Therapeutic Relations

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright© 2009

Copyright© 2009

Cover Artist: Shara Azod

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people, or events are coincidental, and if not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

Chapter One

Dr. Takashi Nakamura was a damn good sex therapist. He had helped countless people get over sexual hang-ups, open up to partners, and resist having gratuitous sex with strangers. He could handle a little crush. So why was it all he wanted to do was join his current patient on the crushed velvet divan?

Technically, she wasn’t really his patient; she was his partner and friend. It had been his stupid ass idea for her to talk with him as if she were a patient. That didn’t really mean all the same rules applied, right? Looking over at her as she poured her heart out, his dick hardened to the point of pain. She had no idea how she looked, reclining on the divan, eyes closed, that luscious mouth moving. He was having one hell of a time trying to concentrate on what she was saying, something about her ex-husband, Dave the Dumbass.

Takashi had known Tanya Morris since medical school. Both had decided to go into psychiatry in their third year and had gone through their residency together. If he wanted to be honest, he had to admit he’d always had a little crush, but Tanya had married her high school sweetheart right after graduating from med school. Dave hadn’t made it through med school. He hadn’t been able to keep a job, or keep his dick in his pants. It had taken Tanya five years to see what everyone around her already knew. The Dumbass was dead weight, dragging her down.

Takashi had been there for her when she finally let the loser go. Unfortunately, that had released a mountain load of emotions
he
had been holding back. Now that she was finally free, his psyche let lose all the pent up desire he had harbored for years. Too bad he could never let her know all that, not while she was depending on him to help her rebuild her self-confidence.

“I just don’t feel sexy anymore,” Tanya was saying.

Takashi’s eyes lingered down the soft curve of her body. Did she not have a mirror? At five foot eight, blessed with the perfect hourglass shape, Takashi had to admit Tanya wore it – damn she wore it well. Much to his mother’s lament, he had never been into the petite, tiny figures associated with most Asian women. He was above average for a Japanese American man, standing slightly over six foot two, and he wanted a woman who fit into his arms. Race didn’t matter as much as heart and Tanya had one hell of a heart. Even his mother grudgingly admitted she would be perfect for him. She was together, aside from these self-image issues – compliments of her ex. She had one hell of a head for business, far more than he, despite the stereotype. He would never admit it aloud to anyone other than her, but their practice was such a success because of her business model. If only she could see herself for the sexy, smart, sassy woman that she was.

What he wouldn’t give to stride over to the divan she was currently occupying right now.

He wanted to grab her by the hair, forcing her mouth open to accept his tongue. He wanted to mold his hands over those lovely breasts that taunted him day after day. He wanted to scrape his teeth lightly across those nipples that dared him to notice them through those silky shirts she liked to wear. He was dying to see if her bra was made of lace or satin. Her bras could not possibly be those sturdy padded kind
;
her nipples were way too visible for that. Were her panties thongs, boy cut or bikinis? There were no discernable panty lines, so he was guessing thongs.

There was no doubt they matched of the same alluring fabrics of her bras. She was just that type of woman.

Tanya dressed professionally, but she dressed as a woman proud of her femininity. All too often professional women hid under severe pant and dress suits and sensible shoes. Tanya wore clothes that fit, hugging her curves without being raunchy or suggestive. She wore vibrant

colors and pastels that complimented her rich, dark caramel skin. She looked like a delightful candy confection, and damned if Takashi didn’t want to take a bite. Even now, his mouth watered at the brief glimpse of skin revealed at the base other throat to the swell of her breasts. Allowing his eyes to wander, he slowly gazed once again down the full length of her body. She was wearing a light peach silk shirt with capped sleeves and pastel colored tweed skirt, stopping right above her knees. Her legs were bare, smooth and sleek, and his hands itched unbearably to caress them. Did they feel as soft as they looked? What would they feel like clamped around his waist, or better yet, resting on his shoulders?

“Takashi, are you okay?”

“What?” Damn! He was so lost in his fantasies he hadn’t heard a word she said. Now, she was looking at him with more than a little concern. Had he said something aloud? Surely not. Takashi prided himself on keeping a firm wrap on his emotions. It was one thing that allowed him to play the best friend for so long without jumping all over Tanya. It was the only thing now.

“You moaned,” Tanya told him, eyes wide, sitting straight up. “Are you feeling sick? Or are you tired of hearing me complain? I don’t blame you. I am tired of complaining. I must sound so pathetic to you. Honestly, I should be grateful I found out Dave was a cheating bastard when I did, I mean, before we had kids. I am just feeling sorry for myself. I am not getting any younger and the chances of me, a Black woman looking at forty, and having kids is slim to none now. Especially since I am now a divorcee, I mean, we are good for a meaningless roll in the hay, but no man wants real commitment from a woman like me. Used goods and all.” The words rushed out nervously.

The thing that never failed to both amuse and distract him to the point of madness about Tanya was her tendency to chatter. She could go on and on about her supposed shortcoming for hours. She never talked about others, well except for Dave, but she could bash herself to death for eternity.

The more he thought about it, the madder he got. What the hell was the matter with this woman? She had to be one of the most intelligent, desirable women he had ever met! And pushing forty? She wasn’t even thirty-two! Used goods? Used fucking goods?

