Shameless (The Therapist #2)

by Ws Greer

  “Interesting,” he says, nodding his head. “While I can totally appreciate that type of brutal honesty, I have to be honest myself. The truth is, Tessa, I think I might actually like you. Like, for real. After we met, I’m pretty sure I thought about you every single day until I saw you at the bar the second time. There's something about you I find very comforting and easy to talk to, and I appreciate that. So, when I asked for your number, it wasn't so I could try to get you in the sack for a one night stand. I wanted your number because I wanted to see where this could go in the long run. So, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to take my time getting to know you. I mean, don't get me wrong, I’m not anti sex or anything like that. In fact, the thought of sex with you is doing something serious in my pants as we speak, but it’s not all about that with me. I’m just interested in you for real. I’m not in any rush for anything specific. When we get to that point, and we will get to that point, I know it’ll be incredible. It’ll be earth-shattering. But I'd like to walk there, not run. Is that cool?”

  Out of all the things I expected Liam to say, I never thought he'd say that. Any other guy would be trying to pay the check right now so we could go get started. Either that, or they'd call me a whore and try to use and abuse me. Not Liam, though. He actually wants to take his time getting to know me.

  I may not have known what I wanted or liked until Brandon dumped me and I went and found my own voice. Everything may have had question marks before, but there's one thing I know for sure now—there isn't a person in the world who wouldn't like everything Liam just said. I don’t have to sow any wild oats to know that I definitely want that.

  I smile an uncontrollably large smile and nod my head. “Yeah, that’s definitely cool.”

  Maintenance

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  ~ Malcolm ~

  Today is a great day. To me, there's no better feeling in the world than knowing a patient feels strong enough to move on in their life without you. It’s monumental because it’s a decision that isn't made by me. This comes directly from the patient, who decides in their own mind that they're ready to continue their lives, using the information we’ve gone over in our time together, and they feel bold and courageous. It’s a proud parent kind of moment.

  Tessa sits in front of me wearing all-black sweats, but nice ones. It’s attire she wouldn't have worn before, because she felt she always had to be at the top of her game when she was with Brandon. He and Judy made Tessa feel like she always had to look her absolute best in order to be taken seriously in this world, which translated to being taken seriously by men. Now, however, Tessa has realized that she's allowed to be as comfortable as she wants to be. She can dress down or up, and as long as she feels beautiful, she is beautiful.

  “So,” I say to begin our session. “You've decided today will be the last time we see each other. I love that you feel confident enough to move on from your therapy, but I’m curious what made you decide you’d like to be finished.”

  Tessa sweeps her hair off her shoulder, and even that movement seems more confident. I swear, Tessa is a completely different person than who I met with her ex, at a time that feels like it was years ago but was only a handful of weeks.

  “Well, I think we’ve covered everything I needed to work my way through,” Tessa says. “Plus, I’m at a place in my life where I don't want to be doing things that are still related to a version of me that no longer exists. I started coming here with Brandon so we could work on our relationship. When he dumped me, I kept coming because I was dealing with remnants of feelings and issues that were directly linked to him. Those remnants are gone now, and I don't want to keep being reminded of them week after week, although I like coming to talk to you. Lastly, I’ve met someone else, and we don't need therapy. I’m not ridiculing anyone who does need to see a therapist, but Liam and I don’t, and hopefully we never will.”

  Tessa giggles, and I smile with her while I nod my head.

  “I couldn't have said it better myself, Tessa,” I say. “I agree with you one hundred percent. You're night and day different from when we met, and I think you're past the issues that first brought you here. I’m also proud to hear you say that you met someone else. Not to get into your business, but may I ask how things are going so far?”

  “His name is Liam Gardner, and he's a lawyer,” Tessa says, her face beaming with pride. “He just opened up his own law firm downtown, and he’s amazing. He’s thoughtful, brilliant, sexy, confident, and so unbelievably gorgeous. I think what I like about him most, though, is that he believes in me. He motivates me to do what I think is best for me, and he supports my decisions. Even more so, he wants to take his time with me.

