected me, her stare burning into my face as we remained stuck in traffic, "You worked hard to separate yourself from her, Liberty."

I shrugged, "And now we're good again," I added as she glanced back to the road, driving forward when the cars inched up.

"I see," was all she said, keeping her focus ahead rather than looking at me.

There was another tense silence.

One that made me focus on the raindrops harshly pattering against the car.

It would be soothing if I were at home and in my bed.

Not in the car with my therapist.

Or past therapist.

Fuck.

"She's very hands-on," Dr. Leclair noted almost in observation, still on the topic of Kaia.

My eyes snapped over before I could help it, landing on her perfect side profile illuminated by the red lights of the different cars.

"She is, Dr. Leclair," I purposely said, using her full name rather than the usual nickname I always used.

That's when she glanced over, her blue eyes locking with mine.

It was silent between us for another moment as I held her stare, refusing to look away first.

A heat burned up my body the longer I held her stare—while she actively looked calm, comfortable even.

"She doesn't touch you like a friend should, Liberty," Dr. Leclair spoke again, her tone lowered between us.

There was a tightness to her voice, one that made me draw in a subtle breath.

So she is jealous.

I fought the effect that realization annoyingly had on me—ignoring the heat now burning me from the inside instead.

"And you don't talk to me as a therapist should," I twisted her words back to her, leaning over the console closer to her as my seatbelt stretched.

I was so close, that her familiar scent invaded my senses, holding her stare entirely as she remained still and unaffected by the lack of space.

"You're being a hypocrite," I whispered so softly, my tone sweet and sarcastic.

Dr. Leclair didn't react.

Even as I pulled away from her, settling back in my seat.

She only stared silently at me for a moment.

"You say you're just my therapist and then you say things like that—you send me bouquets and pick me up in the middle of the night, you're driving me home right now," I pointed out, speaking again when she didn't say anything.

Another tense silence settled between us as we stared at each other.

I could feel my chest rise with each breath I took, my heart pounding in my ears as I anticipated her next move.

That's when the cars in front of us moved, forcing her attention to shift ahead and inch the car forward before stopping.

Then she let out a tight sigh.

"I know."

Her words were lowered between us, but she didn't bother to soften them.

She didn't hide them away and make them barely audible.

She fully agreed with me.

I blinked a few times, processing what she just admitted.

And what I should say now...

So many thoughts were roaming through my head.

It genuinely felt like I had hallucinated the two words that just fell from her lips.

"I'm very aware how confusing this is," Dr. Leclair spoke again when I remained silent, glancing over to meet my stare, "I'm sorry for that, Liberty."

My brows furrowed at her words—at the apology she just gave me.

It made my head spin.

It also made my heart pound heavier in my ears.

I suddenly glanced away from her, staring forward at the traffic ahead.

"Don't take me home," I whispered before I could think it through.

I just... didn't want to leave this car with her yet.

Not after this breakthrough.

I want more.

"Where do you want me to take you?" she asked me, her stare burning into the side of my face as the rain came down even harder.

I shrugged, "Anywhere," I murmured, still avoiding her stare as I anticipated what she would say next.

If she would decline my request.

Her silence made it feel like she would.

Or maybe she was thinking about it, contemplating my words.

I glanced over when she suddenly switched on her signal and turned down the nearest side street.

It made knots grow in my stomach, trying my best to act normal.

Like her sudden actions weren't affecting me.

But it was the first time she had actually given in to anything I said.

I tried my best to stare forward, focusing on anything other than her.

Like the subtle traffic lining the dark side streets, glistening from the rain.

The traffic definitely wasn't as bad as the main streets but it was still there.

The stoplights didn't help, making the lines of cars more backed up.

But eventually, the downtown traffic thinned out as she drove further and further.

The tall buildings got shorter and the skyline receded as she navigated down the slick roads.

We were a decent distance from the city, making the knots in my stomach tighten.

I wondered if she would finally discuss this all with me.

Or if she was secretly a murderer and planned to kill me out here.

But instead of driving to some sketchy cabin, she drove up a winding road with a sign placed halfway through labeled Kerry Park.

The rain continued pattering against the car as we eventually made it to an empty parking lot.

She parked in the space closest to the edge, where the view of the city could be seen.

I could see the Space Needle—all the city lights blurred by the rain on the windshield.

It distracted me from how on edge I suddenly felt, squeezing my hands together in my lap.

There was a long silence that stretched between us as we stared forward.

The tenseness grew so much that I didn't have to force myself to breathe.

Because I couldn't physically breathe if I tried.

"I... didn't mean for everything to go how it did," I suddenly spoke, trying my best to explain where my head was.

"Me either, Liberty," Dr. Leclair said as we both still stared forward.

I nodded at her truthful words, letting out a deep breath, "I just... you know I don't want anything serious right?" I suddenly asked, wondering if that's what the issue was here.

"Liberty," Dr. Leclair suddenly let out a soft sigh, and I could feel her glance over to me, "It's not about that."

I nodded a few times, still staring forward, "And like I won't tell anyone," I added, hoping to at least get her to discuss the idea of this with me.

"I'm aware," Dr. Leclair said, her stare burning into the side of my face.