Takashi was on his feet and standing over her, looking down with hell in his eyes before he realized what he was doing.

“Damn it, Tanya! This has got to stop!” he thundered before he thought better of it. Grabbing her hand, he placed it dead against his swollen cock, rubbing it around for good measure. “Does this feel like you are undesirable? Like you are used fucking goods? I have been sporting one of these every day since I first laid eyes on you!”

Takashi stopped, looking down at where his hand held hers against his aching cock.

Despite the fact her slender hand felt so damn good, so damned right against him, he could not believe he had lost it as he had. Dropping his hand, he waited for the explosion he knew she was capable of. She might be insecure behind the closed door of his office, but to the world, Dr.

Tanya Morris was something to behold.

To his surprise, she didn’t move her hand. First staring at it and his grotesquely protruding bulge, then she lifted shocked eyes up to his. Her mouth opened several times, but nothing came out. She looked so lost, so…turned on? Takashi was afraid to believe it, but then she moved her hand. Not to move it off him, as he expected, but rather to grip him tighter. She moved back and forth, exploring his length and girth. He knew he was a bit larger than average,

something of a shock to most women he had ever been with.
By all that is good and holy, please, please, please don’t let her be afraid of the size.

Tanya didn’t say a word, but the small, needy moan that escaped from her lips said everything that he wanted to hear. Dropping to his knees brought him face to face with her. He didn’t hesitate to grasp her by the neck, not too harshly, but firmly, and brought her lips to his own. True to his fantasy, his fingers slid into the lush, thick silken strands of her hair, gripping firmly to tilt her head back. Even as his tongue invaded the hot, wet cavern of her mouth, his other hand seized her breast, kneading the round, pliable mounds. Lace. He could feel the texture through her blouse. With a groan, he lifted his head, placing a lingering bite on her bottom lip as he did so.

“If you don’t want this, you have to stop me now,” Takashi growled. “I won’t be able to stop, Tanya. I have wanted you for so long. So long.”

He waited, holding his breath as he did so. He couldn’t bear it if she said no.
Please, don’t let her say no
.

Chapter Two

Tanya couldn’t think. Hell, she could barely breathe. Takashi Nakamura wanted her? It boggled the mind. But Akashi never lied. He was the one person she could depend on to give her the unvarnished truth no matter what, one of the things she loved about him. And there was a lot to love about him. But right now, right now, tall sexy Takashi had one hand going from one breast to the other, rubbing, squeezing, even pinching and twisting her sensitized nipples. Who knew such a little pain could bring such pleasure?

“Answer me, Tanya. Is this what you want?”

Was this what she wanted? He was her friend-her best friend. She shared everything with him. She couldn’t very well come into the office tomorrow morning and tell him all about the wild night in the office of her friend. This might ruin their relationship.

When she didn’t answer, he buried his face in her neck, nibbling all the right spots. Oh, sweet heavens she just couldn’t think clearly. She wanted this. Hell, she needed this. Every touch made her feel desirable, and she hadn’t in so very long.

“Yes.” She was afraid to utter her answer in much more than a whisper. If she said it too loud, she would have to admit to herself what she was doing. She would have to face that she was about to sleep – no, fuck, her best friend. Then she would have to admit this was not the first time the thought entered her mind. She would have deal with the fact she had lusted over Takashi for years, and that she creamed just a little every time he smiled that crooked half smile of his.

Before she could blink, she found herself flat on her back, her shirt open. She felt the cool breeze of the office air conditioning caressed her exposed flesh, puckering her nipples even further. They were so erect it was painful, the hypersensitive points rubbing against the suddenly

too tight lace of her bra. Takashi hadn’t moved. He crouched over her, transfixed at the sight of the darkened areolas against the pale peach of her bra. It was a little quirk of hers to wear lingerie to match her outfits. She had never told anyone about that, but Tak wouldn’t need to be told. He knew her well enough to notice things like that. She shivered at the thought. She knew every time he looked at her from this moment forward he would be imaging what she wore underneath. Her panties got just a little bit damper. What an erotic thought.

His eyes didn’t leave her bosom, even as he removed his shirt. His chest was beauty. All finely sculpted with well-defined abs and not a trace of hair. She watched as he threw the shirt, heedless of where it landed, and then carefully placed his chest against hers. Nothing could stop her moan as he slowly stroked his chest against hers, increasing the friction to her poor nipples. She wanted to get closer, with nothing between them. He must have felt so too, because he began to frantically remove her clothing. Taking his lead, her fingers fumbled with his belt and the closure of his slacks.

This was really going to happen!
It was unbelievable. Sexual tension that had simmered just beneath the surface, always there but never acknowledged burst forth, making the air thick and sultry. Every nerve ending in her body felt as if they were just coming to life, electrifying her skin, heightening her senses. Once the clothes that had stood between them were gone, Takashi stopped again, leaning back too far for her to touch him. When she tried to get up, just to pull him down on top, he pinned her arms above her head on the arm of the divan.

Every movement she made to get closer, to just touch him skin to skin, caused her to rub against the soft velvet of the divan. It was like a massive soft, yet firm feather was stroking her backside, driving her out of her mind with need. When she arched her body, he simply moved his body higher, out of reach. Why wouldn’t he touch her? Was he driving her crazy on