Promptly Friday- Self Help October 30, 2009

So I’ve decided to take Fridays and abuse… er… use Writer’s Digest’s Zachary Petit’s PROMPTLY blog. Zach posts on Mon/Wed/Fri with an idea or prompt (picture or text) for the day. On Friday I will pick one from the week and post my story here. Hopefully you guys will follow along and pitch in with your own versions or feel free to pick-the-hell out of mine… *grin*

Here goes. The prompt I chose this week is (from Wednesday) : “A self-help guru makes you an offer you can’t refuse, no matter how much you’d like to. “

My mind went only one direction with this.  Hope you enjoy. *wink*

 

******

Help me help you! the sign read.
June stared at the stark white board on the sidewalk with its bold dark lettering. Why had she stopped here? She didn’t believe in this crap. After the last one she knew they were all full of hot air and hormones. With a sigh, she shifted to move around the obstruction blocking half the pathway. She glanced in the window and nearly tripped over her own feet. He was gorgeous.
His dark brown hair waved unruly about his chiseled face. Softened only by the sparkling green eyes and smile tipping the corners of his lips. He had a bedroom sexy look that screamed to her long-neglected libido. She knew he watched her too but didn’t move from her spot. She lowered her gaze to check out the rest of the package. What she could see was a navy blue dress shirt molded tight against broad shoulders, muscled chest and arms that would make a woman forget everything when they were wrapped around her–
She barely suppressed the shudder at the last of her thoughts. At that moment, someone jostled past her and grazed her back with their elbow. She cringed at the contact. Her eyes clamped shut as she struggled to get control of her impulse to flee.
“Are you okay?” The deep rumbling voice calmed her nerves enough that she could pry her eyelids apart, only to get caught in the intense gaze of the man from the window.
“Fine.”
His eyebrow lifted at the edge enough to let her know he didn’t believe her. He reached a hand out to guide her toward his office but even the motion without the touch caused her to flinch.
“You’re not fine.” He withdrew his hand but leaned in closer so only she would hear him. “Aphephobia.”
“What?” She couldn’t have heard him right. Most people didn’t know the fear even existed, let alone the clinical name for it.
“Aphephobia. Fear of being touched.”
June studied him for a moment then glanced over his shoulder at the door behind him. And her insides went cold. “Oh. Doctor Jake Turner, Psychiatrist.” The last word dripped with disdain. She couldn’t prevent it. Couldn’t prevent her stomach plummeting to the ground at the lost hope, either.
Both of his eyebrows shot up this time. “Why don’t  you come in for a cup of coffee and explain why my profession causes that tone.”
She shook her head. “Two words don’t require a cup of coffee.” She wished Jake wasn’t so damn good looking. Usually her feet would have carried her away by now, but damn the traitors, they were moving in his direction.
“Which two words?”
“Doctor Malcolm.” Everyone had heard of the superstar doctor that molested his patients.
His entire body hardened at the name. Rage etched his face in stone. Now this is interesting, she thought. He turned his face to look out his window, took a deep breath and returned his gaze to her. “Tell me he didn’t get his god damned hands on you.” Very interesting.
Slowly, she eased into a chair sitting in front of his desk. He remained rigid, rooted to the spot inside his door where he had stopped. She cocked her head to the side, trying to discern his attitude and its meaning. “No. He neglected to find out about my black belt in karate.”
Jake’s lips tipped up in a snarl of a smile. “Good.” Then instead of sitting in his chair on the opposite side of the desk, he propped his hip on the edge directly in front of her. She really wished he would move away.
Her nerves couldn’t decide which set of emotions to run with. The ones that screamed at his nearness and wanted to curl into a ball in the corner farthest from him… or the ones that demanded she jump him right there on the desk. Her cheeks stained red at the visual playing out in her mind. Good God, she needed to get laid. But she couldn’t do that without being touched by something.
He watched her carefully as her breathing grew shallow and her eyes widened. His green eyes turned almost black with the lust building between them. He shifted to adjust for his growing erection. Oh God. He wanted her too.
Jake leaned down and whispered in her ear, “How about you and I work on your phobia.” His voice was husky, filled with the desire evident in his body.
“I– I can’t.”
“Sure you can. You do all the touching. You control the session. I won’t do anything until you tell me to. And I’ll only do what you say.” His breathing was as shallow as hers.
Could she get past this outrageous fear? Did she want to? With him? For him? Those were the questions she needed to answer.

 

*****

Hhm. Me thinks this might be a good start to a book… *copy, paste into future ideas file*