  “I’d be lying if I said I’m unaffected by the fact that we haven't had sex yet, but I’m cool with it. I love that he wants to slow things down and get to know me, and the more time goes by, the more I want him. It’s almost like waiting is foreplay for us right now. I love it. I learn more and more every day, and the more I learn, the more I like him, and the more I like him, the more I want to be with him in every way.”

  “So, no sex yet,” I repeat, wondering if Tessa is really okay with this setup.

  “Not yet, but it’ll happen soon,” she says, and I don't sense any dissatisfaction in her voice. “It’s like we’re building up this tension, and when it does happen, it’s going to be hot and lustful. Ugh, I can't wait.”

  “Lustful. Key word.”

  “That’s right,” Tessa says behind a chuckle.

  “Well, I think you guys are headed for something special,” I state. “It sounds like you're on the right path, and I’m happy and excited for you. You know what your relationship needs are now, and I think you're strong enough to make sure they're being met by your partner. You're going to do just fine, Tessa. I know it. You made the right decision when you decided to take time to get to know yourself. In fact, I have a little surprise for you.”

  “A surprise?”

  I get up from my chair and walk over to my desk, where I pull a newspaper clipping from my drawer. I bring it over to Tessa and hand it to her. The smile that overtakes her face is brilliant.

  “Oh, my god!” she barks, just before falling into a fit of laughter.

  “Consider it a going away present,” I say with a proud smile on my face. “I saw that in the paper a few days ago and thought you'd get a kick out of it. Apparently, American Armpits was being booed off the stage in Philly, and decided to try to fight some people in the audience. All of the band members—including their manager slash producer, Brandon Stills—were arrested and charged with inciting a riot, and disorderly conduct. They also got their asses beaten by some members of the audience before they were locked into their cuffs.”

  Tessa and I share a laugh at the expense of her ex, and although it’s probably a bit unethical, I enjoy the moment. Brandon isn't a current patient, so fuck it.

  “I just wanted you to see that you definitely made the right decision,” I say after we stop laughing. Tessa’s mouth is still curled into an entertained smile. “Brandon will probably be back in Dover soon, and if you two run into each other, he’ll see that you have moved on and upgraded yourself and your life without him. If he hasn't already realized how much he messed up, he definitely will soon.”

  “Wow, that’s so funny. Thanks for showing me this. I mean, I’ll probably throw it in the trash because I don't ever want to think about him again, but I really appreciate this.”

  I get up from my seat and take the clipping from Tessa’s hands. I let her watch me ball it up and toss it in the trash can behind my chair before I sit back down. “Done.”

  “Well, I really want to thank you for everything, Dr. Colson,” Tessa says. She locks her eyes on me and her face turns serious. “You've been incredible, and I really appreciate all of your support during this chaotic period in my life. You’ve really got a way with words, and you're amazing at making me feel empowered. You're a true feminist, and I think it’s awes
ome.”

  “Feminist? I wouldn't say I'd label myself a feminist. I just think there are a lot of double standards out there that are completely unfair to women. Basically, all I want is for women to be respected and held to the same standards as men. I understand there may be physical differences in size and strength, but morally, ethically, and financially women deserve the same respect as men. To be blunt, men get a pass on a lot of bullshit, and it’s not fair. I just want it to be equal, and I aim to empower my patients to be the change the world needs.”

  “I hate to break it to you, Dr. Colson,” Tessa says, and I can see a laugh ready to erupt from her. “But that’s exactly what a feminist is.”

  “Oh,” I say, fighting back a smile. “Well, then I guess I’m a feminist.”

  The two of us laugh together once again, and my final session with Tessa Milton ends on a perfect high note.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  ~ Malcolm ~

  My life has been a journey, to say the least. I’m a relationship and sex therapist who’s great at giving advice, but not at taking it. I guess that’s fitting. If I had to sit myself down on my own couch and talk to myself, I’d say I have a problem that needs to be addressed as soon as possible, and it has nothing to do with how I treat my patients. It’s all about how I treat myself.

