Desperate to contain the inferno, I’d shoved the blanket aside before taking my nipples between my fingers, pinching hard to tame the heat. But the second I touched myself there…

Oliver moved.

With a bite of his lower lip, he took a purposeful step into the room, leaned against the wall, and I’d wondered…

Would this be the night he finally did something?

After what felt like a full minute of silent warfare, he adjusted the bulge in his pants, crossed his arms over his sleep shirt, and settled in like a man prepared to wait forever.

Dr. Price clears his throat, dragging me back to the sterile present, but it’s too late.

He already has a good idea of what I’m thinking.

“Have you orgasmed yet?” he asks, too casual, as if we’re discussing the completion of a project.

“I’d rather not talk about that.”

“Why not? Masturbation is a natural and healthy part of life.”

“It’s also private.”

“I’ll take a simple yes or no, then.”

“Why are you so fixated on this?”

“My approach isn’t conventional, but I’d like to know if it’s working.”

His demeanor is too clinical and composed, and every atom in my body warns me to tread these dangerous waters with caution. Still, the truth breaks loose, unchecked.

“I haven’t been able to.”

“But you’ve tried?”

“I guess I’ve been holding back.” I squirm in my seat, hating the way his questions strip me bare. But once the metaphorical clothes come off, there’s no putting them back on.

“What’s stopping you, Novalee?”

“Oliver.” I swallow my pride and my shame, then forge ahead. “He’s been watching me every night.”

Dr. Price sets his notebook and pen down. “Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“It did…at first.”

“And now?” He folds his hands in his lap, and the energy between us hisses like a viper. “How does it make you feel?”

“Trapped.”

“How so?”

I gaze out the window at the falling snow, dazed by the wintry light of day. “I feel like I’m stuck in purgatory. He hasn’t said a word, and except for last night, he hasn’t moved from my doorway.”

“What was different about last night?”

“I did…something.”

“Please, tell me more.”

“I got his attention,” I admit, flashing back to the large bulge in Oliver’s pajama pants.

“Was that your goal?”

I return to Dr. Price and his dark pewter eyes. A flare of interest transforms his features, vanishing the instant our gazes collide.

Once again, I’ve been playing into his hands this whole time.

“As I told you already, I don’t want to talk about this.”