Psychiatrist's Puppet (Loftry University Playthings 3)

Chapter 11

Chastity

I pull at the collar,not really liking how much it cuts off circulation. It’s not to where I can’t breathe, but it’s almost claustrophobic. If I let myself think about it too much, panic sets in and makes it truly hard to breathe. Every time I look around, someone is staring at me. If it’s not the security guard, it’s Angela. Don’t they understand that I have nowhere to go?

Yes, I ran before, but it’s not like I had any plans. I just wanted to try. Couldn’t they understand? Every movement is calculated to ensure I don’t flash my ass to everyone that walks by. Just thinking about it sends a hot flush to my face. I don’t care as much if Doctor Rayne sees me that way, but not these strangers and certainly not Angela. She saw far too much while she was shaving me and cleaning me up.

It makes absolutely no sense for her to be here. The men, I can understand. They’re guards and probably here for a glimpse of whatever fresh meat the good doctor drags in. My heart clenches for a moment at that thought. It’s not like I care about his past conquests. We’re not at all in a relationship like that. A few orgasms don’t mean anything, and it’s high time I remember that.

I drag the duster along the knickknacks in his sitting room, pointedly ignoring the grisly content. I’ve never met someone so obsessed with brains and skulls. True, they look more like artwork, but it’s still more gruesome than anything I’d been brought up to look at. But then again, the only violence allowed at home was my father putting Melody and me in our places.

Pausing, I slide my finger over a glass chessboard, so out of place with all these macabre items. It looks as if a game is already in progress, and I can’t help but choose a side and study the board. Was I on Doctor Rayne’s side or the opponent’s? From the look of it, both are set up well together; they have similar playing styles.

Bending at the waist, I smile as I move the bishop a few spots, putting the queen in danger. It isn’t checkmate, not yet, but if the other player didn’t do some fancy maneuvering, it would be soon enough. A soft scuffle behind me spikes my pulse until it pounds in my ears. I freeze as the steps get closer. I should know by now that no one will hurt me in this house, yet I still can’t seem to rid myself of these snap reactions.

“Never pegged you for a chess player.” The warm breath changes the panic to something else, something primal. Need floods my body as his arms encircle me to rest on the chessboard. “Interesting move. Are you sure that’s the route you want to take?”

His breath flutters the hair at my ears, sending my blood pulsing again but for a very different reason. “It depends on how you want to die.”

“Interesting way of looking at it.” His fingers tug at the back of my collar, loosening it so he can pull it off. He pulls away, leaving me missing his warmth, his solid surety. I flounder for a moment as he takes a seat opposite me and gestures to the opposing chair. “Please. Sit. I’d love to finish this game.”

“Which side was yours?” My fingers slide up my neck as I rotate my head. Having to hold myself in such a rigid position left me a bit sorer than I realized.

“Couldn’t you tell?”

I shake my head and pull out the chair. “Both people are equally matched. It could be that you didn’t play either. I don’t know who frequents your house.”

He chuckles before unbuttoning his cuff and rolling it up to his elbow. I’m mesmerized by the show of skin, as if I haven’t seen him naked several times by now. “Fewer people than you think. I tend to like my privacy. You were an unexpected guest.” He must have noticed the slight fall of my face because he’s quick to add on. “Not unpleasant, mind you, just not planned for.”

“You plan a lot?”

“For everything.” His voice takes on a serious note, far more than I expected from this conversation. Once again, as with everything in this situation, I feel there are conversations happening around me but not to me.

He slides the queen out of the way, diffusing my move, but just for the moment. I stare at the board, calculating my next move. It’s difficult to shove him out of my brain so I can concentrate, but I make the monumental effort. I move the rook up, taking his pawn. By his face, he thinks he’s won. I can see the victorious smile as he moves his knight into position. He’s going to take the rook, but then, I knew that already. I move one of my pawns and feign a defeated sigh as he takes my rook as anticipated.

“You never fully answered my question. Which side is mine?” His voice breaks the silence, the smug practically dripping from his lips as his smile grows even larger. I watch the front of his shirt stretch as he leans back, threading his hands behind his head.

“That’s because there are too many variables. You don’t seem like a man who would leave a half-finished game, but you also don’t seem like the man who would stage a game just for the looks. It’s not practical. You, by the very definition, are a practical man.” The smile wavers just a touch as I read him as accurately as he’s read me.

“I would guess Angela,” I continue. “But you seem distant, cold. She’s one hundred percent your employee, a boundary that is never crossed by something like a friendly game of chess.” His lips dip even lower as he watches me make my move. “Bishop takes knight.”

He pulls his hands down from their arrogant stance, the knuckles on his hands tightening, turning white as he considers the board. “Bold move. Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

“I play to win.”

“As do I. Queen takes bishop.”

I hadn’t planned on him making that move. It put his queen in danger. Would he really sacrifice her to win the game? I mull over both my next move and the potential player’s. “It can’t be your head of security. He’s fast, but fast doesn’t equal smart. He doesn’t seem the type that will sit down for a leisurely game.” I move my own queen out of reach, opting to retreat for the moment. My king is perfectly safe. There’s no need for a senseless sacrifice.

“You have a keen eye. You are right on both accounts. Pawn takes pawn. Seems like I have you on the run. Just how I like it.”

I shiver at his words. “Bishop takes pawn. Living to fight another day seems admirable. Shame you don’t view it as such.” That seems to get him. He leans back in his chair, eyes pinning me with a dark stare. Perhaps I’m treading in waters I shouldn’t. I don’t even know how I would begin swimming in his depths.

“Run once, and you’ll be running for the rest of your life. Rook takes bishop.”

Damn. I was too busy sizing up the man to pay attention to the game. “Rook takes rook. Check.” His eyes narrow as he studies the board. If his expression is anything to go by, he’s not been paying as much attention either. Now, he has no choice but to run himself or sacrifice another key piece.

“Let’s make this a little more interesting, shall we? Let’s make a bet.” His eyes gleam as he studies me from across the board. My throat constricts as I desperately try to swallow. “If I win, you’ll let me invade that tight, little body of yours. A French kiss. My tongue in your mouth.”

I look at the board again. “And if I win?” That smug smile is back.

“What would you like, my dear?”

The board swims before me as my brain works a mile a minute. A kiss isn’t so bad. A kiss I can do. None of the other men kissed me, so I don’t have a bad memory associated with it. But what could he give me that I would want?

“Can you put me back in your ropes? But -.” I pause. “Nice. I-I rather like being tied up by you.”

The grin grows larger as his brain clicks about. “Deal. Knight takes pawn. Check.”

“Queen takes knight. Check.”

We move our pieces around, the silence deafening in the room. Now that there are stakes involved, neither of us wants to concede any ground. He takes more and more of my key pieces, leaving me desperate. My brain wants to go fast, to end the agony, but I know patience will win out.

I fear hope is lost, and I’ll have to give in and sacrifice my king and, with it, my dignity - what small piece of it is left. Then, he does the unthinkable. Why would he leave his king wide open like that? Does he want to lose? He smiles as I study him. Perhaps win or lose, he’s still winning. It’s just like him to play ten steps ahead.