“I asked you to come. I never said I’d use the moment to take advantage of you or anything else.”
I want to bend you over this desk and f**k you so hard it hurts.
He couldn’t stand up, as otherwise she’d see the evidence of his raging arousal. His desire for her never ceased, and it was starting to really irritate him. He was tired of looking. Watching and not being able to touch was driving him crazy. At the park he’d wanted to tear her jeans off and f**k her. Every chance he got he thought about taking her, loving her, and making her his once again.
Prudence was his, and he didn’t understand why there was this void between them. He couldn’t stop it. Each time he tried to give in to his possessive nature, he stopped, remembering what she’d been through.
“How can I not think you’ve got someone else when you treat me like this? I thought you loved me and you wanted me?”
“I do. I want your safety above all things.”
Tears filled her eyes. He held onto the edge of the desk to keep him in place. If he touched her then they’d both be lost. He couldn’t give her what she needed.
“I needed to see you,” she said.
Her voice went straight to his cock. He wasn’t some teenage boy, and yet his body betrayed him as if it was. Growling in frustration, James pushed away from the desk. He stood and opened his arms. His anger at what was happening between them made him lose control.
“There, now you’ve seen me. I’m alive and living to see another f**king day. Are you happy?” he asked.
“What is going on?” She took a step closer.
“Beats me, baby. I seem to get one step closer to you, and you take one step back.”
She stopped when there was only an arm’s length between them. The distance wasn’t far, but to James it felt like they were worlds apart. He stared at Prudence and saw the woman he loved. She was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The barrier, invisible, separated them from each other and from their happiness.
“I can’t stop this,” he said. “Only you can stop this.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. Even if they called it a day, James knew there would never be another woman for him. There would be women he used to f**k to rid himself from the pain, but none of them would mean anything. The thought of touching another woman made him sick to his stomach.
Cupping her cheek, James rested his head against hers. There was only one thing he could think of that they hadn’t tried.
“I need you to speak with that woman, the psychologist. I gave you her card. I want you to make an appointment to see her.”
She tensed in his arms. He stroked her face and shushed her. “Don’t speak, Prudence. Not now, I need you to listen to me.”
James sensed she wanted to argue with him. She calmed down in a matter of moments, and he kissed her head.
“Make an appointment and talk with this woman. I’m not giving up on us, Prudence.”
“I don’t need to speak with someone.”
“If you don’t speak with this woman then we’re through,” James said. He hated the words but knew they were necessary in order for his woman to find peace.
“You can’t mean that,” she said. Her lips quivered. More than anything, James wanted to give in. He wanted to hold her in his arms and promise that everything would be okay. Instead, he shook his head taking a step back.
“I mean it. Do this for us, Prudence.”
He turned away from her and took his seat back behind the desk. Opening the file in front of him he started marking up the accounts. Ravage was slowly easing back into profit.
Prudence stared at him. He felt her eyes on him while he worked.
“I don’t have her number anymore,” Prudence said.
“Then I’ll book the appointment, and I’ll tell you the time and the date.”
She looked like she wanted to say something else. Within moments he heard the door close behind her, leaving only her scent behind.
Leaning back in his chair, he grabbed the phone while also logging into the security cameras on his computer. Her image came on screen. He zoomed in to watch her finish some water before leaving without her friends.
“Josiah? James Castleden here. Could you give me the name and number of that psychologist woman?”
He jotted down the name and number then hung up. Right at that moment James would do anything to keep their relationship together.
Chapter Twenty
Seeing the therapist
Prue sat in the waiting room and felt like everyone was staring at her. She’d never been to a therapist for anything in her life. The only time she’d spoken to someone like this was with her tutor with regards to discussing her future. She flicked through the magazine wishing the time would pass.
When James called her to confirm the appointment she’d tried to talk him out of it. He’d become firm, and there was no breaking his resolve. Going to therapy to sort out her troubles was foreign to her. She’d never come from money, and her family solved problems by addressing them in a stern but calm manner or by forgetting about them. Someone coughed in the room. The sterile environment put her on edge. Running her fingers through her hair, she stared at the posters on the walls.
James refused to have anything to do with her until she talked to someone about her problems. Four months had passed since she’d been taken. Living at her home grew easier every day she lived there. Spending time with her sister was enjoyable, but she missed the freedom of her old self. She no longer went out with friends apart from the time at Ravage. Once in the last four months was unacceptable. Becky and Anya had been offish with her for some time. She was pleased when she’d entered Ravage that she hadn’t been overcome with a panic attack. Getting on the dance floor had felt like freedom in some way. Prudence feared that Ravage would turn into a kind of hell for her instead of the sanctuary she saw it. When the pictures lost her attention she sat with her hands grasping her seat.
She tapped her fingers against the leather couch then checked her watch. Prue made a note to never arrive early. Sitting in this waiting room for any length of time would have her clawing her hair out in no time.
You’re doing this for you and James.
You can get through this.
The door opened wide, and her name was called through. Grabbing her purse she walked into the room. Eyes followed her, or at least she thought they did. A very thin blonde woman stood by the door. Prue looked at her, wishing she didn’t look like a therapist. The woman’s arm pointed out in the direction of the seats.