“I wasn't aware you were a psychiatrist too.” He was either a lot smarter and more observant than I'd given him credit for. Or he was a damn good guesser. Those weren't even observations Mindy or Adelle had ever made, though Adelle had gotten close.
“Take off your clothes.”
It was abrupt, but at least that was a command I'd been expecting. I took a step toward the doorway I assumed led to the bedroom.
“Where are you going?” Cade asked.
“The bedroom?”
“I didn't say to go anywhere.” He walked over to the burgundy love-seat on the far end of the room and sat down in the middle. He stretched his arms along the back of it, assuming a relaxed pose. “Take off your clothes. Slowly.”
I shrugged out of my jacket and slipped off my shoes. Those were the easy ones and I took my time. This was too similar to our previous encounter and I didn't want it to be.
“Imagine the way you want to be undressed,” he said as I started on my blouse buttons. “The way you would want your lover's hands to caress your body over your clothes. Think of the way your body would respond to his touch.”
I was almost finished unbuttoning my shirt and I had no idea what he wanted me to do. Ronald hadn't been the caressing type. Sometimes he'd feel me up over my clothes, but that was generally because we weren't anywhere he could get them off or it was during the process of getting undressed.
“Take a deep breath, Aubree,” Cade said. “Don't overthink it. Listen to your body. If it helps, for right now, close your eyes.”
I closed them. That was better. I couldn't see Cade watching me. My muscles began to relax as I let myself fall into the head space I used when I touched myself. A place where it was just sensation, nothing else. Just me and my fingers; just pleasure. I concentrated on the way the soft cotton felt as it slid off my shoulders, then ran my hands up my sides to cup my breasts. My bra and panties were only plain white cotton, but it didn't matter. My hands moved to my hips, then around to the zipper at my back. I listened to it slide down its tracks, the whisper of the material as I pushed my skirt over my hips. I felt it pool around my ankles and stepped out of it.
“Much better. Now open your eyes.”
Reluctantly, I did as I was told. I started to reach behind me to unhook my bra.
“Not yet,” Cade said. “Touch yourself first.”
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. I wasn't sure which made me more uncomfortable, the idea of touching myself in front of a virtual stranger, or that I wasn't in a bedroom. Maybe it was because it was the middle of the day and the sun was streaming through the thin curtain covering the floor-to-ceiling window.
“Put your hands on your breasts, Aubree.” Cade's knees parted slightly and I couldn't help but notice the way his pants showed off what he had to offer. “Do what you enjoy. Squeeze them if that's what you like. Play with your nipples. Not every woman likes the same things. How will a man know what you want if you don't even know it yourself?”
I cupped my breasts again and gave them a tentative squeeze. When my fingers brushed over my nipples, I felt a tingle of pleasure. I repeated the movement.
“Good girl. Now, touch your pussy through your panties.”
I swallowed hard, but dropped my hand between my legs. The fabric was dry, but as I pressed my fingers against my lips, moisture seeped through. I made a small sound as I rubbed my fingers over the crotch of my panties, the cotton providing a different kind of sensation.
“Take off your bra.”
It joined the rest of my clothes on the floor. This obedience thing wasn't too bad.
“Get your nipples nice and hard.”
I rubbed my fingers over my nipples, feeling the carmel-colored flesh wrinkle and tighten. It didn't take much. I'd always had sensitive nipples.
“Look at me.”
I didn't want to. I didn't want to see his face. The lie of desire, or worse, the absence of anything.
“Aubree.” His voice was sharp. “Look at me.”
I did and there was arousal in his eyes. My eyes burned with sudden tears. I folded my arms over my breasts, everything I'd been feeling vanishing. I didn't want to be here anymore.
“What's wrong?”
There was concern in his voice, but it wasn't a compassionate, tender sound. More like how my basketball coach in high school had talked to me when I'd gotten hurt. I half expected Cade to tell me to pull myself together and get on with it.
“I thought I could do this,” I said. “If I came into it with my eyes open, knowing it was just business, but I can't take the lie.”
“What lie?”
I lifted my chin and forced myself to meet his eyes. “I was okay with not having an emotional connection, but I can't stomach the thought that you're pretending to want me.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Seriously?” He dropped his hand to his crotch and my eyes involuntarily followed. “I'm already getting hard and I haven't even touched myself.”
I hated that he made me so confused. “But Adelle's paying you to want to do this.”
Cade sighed. “I'm going to explain this just once and then you're going to have to make a choice about whether or not you want to be here. Yes, I'm being paid to have sex with you. No, I don't do the whole emotion thing. But that doesn’t means I don't find you attractive. I'm not some ten-dollar hooker who'll do anyone who has the cash. I'm choosy about my clients and I don't take on anyone I don't think I'd enjoy fucking. I don't fantasize about other women to get through a session. When I'm turned on, it's real.”
A rush of relief went through me, chasing away the last of my lingering doubts. His words were sincere, I could feel it.
“Do we have an understanding?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Then slide your hand under the waistband of your panties and touch yourself.” The hand on his crotch returned to the back of the couch.
I kept my eyes on his face as I ran my hand over my stomach and underneath the waistband of my panties. I didn't have to feel ashamed that I found him attractive or worry about what he was thinking when he looked at me. He wanted me, wanted my body. My middle finger slipped between my folds and I found myself wet. I shivered as I touched my clit, little sparks of electricity dancing across the thousands of nerves there.
“Roll your nipple between your fingers.”
A moan escaped as I followed his instructions. The hand between my legs moved faster, falling into the steady rhythm I only used when I was alone. I applied more pressure to my nipple, my body jerking as a jolt of pain went through me.
“Stop.”
I glared at him, but didn't argue.
“Take off your panties.”
I slowly lowered them, enjoying the way his eyes dropped to my breasts as I bent over. When I straightened, I clasped my hands in front of me, not quite covering myself up, but not putting everything on display either.
“You'll find,” he said “that there are just as many preferences for the appearance of a woman's pussy as there are for breast size, hips, and all the rest.” His gaze slowly ran down my body and back up again. “I feel that a woman should choose based on what she enjoys.”
I wondered if he was purposefully taking the time to have these little moments after working me up, just to keep me on edge.
“Did your ex ask you to keep yourself trimmed?”
I shook my head. “We didn't really talk about it.”
“Have you ever shaved or waxed?”
“No.” I'd had my legs waxed once. It wasn't an experience I wanted to repeat, especially on more tender flesh.
“Try it this week,” he said. “Part of what I'll be doing is challenging you to try new things. After all, how can you know what you like if you don't experiment?” He shifted slightly. “Now, come here.”