The Submission Sessions

Evernight
Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright©
2014 Teri Fowler

 
ISBN: 978-1-77130-721-5

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor:
Karyn
White

ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
copyrighted work is illegal.
 
No part of
this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written
permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are
fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

THE
SUBMISSION SESSIONS

Shades of Love, 3

Teri Fowler

Copyright ©
2014

Chapter
One

Kerri
Robertson pushed open the heavy glass street door and walked in to the stark
yet modern foyer of an office in New York's Lower East Side.
 

"Do
you have an appointment?"

She
turned around to find a tall, willowy receptionist crossing the foyer to greet
her, wearing the kind of polite yet disinterested half smile that everyone in
her profession seemed to have perfected. Kerri straightened her spine and
raised herself to her full five feet four, hoping that the simple black shift
and matching peplum jacket she'd chosen to wear that
warm
autumn day actually looked as nice on her curvy frame as she thought.

"I'm
here to see Sebastian March."

The
receptionist led her to a seating area through a door off the main hall and
offered her a coffee, which Kerri refused, then seemed to glide off again in
the general direction she had appeared from.

Kerri
fingered the thick business card in her jacket
pocket,
the one embossed with the therapist's name and address, and felt the
butterflies in her stomach kick into overdrive. One more time, she questioned
her decision to come.
 

The
internet hadn't provided much in-depth information on the psychosexual
therapist her ex, Benjamin, had tried to force her to visit. How ironic was it that
his attempt at controlling her had inadvertently given her the motivation to
address an issue she'd been ignoring for a long time, but for her own sake, not
his.

The
way he'd tried to bully her into getting some counseling had been the catalyst
for a life-changing, soul-destroying argument powerful enough to end their
relationship forever. He'd called her an ice queen and accused her of being
totally frigid. Ben had even gone so far as to tell her that most women would
kill for a good black man like him who didn't date outside his race. Kerri had lost
her cool then and told him to go ahead and try to find one, and see if he could
manage to get her off, because he'd never been able to do it for her. He'd
sneered in her face and told her that the other women he was seeing had no complaints.
Kerri decided she'd heard enough and stormed out of his apartment … but only
after throwing her drink in his smug, arrogant face.

"Miss
Robertson?"

She
turned to find the source of the deep yet gentle male voice that had called her
name. Her gaze landed on a tall, broad shouldered man dressed in a black v-neck
jumper and dark blue jeans, walking towards her, his hand outstretched.
 
A pair of piercing blue eyes met hers, and
his handsome face split in to a warm, panty-melting smile that wouldn't be out
of place on the cover of the magazine she worked for. He even had a tousled
mess of short, dark hair, the kind that always made her think of sex because
the owner looked like he'd just finished taking a tumble between the sheets.

His
large hand clasped hers, the warmth of his flesh seeping into her chilled skin
as his eyes seemed to lock with hers. Kerri got the distinct impression that he
was trying to read her secrets as he stared down at her without speaking for a
nerve racking second or so.

 
"Hello. It's a pleasure to meet you.
 
I'm—"

"Please
tell me you're not the therapist."
 
She hadn't meant to cut him off mid-sentence but, damn!
 
Why does
he have to be so gorgeous?

His
dark brows knitted in confusion for just a moment, bunching low over his almost
aquiline nose and totally changing his appearance. He was still just as
devastatingly handsome, but now he looked a little menacing, and Kerri got the
distinct impression that it probably wasn't a good idea to tangle with him if
he was ever in a bad mood.

"Yes,
I'm Sebastian March. Is that a problem?"

Heat
crawled up her cheeks, and she realized he still had hold of her hand. Kerri
slipped it out of his and shoved it in her pocket to finger his card again,
nerves getting the better of her.
 
"Oh, no.
It's not a problem at all. I just expected
someone … older, I guess."

He
smiled again, and Kerri felt herself relax a little. "Don't
worry,
I'm probably quite a bit older than you, Miss
Robertson. What are you?
 
Twenty-five?"

"I'm
thirty. But thanks for the compliment."

He
gestured towards the open door across the hall. "Well, I'm thirty-five. Is
that old enough for you?"

The
gentle tease made her smile, and she followed him without further comment or
complaint as he led her into his office. Once more, she didn't find what she
expected. The room was plush and comfortable, in stark contrast to the foyer.
Plump leather sofas scattered with cushions faced each other in the center of
the room, forming a seating area with a fireplace at one end and a large, sunny
window at the other. She looked for the chaise longue she thought she might
find in a therapist's office, or the high backed leather chair she'd imagined
him sitting in, but besides a few plants, a small table at the end of each
sofa, and a thick sheepskin rug lying on top of the polished wooden floor,
there was no more furniture in the room. It felt more like someone's home than
it did a surgery of sorts, but she guessed that was the point.

A
man sized indentation in the cushions of the sofa farthest away from her made
it obvious that it was the one Sebastian usually sat in, so when he asked her
to take a seat, she chose the other.

"Make
yourself comfortable, Miss Robertson. Or can I call you Kerri?"

"Please
do."

"Can
I get you anything to drink?"

She
shook her head as she perched on the edge of the seat and placed her bag on the
floor beside her feet.

Sebastian
chuckled under his breath and flopped down on to the sofa opposite.
 
"Try and relax a little. You look like
you're interviewing for a job."

"Sorry."
 

There
was no way she could ever be as relaxed as he seemed to be. She watched,
speechless, as he slipped off his loafers and let his bare toes sink in to the
plush fur rug.
God
, she envied him.
She'd never been comfortable in her own skin, even when she was alone.
Sebastian grinned over at her, his eyebrows raised as if waiting for her to
follow his lead. There was little to no chance of that happening, but Kerri sat
back in her seat and undid the button on her jacket as a compromise. His grin
slipped a little, and his eyes narrowed while he studied her silently, and she
got the sense he didn't need to be told that relaxing didn’t come easily for
her.

Sebastian
went through some routine stuff with her regarding his contract and what she
could expect from him including details of his fee, guaranteed confidentiality,
and a code of conduct he expected his clients to adhere to that required mutual
respect between them and the therapist. Only half of what he said sank in.
Kerri was having trouble keeping her attention off the biceps straining the
fabric of his cashmere sweater each time he ran a hand through his hair, which
was about once a minute.

"So,
where shall we start? Do you want to tell me a little bit about yourself?"

A
deep, cleansing breath did nothing to calm the butterflies in her stomach, but
she ploughed on anyway. "I'm an editorial assistant for a magazine on
Madison Avenue. It's hard work but interesting and fun. No kids.
Haven't met the right guy yet.
Large
family.
Parents live close by. I rent a small apartment a few blocks
from work where I live with my cat."

Sebastian's
wide mouth set into a firm line as he picked up a pad and pen from the table
next to him and scribbled something down before turning those piercing blue
eyes on her again. "That's what you are, not who you are. Tell me
something about yourself that might surprise me."

His
question caught her off guard. "Oh, wow. I don't know that anything I can
tell you would surprise you, Sebastian."

The
dazzling grin was back, along with a distinctly mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Go on, Kerri.
Try and shock me. I dare you."

The
soft husky edge to his voice and the twinkle in his eyes made her think of sex
again. No wonder he'd chosen this profession. Just a few minutes in his company
probably made the average woman as horny as hell. But she wasn't the average
woman. And he didn't make her feel horny.