Intense by C.M. Steele

Chapter Five

Roman

I stayed and listened to them even though I probably shouldn’t have because I sure as fuck didn’t like what I heard. It’s cute that she thinks he’s ever going to approach her again. Fuck, he has another thing coming. I fucking seethed as she smiled at her phone, wondering what the hell was so fucking special without coming off as a jealous boyfriend. I’m neither jealous nor her boyfriend.

A part of me knows I’m only lying to myself, but I can’t fall into that trap. I couldn’t stop myself today, could I? I pressed her onto the cold surface as I teased an orgasm out of both of us, leaving my seed close to her womb. The only thing stopping it from making my baby is her barrier. I wanted to stuff my cum inside of her. It’s insane how territorial she’s made me. Even more of a reason to stay away. I’m losing my mind. Amelia’s making me want more in life than work, and that’s dangerous territory.

In all these years, I never learned to trust women. I lived with one woman for twenty-three years, and she’d pushed me so far away from liking women that I hated to even be around them, which sucks because women make up fifty percent of the population, so I pretty much became a recluse. I did what I could to never hire a woman until the day I walked into that party and reunited with my father. Years wasted, hearts broken, trust destroyed—all for a selfish woman.

Now, Amelia enters my life and she’s not selfish—at least not with her body when it comes to me. She gave me what I needed even though I’d been cruel. I shouldn’t even be allowed near her, but she gave in as if she couldn’t resist the pull either. “Staying away is the best thing for me,” I say as I pull onto the tarmac.

The flight home is a long one, filled with doubt and a pain in my chest that I can’t explain. My head throbs by the time I land in New York where my driver is waiting. The ride to my home only adds to the ache in me. As soon as I exit the car, my driver goes to get my bag, but I don’t need the help; I need to be alone.  “Have a goodnight, Johnson.”

“You too, sir.” He nods and climbs back into the car and drives off. I enter my secured lobby and head over to the private entrance to my personal elevator. Many don’t know it’s here intentionally.

I step inside and punch in my code. The door closes, and I’m alone. It’s been several hours since I saw Amelia, and I want to see her again. I shoot a text to the man I hired back in Madison to keep an eye on her until I return.

The sound of the ding drags my attention and I enter my penthouse. It feels cold, lonely, and for the first time, I hate coming home. I have to make do, though. I can do this. I can push her out of my head for the rest of the week. Just as I make that resolution, my hired security calls. “Mr. Edwards, she had lunch with her mother, then she went home with no added movement.”

“Okay. Thank you.” 

I go into my bedroom and pass out on the bed. Tomorrow, I’ll feel better. Tomorrow, I won’t be obsessed. It’s only because she makes me horny. She’s forbidden. The lies pile on, but by morning I know that none of it is true because as soon as my eyes close, I see her face.

****

I enter my office first thing in the morning and carry on with my schedule, doing my best to push thoughts of Amelia away. That lasts until lunchtime when my assistant comes in and hands me some documents I’d filled out for the acquisition.

“Are you okay, sir?”

“Yes, why? What’s this about? Did I miss a signature?”

“No, but you left a sticky note on page three.” I flip it open, and there’s where I handwrote Amelia Edwards with a fucking heart. Holy shit. What’s wrong with me?

“Sorry.” I peel it off and toss it in the trash.  

“You need a therapist. Whoever she is, she might be the one to make you happy.”

“I should fire you for that.”

“Yeah, well, I could have sent that out as is and you’d look like a lovestruck fool, or maybe Mitchem would find this Amelia and steal her for himself. He is a bit of a womanizer.”

“He can’t have her.” She just stares at me with that I-told-you-so look. “Do you know where I can find a therapist?”

“I’ll get you a number today.”

“Make it your priority.”

“I will. And I can’t wait to meet her.”   She smiles before turning and walking out of my office with a pep in her step.

I swipe open my phone and check out her images. God, she’s gorgeous. “What am I going to do about you?” I whisper, staring at her sweet smile.

By the end of the workday, Inga has scheduled me a six-thirty session with Dr. Russell Eames. Luckily it’s only a mile from the office, so my driver makes it there with good timing. After passing the security check, I’m led to the bank of elevators and told to go up to the fifth floor. My palms are sweaty, and my heart’s racing so much that I’m tempted to turn back around and say fuck it. Then, Amelia’s face comes into my mind. I need to be a better man for her, even if she wants nothing to do with me.