  I know Ava is bad for me, but in the few days since I spoke to her last, I’ve had moments where I felt like I would die if I didn’t have her. I don't mean that in a way that suggests I miss her or love her. When I say I needed to have her, I mean I felt like I was going through withdrawals due to the lack of sex.

  I’m aware I could put myself out there to meet someone new. I could meet a nice woman in a bar in Philly, or drive down to DC for a night on the town, and maybe I could even hook up with someone here in Dover. I’m not above one-night stands, by any means. I know I could still have an active sex life if I wanted to. That’s not the problem. My problem is that it’s Ava I want to have sex with, because nobody fucks the way we did.

  Ava was the perfect submissive, and I’m the kind of man who needs a submissive. I crave the control that comes with it, and I’m obsessed with watching a woman orgasm from my touch. It’s what makes me who I am. I could try to fuck in the vanilla way the majority of the world does, but my dominance comes naturally. Fighting it is like telling myself I don't have to breathe in order to live. I do have to breathe. I do have to be dominant.

  When I see my hard work and expertise paying off in the form of Tessa Milton or Sean Tillman, I can't help but be proud. Therapy helps people in so many ways, and all it takes is for the person to admit they need help and to seek it out. Admitting you need help is almost always the hardest part, and maybe that’s why this is so hard for me.

  Am I an addict? Am I unable to control how badly I crave Ava? It must be the case, because who else would willingly accept all of the baggage that comes with her? Why subject myself to her issues and instability? As her former therapist, I knew her issues were bound to resurface sooner or later, but I went for it anyway. What does that say about me?

  It says I was literally willing to place myself in harms way in order to get what I wanted, and that was sex with my perfect submissive. I was willing to risk things becoming too much for me to handle, and allowed myself to dive in with her, knowing it wouldn’t lead anywhere good. I knew it was never going to be anything long term, and I did it anyway. This is the behavior of addicts. This is how people who need help making the right decisions typically act, and that’s a tough pill to swallow.

  When I reach my driveway, I pull in and put the car in park. Overall, today was a good day. I left my office knowing Tessa would go on and have a great life with her new boyfriend. I’m filled with nothing but hope when it comes to her, and I believe she’s going to do great. My life, however, needs a little maintenance.

  As I climb out of the car, I’m hit with a fresh Dover breeze. The wind gently caresses my face, and I feel at ease as I start towards the front door. The sun is still out, and Delaware has decided to gift us with sixty-degree weather in the middle of February. It’s a good day to self-evaluate and make changes for the better. When I get inside, I know which phone call I have to make. I’m admitting I need help, and now I have to seek it out.

  As I approach the front door, I fumble with my keys before finding the right one. I could’ve just gone in through the garage, but sometimes I like stepping out into the weather and feeling the elements on my face. It’s the small things that tend to make us the happiest.

  As I push the key into the slot, I hear an engine rev up behind me and I instinctively glance back. When I see the car, my heart jumps in my chest, slamming into my rib cage like a deranged mental patient in a padded room.

  It’s a dark Nissan, and it’s a few houses down. It approaches slowly, creeping closer while I stand in front of my door, frozen in place.

  Ava.

  What do I do when Ava approaches me? What do I say? Does she want sex or to set my house on fire like her last boyfriend? If she wanted sex, am I strong enough to turn her down right now? After the week I've had, I’m not sure I’d be able to turn her away if she wanted to go down into the Black House. Damn, I miss the Black House.

  The car moves closer and I feel a little lightheaded.

  Fuck.

  What should I do?

  What will she say?

  How will I respond?

  The Nissan reaches my driveway and I focus my eyes on the driver. I lean forward and squint until I can make out the person. My breath is stuck in my throat as my vision clears, and I realize it’s not her. Ava isn't behind the wheel, and the car keeps on driving right past my house.

