Lust

by Leddy Harper

  Fucking Alyssa proved not to be the solution. I managed to stay in it without letting my thoughts veer off course too much to the path where a certain blonde with extreme intimacy issues existed, but that didn’t mean that I hadn’t conjured her up in my mind every time I closed my eyes while sinking balls deep into Alyssa. But she didn’t need to know that. And as promised, I talked to her when we were done.

  I had been strong the entire time, not letting it show how much Ivy had affected me. But sitting on my patio with a stiff drink and answering Alyssa’s rather invasive questions, I gave into the weakness and opened up, telling her where my mind was at… well, mostly. I was so desperate for answers that I opened up and talked to someone other than Doctor Klaussen. That was yet another first for me.

  “I just feel like I need a change, you know? I mean, I do find it important to help people overcome sexual issues, but what if I can do more to help people? Why can’t I do both? Why can’t I help people overcome the issues of their past that’s keeping them from being sexual? Most of the time, their problems are because of things that have happened to them, whether it be they were teased in school or an uncle was a little too handsy with them. I can help them overcome those, deal with it, and then move past it. And by doing that, they could experience a healthy sex life. Why do I have to pick one or the other?”

  “Because, Cade, if you go into what you’ve often referred to as bland therapy, you won’t be able to sleep with your clients. You’ve said a thousand times that you can’t treat them without touching them. How could you do both if you can’t touch them?” she asked, throwing my words back in my face like a bucket of cold water.

  I thought about it quietly, watching the moon reflect off the still water of my pool. My frustration grew the more thought I put into it. She was right, but I had been right, too. I could do both; it would just take some sacrifice. I knew all about sacrifice, had been doing it for most of my life, but was this something I wanted to choose either or? Would I be happy with only two halves instead of one whole? And why did I really want to do this? That was the bigger question.

  “Where is this even coming from, Cade? Is it that girl?”

  My head snapped in her direction, catching her eyes with mine. “Why would you think that?”

  “I don’t know, honestly. I would think you would want to keep the touching aspect of the job for her. From the little I’ve been able to understand about it, and from what you said to me last week about her, I would think you’d want to have the option to sleep with her. I don’t understand why you would want to give that up.”

  She was right… Did I want to give up my chances of having sex with Ivy? No, I didn’t. But I also wanted to help her. That’s where my inner struggle was. I knew I needed to protect myself when it came to Ivy, and I started to think that maybe removing the possibility of sex would help make things easier. Maybe it would allow me to help her in the ways she needed without it being clouded by my compulsion to be with her. If I did that then she would get the help she sought and I would be able to walk away without completely losing myself.

  “I don’t do what I do to sleep with women. That’s not why I got into this in the first place. I want to help them overcome their own weaknesses,” I argued, no longer even remembering what we were talking about in the first place. All I could think about was how I would be able to keep Ivy in my life without destroying us both in the process.

  “That didn’t answer my question.”

  Since when did Alyssa become my shrink? I let out a breath of air and started again, this time with a little more honesty. “I do want to have sex with her—no, I want to fuck her. And that’s the problem I’m facing. I can’t fuck her. And I can’t simply do what I’ve always done, either. I know that when we reach that part, the end of the road where I must decide to show her intimacy or send her off as cured, it won’t even be a question. There is this need inside of me to be with her physically. But I can’t put her on my table and walk her through it. It will end badly, for both of us.”

  “Then it sounds like a pretty easy solution to me.”

  I looked at her again with a raised eyebrow, asking her silently to continue.

  “You can’t work with her, Cade. If you can’t put aside your own feelings or cravings in order to give her what she needs, then you can’t help her. I’m sure she needs you, but there is no way this would end well for either of you.”

  “But I can’t. I haven’t talked to her in four days and I think I’m going to go crazy. I’ve become obsessed with helping her.” Obsessed… that’s the right word. That’s what I was when it came to anything Ivy. Except, my obsession didn’t end with just helping her; that wasn’t all I wanted to do to her. I wanted to hold her close and never let her go. One minute I wanted to protect her and then the next minute I wanted to shove her away.

  “I can’t believe the big, bad Caden Morgan is contemplating a career change because of a woman. That you would give up the one thing you pride yourself on for someone that is insufficient in the bedroom. Are you thinking about doing this so that you can help her on a different level where you won’t be tempted to fuck her, or is it because you want to have a relationship with her?”

  “Don’t be stupid, Alyssa. I don’t have relationships. You’re the closest I’ve ever come to one and right now, this is too much.”

  “Then what is it? Because I’m pretty sure you’ve been lying to yourself about it. There is nothing saying you can’t treat her in the traditional therapy sense while carrying on with your practice the way you’ve always done. Why can’t you tweak the way you’ve been handling her? Huh? From now on, she can sit on your couch and tell you all about her daddy issues while you snap your fingers and cure her.”