I enter the main lobby where a woman sits at her desk. “Hello, I’m here to see Dr. Eames.”

“Yes, you must be Mr. Edwards.” I nod. “Please have a seat. He’s finishing with his last patient, and I need you to go over these. Your assistant emailed them over, but we need for you to verify the information is correct and that you understand your rights as a patient.”

“Thank you.” I take them from her, chanting Amelia’s name in my head to keep myself seated and not bolt out the door. I make it through the forms when a woman comes out followed by the doctor. “We’re still on for next week. Have a good night, Ellen.”

“Thank you, Dr. Eames.” She waves at the receptionist. The man doesn’t address me until the woman has exited the office.

“Hello, you must be Roman Edwards.” I nod, and we shake hands. “Please come in.”

“What about these?”

“Oh, I’ll take those,” the receptionist says. I hand them to her and then step into his office where he closes and locks the door.

"Roman, please have a seat."

I nod and take a seat opposite from his chair and say, "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

"I'm glad to fit you in. Would you care for something to drink?”

“Some water would be great.” He hands me a bottle of water from his cooler and then takes a seat in his chair. “Your assistant said it was urgent. What brings you to see a therapist for the first time?”

"Yes. I have feelings for someone." I’m not sure how these things work. The internet isn’t a lot of help in this area because so much stuff is confidential and every doctor has a different method.

"And...do you care to elaborate?"

"The thing is, I normally don't have feelings for anyone.” I pause for a moment, thinking about my business getting out into the world for someone to use against me. “Everything said here is confidential, correct?"

"Of course. Unless you intend to cause someone bodily harm. It was all in the papers. My assistant will make copies to take with you.”

"Harming? There is one little fuck that if he doesn't stay away from her...I digress. See...I'm a virgin." I don’t think I’ve ever told another soul that before. It’s not something easy to admit, but from the look on his face, he doesn’t seem too surprised.

"Surprising given your age, appearance, and status, but frankly not uncommon. I'm guessing there's an underlying reason for it."

"My mother, or as I prefer to call her, Anna.”

Now it’s his turn to nod. "Well, go ahead and start talking because I have a feeling we’ll need more than a few sessions. I want you to tell me about Anna."

"She's evil, cruel, and a crazy bitch who should be in prison,” I bite out. Again, something I don’t share with others. I avoid personal conversations at all costs.

"Was she always this way, or did she become this woman you detest?"

"She might have always been this way, but it wasn't until I was thirteen that I felt her venom, or maybe I no longer had my shield."

He nods, waiting for me to continue.

I close my eyes and think back on that terribly painful memory. The day itself is semi-distorted because I’d been on some painkillers, but the effects and the words that she uttered were crystal clear. "She took me away from the only man I knew as my dad. She packed us up while he was on a fishing trip. I was supposed to go with him, but I broke my arm falling off my bike. It was our annual trip with a couple of my dad's friends. I was devastated, of course, but by the time he got home, we were long gone. She told me that he had this crazy notion in his head that I wasn't his son and wanted nothing to do with me. From that day, I didn't see him again until I was twenty-three and set in my ways."

"I suppose he didn't say those things."

"Yes. I'm guessing that's a common problem with women."

"Not all the time, but I have seen it before. I'm guessing they had a fight before he left."

"Yes. I heard him say to pack her shit, but I had no idea at the time what he was telling her. She could leave, but he wanted to keep me even though I wasn't his. He said I'd always been his."

"You had a strong bond with him before she took you away?"

"The best. We played sports, watched the Bears even though we lived in Wisconsin, fished once a week during the summer. Father-son things. It was great."

"Was that all she did, or is there more?" That, in my eyes, had been enough, but I know he wants all the facts on how I’ve become the man I am.

"More. I learned the truth of my parentage a couple of months after she took me away. She lied about being pregnant, and that's why my father married her. She had been cheating on him with a married man, and he's the sperm donor. We moved away and she changed my last name to his, attempting to get him to leave his wife."

"Did he?"

"No. He didn't have to. She mysteriously died."