  Slowly, my heartbeat dwindles down to its normal pace. My breathing returns to its natural state, and my muscles relax.

  It wasn't her, after all. Maybe she has moved on. There was a part of me that didn't think she would without causing a problem first, but maybe it’s me who needs to do what Ava has done, and move on with my life.

  As I turn around and open my front door, I step inside and plan to leave my addiction to Ava outside with the unusually warm breeze. The door will close behind me, and so will the chapter of my life that included Ava Pierson.

  Tomorrow, I will start anew.

  THE END

  TURN THE PAGE FOR CHAPTER ONE OF THE FALLOUT (THE THERAPIST #3)

  Preview of The Fallout

  ~ Demi ~

  He sits next to me smelling of a masculine, seductive cologne, but the stench of the past is what captivates me. My husband, Eli Lane, is what dreams are made of. He's sexy, a thick one hundred eighty pounds of masculinity and strength. His shoulders are broad, his beard thick, his voice deep and commanding. Physically, he's everything I ever wanted. He’s everything anybody could want.

  “So, what'd you think?” he asks, his mouth lifted into a playful smile, continuing the good mood he's been in all evening. That’s another thing about Eli I’ve always loved. His sense of humor is perfect—an impeccable combination of funny and flirtatious.

  “It was amazing,” I reply, my smile soft and genuine. It’s also forced.

  “Thank you,” Eli says. “It was the least I could do for someone who’s as stunning as you. I love you, Demi.”

  Tears begin to sting my eyes, threatening to breach the contract we’d signed before the evening started saying I wouldn't show how much I’m crying on the inside. I fight them back as I lick my lips and look Eli in his blue eyes.

  “Thank you for dinner. I loved it.”

  It comes out choppy and staccato, but it's the best I can do. I've gotten really good at acting lately, and when Eli leans in to kiss me, I put on another Oscar-worthy performance by tilting forward and pressing my lips against his. Like it doesn't bother me. Like it doesn't feel like a vice gripping my entire body in its jaws.

  “All right, what do you say I get this cleaned up and we cap it off with some wine?” Eli asks. He sounds like he doesn't expect me to say yes, so w
hen I nod my head, his smile is filled with relief and excitement.

  I stay at the glass dinner table while Eli lifts the plates of leftover salmon off and walks them into the kitchen. I watch him go, marveling at how attractive my husband is. I can't speak for every woman, but my guy is stunning, and has been since the moment I met him at a bar here in Rehoboth, Delaware. I was there with two of my girlfriends from the office, and Eli walked in with two of his friends from his job. I remember the moment he walked in because he stood out from the crowd of guys trying to look good. Eli and his crew weren't trying to look good. They were just there to have a drink and blow off some steam, wearing an assortment of flannel shirts and dark blue jeans. His friend’s beards were long and scruffy, but Eli’s face was smooth. The group looked strange, like Eli was the celebrity and the guys with him were his bodyguards. The moment I saw him, I was instantly his, even if he didn't know it yet.

  I remember how they walked in a triangle, with Eli right in the front. He was the point, the leader of the group, and he looked the part. His posture overflowed with confidence, and the way his eyes swept across the bar as he searched for the bartender certainly caught my eye, because as he looked for the bartender, he spotted me. We locked eyes, smiled at each other, and he left his friends behind to come sit next to me. He didn't even order a drink. I was all he saw. He was all I saw. My friends disappeared into the fuzzy background of people and voices while Eli and I talked amongst ourselves, as if life had shined a spotlight on the two of us. We’ve talked every day since then. Every single day.

  He’s still that man. Even now, as he stands over the sink wearing a similar red and black flannel shirt, looking like the posterboy for domestication while he washes dishes after having cooked dinner for his wife. Marrying me didn't change the allure. He’s still unbelievably sexy, masculine, and perfect. He still commands attention.