That was the last thing she heard him say before he drifted off to sleep. Her name rolled off his tongue, as if it was the natural thing to do.


She had been having a bad day. Against her better judgment, she had agreed to offer council to a young married couple, as a favor to a friend. Had she known what she was getting into, she would have never said yes. She had sat in her office with the couple for two and a half hours, playing referee. At one point, she had to grab a heavy book from the missus' hands before it came into to contact with her screaming husbands head. "These people are fucking crazy," she thought as she mediated between them. The wife was a high-strung woman and had no patience for her husband. She was petite with small features, her dark brown hair glued into a constant bun. She was as harsh as her name, Agatha. It didn't roll pleasantly off her husbands tongue, instead, each time he said her name it seemed to come from somewhere in his throat. If "opposites attract held true," Agatha and her husband, Isaiah, were a perfect example. Where Agatha was fiery and short-tempered, Isaiah was calm with a demeanor that reminded Amelia of ripples on a calm, cool pond. His rich dark complexion reminded her of the calm of night. Everything about him was roughly serene... expect for his eyes. Amelia sometimes felt entranced by them, but kept her thoughts to herself... he was after a married man... even if it was to a she-devil.

"You never fucking listen to me!" Agatha screeched from her side of the couch. She flailed her arms widely about her. Isaiah opened his mouth but she cut him off again.

"See! You see what I mean Dr. Davis! If he were listening it wouldn't take him so long to answer!"


Isaiah said nothing in his defense. He sighed and raised his hand to rub his temple. 45 minutes in and Amelia could not stand his wife; she wondered how he dealt with her for 3 years. Agatha dominated the session. She ranted without breathing, stopping only to gesture in his direction in frustration.


"Dr. Davis."

He stepped closer to her as she stood in front of the bookcase. She had hurriedly grabbed books from her desk and was placing them on the shelves to avoid making eye contact with him. Over the weeks, she had caught herself staring at him more and more. Once, while Agatha was letting out her usual rants about this weeks disappointment, Amelia caught herself staring at him, she had grown to admire him. Not once during their sessions had he retaliated against his wife, except a few times to scream at Agatha to keep her voice down. He simply said nothing, but not in a defeated manner. He was no punk, it was apparent. He knew his wife was impossible, that in 3 years she had thrown away everything they could have had for the image of a life she couldn't afford. That was her issue. She had high-class needs when she refused to do anything to obtain them. That responsibility she placed squarely on Isaiah's shoulders; broad, strong shoulders. To Isaiah, the sessions were a last attempt.


She stepped away from the sound of his voice.

"Hi, yes, I found your wallet, it's on the corner of my desk." She listened intently as he walked over to her desk and retrieved it.


"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. I'll see you again next week." Her back was still towards him but she turned around to give a quick wave and smile she hoped didn't look as nervous as she felt.

"Amel- "

"Give my regards to Agatha," she said cutting him off.

"I will. Goodnight."

She heard him turn and head towards the door. His hand was on the doorknob. The springs clinked as he turned it. He heard her sigh as the door opened, and stopped.

"Lia." She was not expecting him to call her that. She turned to face him, walking to her desk to put something between them. WHY AM I SO NERVOUS? HE IS JUST A CLIENT.

"Yes?" She answered trying to sound as calm as possible while internally she panicked. HAD HE CAUGHT ME STARING AT HIM DURING ONE OF THE SESSIONS? SHIT. I BET HE KNOWS. HE IS A MAN. HE HAS PROBABLY NOTICED IT. SHIT. DOES HE?

"The last few weeks..."

FUCK. HE KNOWS. Her palms instantly became sweaty. "Yes?"

He halted his sentence and instead began to cross her office. He seemed to move in slow motion. Her body was frozen in place. If he had paused for a second, hesitated for half, she would have snapped out of it, but he didn't. His stride was confident. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, HE'S NOT STOPPING. She felt like a girl with a crush. The man was doing nothing but walking over to her.

"You're not a fucking teenager!" she screamed to herself, "Get a grip!"

In 2 seconds, she had managed to calm herself down, until he was standing face to face with her. Her composure went out the fucking window.

"Isaiah, wha- what are you doing?" she stuttered. He stepped closer to her. He seemed to tower over her. She was 5'5'' and barefoot at the moment; he was 6'2''. She had to crane her neck upwards and up close, she could better see his eyes. They were the color of melted milk chocolate, swirling with gray; his eyes were mesmerizing and they paralyzed her. His eyelashes were long and seemed to curl in every direction, perfectly framing his eyes.

He placed his hand on the small of her back and gently pulled her into him. Her eyes widened as she saw him lowering his head, moving it closer and closer to hers. "Isaiah!" She unintentionally shouted his name. He stopped his approach abruptly and removed his hand from her back. She took a few steps backward and stammered that he should leave.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..."

"I'll just see you next week."

"Right. Goodnight"

She did not move until she heard the door click behind him. She had not realized she was not breathing either until she let out a heavy sigh.


Lusting after a married man was one thing, kissing him was another. Thanks to Amelia's general cowardliness and morally enforced upbringing, the latter was out of the question.

That night she couldn't sleep. She kept replaying the scene in her office in her mind. It was nothing big but the thought of finally feeling his lips wouldn't leave her alone - it had been a couple months since any part of her received any attention from a man. WHY DID I STOP HIM? "Lia, you idiot" she grumbled as she turned onto her side, forcibly tucking a pillow between her legs. IT WAS JUST A KISS. She toyed with the idea of a kiss in her mind... an idea that somehow grew into more. "Get a grip!" It was bad enough she fantasized about him when his wife was 2 feet away. She pulled her hand away from her inner thigh and tucked it under her pillow. There was no use getting worked up before bed.

