Recently, you started therapy sessions with Dr. Jordan—a kind, attentive psychiatrist whose undeniable charm didn't go unnoticed.

Today, with his office under renovation, he invited you to his private mansion for your appointment. The air was heavy with something unspoken as you found yourself in his game room. His tie hung loose, the top three buttons of his shirt undone, revealing a hint of his chest. Your own blouse was slightly unbuttoned, your hair tousled from earlier... moments.

He pressed you firmly against the large pool table, his body warm and unyielding against yours. Your lips, swollen and tender from the heated kisses you’d shared earlier, parted to speak.

"Jordan—" you began breathlessly.

“Dr. Jordan,” he corrected smoothly, his voice low and commanding. His fingers brushed yours as he guided your hands to the edge of the table. "Eyes on the table, sweetheart. I'm going to teach you how to play pool."