"It doesn't even have to happen more than once, we could just..." I trailed off, wanting to use the word fuck, but I knew better with her, "We could sleep together and then let it all go."

Dr. Leclair was silent for a moment, making my heart tick impatiently in my chest.

I wondered if this was it.

If she would finally just give in.

"It can't happen, Liberty."

Her words made defeat sink inside me, suddenly realizing that I'm seated in her car after I said I was done.

I'm still chasing her after I said I was through.

How did I get here?

And why do I want to stay?

"But you're referring me. I won't be your patient anymore," I pointed out, knowing that made a difference.

It had to.

"That's not the only factor here, Liberty," Dr. Leclair said, her focus still pinned on me, "This is more complex than that."

I furrowed my brows, turning my head to finally meet her blue eyes.

Her words were always so confusing.

Like no matter how much she gave you, you always needed more.

It felt like I would never understand her.

"How is it more complex?" I suddenly asked, even if it felt like I should give up.

Like I should just stick to my original determination.

I'll never truly know where her head is at.

"Because," Dr. Leclair suddenly spoke, choosing her next words carefully.

That's when she broke away from my stare, shifting her focus forward.

A tense silence stretched between us as I openly stared at her, my eyes tracing her sharp side profile illuminated by the bright radio screen.

"I have obsessive tendencies, Liberty."

Her words were lowered, emphasizing the importance of how serious she thought this was.

It's like she was telling me to run in the other direction.

I no longer had to tell myself.

Still, I disagreed.

"Okay?" I said, almost confused as to why that mattered.

"As you know, I problem-solve, I don't focus on the problem itself," she spoke again, her eyes still fixed on the city skyline, "Patient or not, Liberty, this can't happen."

I shook my head, "But I don't care," I argued her point, not finding any of this important enough to run in the other direction.

"You should care," Dr. Leclair insisted, glancing over to meet my stare again.

"But I don't," I pointed out as I unbuckled my seatbelt, turning to face her fully, "I want this. I don't care about anything else. Not even myself."

Dr. Leclair's lips parted slightly with a small scoff, "Do you hear yourself?" she asked, her stare not wavering from mine, "Anyone else would take advantage of this. They would take advantage of you."

"So why won't you?" I asked her, frustration coating my tone as my brows furrowed deeper.

She's so frustrating.

I could tell her anything, and still, it would be her way.

"Because I'm not willing to give you what you think you want, Liberty," Dr. Leclair said, facing forward again with a deep sigh.

Another silence settled between us as I stared at her for a moment, processing how heated it had grown around us.

I leaned back against my seat with a dramatic huff, staring forward at the shimmering skyline.

Maybe I should just give up on this.

She's obviously not going to give in for numerous reasons—it was never just about me being her patient.

Obsessive tendencies.

What does that even mean?

She made it sound like a true diagnosis.

Like it was genuinely a part of her.

But I didn't care—even if it was a one-time thing or those tendencies reflected onto me.

That's how badly I wanted something, anything from her.

I'll take anything she gives me.

"Liberty," Dr. Leclair calmly spoke when I reached for her hand, her words holding a clear warning behind them.

But she didn't pull away.

She let me grab her hand.

It was weird to touch her—to feel the softness of her skin under mine.

My chest lifted and fell with each breath I took, slowly guiding her hand over the middle console.

I didn't want to move too fast and risk scaring her off.

So I took my time, my hand wrapped around hers—fingers pressed softly against her palm as I guided her.

And she let me guide her, allowing me to lower our hands and rest against my upper thigh.

I felt stiff with anticipation, staring at her side profile as her hand rested strictly where I left it.

She didn't move an inch.

"One time," I whispered, my hand resting against hers. I couldn't believe I was even trying again, but I just couldn't give up yet, "Touch me, one time," I said, saying it properly rather than asking her to fuck me.

My words came out harsh—they sounded like a demand.

I was unsure if Dr. Leclair would give in to that.

And I was proven right when she pulled her hand away entirely, leaving mine all alone on my thigh.

Defeat struck me, determining that was it.

I would have to let this one go.

And not say I will—and then end up in a car with her.

This one genuinely needs to be given up.

I just don't want to give up.

Why does this have to be so complicated?

I glanced down when she suddenly reached for her seatbelt, smoothly unbuckling it.

The click sounded and she turned to me, reaching her left hand over the console rather than her right one.

My breathing grew quicker—more breathless as she carefully guided my silky skirt up, holding my stare the entire time.

Our breaths mixed together, the air growing heavy with this heat that surrounded us.

Her touch was soft, grazing the smoothness of my thigh as she adjusted my skirt.

"Close your eyes," she instructed, her stare not wavering from mine as she waited for me to listen.

My body obeyed her before my mind even caught up.

Darkness surrounded me.

Then the sensation of her touch—it was light and barely there, her fingers grazing my thigh like she was testing me.

Maybe even testing something between us.

I inhaled sharply, but I didn't speak.

I was afraid that if I did, if I so much as breathed the wrong way, she'd stop.

I couldn't even believe this was happening in the first place.

But as soon as I felt her touch against my thigh again, I knew.

I knew this was happening.

The shockwaves running through my body, the goosebumps, and shallow breathing—this was all happening.

And regardless of what she thinks, I'm more than ready for it.