Days past and she pushed him out of her mind and went back to her normal thoughts, until Tuesday. Tuesdays she counted the hours. She watched the clock. Tuesdays she sat in her chair, assumed a neutral demeanor, and tried to help Agatha and Isaiah work through their problems, well, Agatha's problems, while she fantasized about being worked by him. She had just finished up with a client and had 30 minutes to herself before the couple would arrive. She took out a book and crossed her legs on her desk. Her door was still open and her chair was facing the window so she didn't see when he walked in.

He cleared his throat and she spun around. There was no use hiding the look of surprise on her face. "Isaiah."

"Hi, Agatha said she is running late, but it'll be about an hour before she gets here, she told me to ask if we could still keep our appointment." His hands were casually tucked into his jean pockets. Amelia had trained her eyes to quickly scan him and she did.

"An hour?" AN HOUR ALONE WITH HIM! I'M NOT READY FOR THIS! WOULD HE TRY SOMETHING ON ME AGAIN? SHIT. "Yes, we can wait for her. We'll take the time to talk about your perspective."

He nodded and sat down in his usual spot on the couch.

She grabbed her notepad, pen, and sat across from him.

"So" She said smiling shyly. "How were things this week?"

"Worse. Agatha complains that I don't take these sessions seriously. I do. I would love things to work but... frankly... she's a bitch. It's hard to work with that."

Amelia found it hard to disagree with him. She only had to be around Agatha for 2 hours a week and she couldn't stand her. A part of her felt bad for him.

"Well..." she began.

"It's OK, I know" he responded. Amelia shrugged and gave a quick nod.

Amelia was beginning to feel biased. She wasn't supposed to be taking sides but here she was wondering how a woman could just be so damn mean... but then again, she knew nothing about Isaiah. She couldn't think of anything neutral to say. In 5 years of dealing with far worse clients, her lust for Isaiah made her professionalism fly out the window. She was just about to open her mouth to say something, anything, to cut the awkward silence when he spoke.

"I've noticed," he said as a slow smile spread across his face. She wasn't expecting him to smile and it unnerved her. His teeth were amazing.

Her mouth went dry. WHY AM I SO NERVOUS! I'M NOT A FUCKING TEENAGER. "What have you noticed?" She regretted asking before the last word left her mouth.

"The way you look at me. Your eyes say a lot. You're quite brave actually. Week after week you sit 2 feet from my wife with those same eyes." She felt a knot form in her stomach.

"I don't know what you're referring to," she said trying to plaster the most convincing face she could muster on her face.

"Really?" he smirked. His eyes seemed to stare straight into her and past her lie. "I don't believe you... and I don't think you believe yourself." He paused to smile more broadly. Amelia hadn't realized how much more handsome his smile made him. It made his cheeks tuck back in a sexy, rough, and reassuring way she had never seen before. "Lia... I'm not blind."

She gathered herself. She had to make him stop talking, even though she felt it wasn't a battle she could win. "Blind, maybe not, imagining things for your own self pleasure, maybe." She didn't return his smile and instead stared back into his eyes trying to push her weak and fleeting sense of confidence across the room.

His smile faded and he squinted at her. Maybe he was trying to see through her words and through her mask, but somewhere behind her, her cell phone vibrated giving her an escape.

"Excuse me a moment." Amelia practically ran to her phone, making a mental note to thank who ever it was calling for saving her. She bent over behind her desk fumbling through her pursue trying to find her phone before voicemail picked up; she didn't realize that Isaiah had got up and followed her.

She jumped when she felt the heat from his body so close to hers.

"I don't believe you," he whispered into her ear.

The feeling of his warm breath made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Scared to turn around she clutched the cell phone in her hand and stared at her office door. Isaiah raised his had and lightly grazed her neck with the tip of her finger. She closed her eyes and focused on his slight touch against her skin. His other hand closed around her wrist, the heat from his hand seemed to burn into her. He used his grip on her wrist to turn her around. He smiled when he saw that she had her eyes closed.


She felt her name rubble through his chest. His voice was deep and seemed to roll through him when he spoke. Up close she could feel the vibrations spill into her body. She inhaled and was filled with his scent. He smelled pleasant and well, like a man. His scent was warm and inviting. It made her want to move closer and bury her face in the fabric of his clothes and inhale until he completely filled her.

"Isaiah," she finally remembered she could speak. "What are you doing?"

"Me?" he replied, smiling again. "I'm proving you wrong and maybe confirming something for myself." Just then something flashed in his eyes that Amelia hadn't seen before during the sessions. It was asking her to respond, willing her to act. It knocked against the wall she had tired to build, a wall that was nearly erased the moment she felt his warmth on her skin.

She took a big gulp. He chuckled. "Confirming? What's there to confirm?"

"That you don't want me to move away." He moved in closer. She was now pinned between her desk and him. She was corned and the pressure from his body was making her weak. He raised his arm and placed his hand on her waist. She let out a sigh that could have passed for a moan.

SHIT! WHAT DOES HE WANT ME TO SAY? OF COURSE I DON'T WANT YOU TO MOVE? THAT I'VE THOUGHT ABOUT BEING THIS CLOSE TO YOUR BODY FOR WEEKS? Amelia's thoughts screamed in her mind. Part of her couldn't help but think she was imagining Isaiah's broad chest inches from her face. "But your wife would want you to move away" was the only thing she could spit out. FUCK... IF ONLY HE KNEW...

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