  I can’t say I had ever been angry with Alyssa before, but her comments sent my blood boiling. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Don’t talk about her like that. Ever. I thought it might be nice to open up to you, but it’s clear that was the wrong thing to do. Get the fuck out of my house.” My voice was low but deep, deeper than usual, and my words narrowly escaped through my clenched teeth.

  She smiled, causing my anger to rise even higher. “I knew that would get you. Deny it all you want, but you want more from this girl than to simply treat her of her sexual hang-ups. You can’t imagine seeing her without sex. You can’t have sex with her without the need to fuck her. And you clearly can’t walk away from her. You want her in your life… Open your eyes and admit it.”

  I couldn’t say anything else to her; instead, I walked inside and waited for her to leave. My head was swimming with thoughts so foreign to me they might as well have been in Chinese. I wasn’t a stupid man, so denying what now two separate people have told me was almost impossible, but I still couldn’t afford to admit it to myself. Not only was I incapable of being in a relationship and having feelings, I was also well aware of the outcome of such things. I knew how destructive they were.

  After thinking about it all night, I had finally come to a conclusion. There was only one thing I could do that would solve all of my problems. I would step up Ivy’s progress by pushing her even further. I had told her she could set the pace, and I would follow that to a certain extent. I would allow her to make the call as to when we would see each other, but when I did get to see her, it would be intense. One of two things would happen… I would scare her off, solving my problem of seeing her again, or my invasiveness would work and she could move on while enjoying a healthy sex life. She’s the one that told me she wanted to fuck… and if fucking her was what I had to do, then I had no choice. I had to end this before it ended me. And I knew the longer I had her around, the worse I’d get burned.

  I was down to my two options: her or me.

  And just as I had learned when I was eight… I was on my own.

  *****

  There was no word from Ivy on Wednesday, which both irritated and concerned me, but I gave her my word and I would stick to it. The problem w
as, my lack of attention to the other clients I was treating. As I sat at my desk, scheduling an appointment for the following week, I made a deal with myself. I had one week to get over this shit with Ivy. I gave myself one week to figure things out before I started referring my clients to other people or offering them a different approach.

  Her call finally came in on Thursday. I was at my desk late, desperately trying to find something to take my mind off my current situation. I knew she probably called the office that late at night expecting me to have been gone already. And I normally didn’t answer the office phone after hours, allowing the caller to leave a message instead. But that night, my mind had been so focused on Ivy that I had convinced myself every call that came through was her. That time, I had been right.

  I could tell by the way she stuttered my name that she hadn’t expected me to answer. It set my lips into a wide grin that caused my cheeks to ache. This woman would be the death of me; she would forever be known as the cause for the Fall of Cade.

  “I thought I should probably schedule an appointment since I haven’t seen you in a week,” she said into the phone with a whisper that flowed through me and instantly set my balls on fire.

  Had it only been a week? Why did it feel more like a year?

  “What about tomorrow?” I asked, not even bothering to check my calendar. If I had to cancel appointments to fit her in then that’s what I would do. I didn’t care what that meant to my other clients, nor did I allow myself to put any thought into it. The only thing I knew for certain was that I needed to see her. I rationalized it by telling myself I needed to see her so that I could rush her progress along and put her behind me, but deep down I knew that wasn’t true. Yes, I wanted to rush her progress along, but it was so that I could put myself behind her… and in her. And then I would put her behind me.

  “Oh… I was kind of thinking more like Monday or Tuesday.”

  “Do you have plans tomorrow?” I asked, knowing she didn’t.

  “Umm… kind of. It’s just really short notice.”

  “I’ll pick you up at nine thirty tomorrow night. That will give you time to take care of your plans and it’s twenty-five hours from now. That’s plenty of notice.”

  “Nine thirty? What are we going to do that late at night?”

  So many things, I thought to myself. “You’ve been doing so good with me that I thought we would try getting out. I’m going to take you to Blu.” I stopped and waited for her to say something, but all I got was silence from the other end of the line. “It’s a dance club.”

  “I know what it is. But I don’t think I’m ready…”

  “You are, Ivy. You need to be around large groups of people to see that you’re fine. It’s usually crowded and loud on Friday nights so it should be easy for you. You won’t have to worry about a lot of people talking to you or having to interact much. You’ll be fine.”

  “Fine,” she said, though her voice sounded defiant instead of compliant. “But I won’t know how to act and will probably embarrass you. I can’t dance so I have no idea what I will do there, but sure, let’s go.” Her sarcasm made me laugh to myself.

  An idea popped into my head. “Give me a book. Think about a book with a character you would like to be for the night. Let’s do that. You tell me which one and I’ll read it tonight. Tomorrow, you can be one of them and I’ll be the other. Like role playing; I know how much you like to pretend to live the lives of fictional characters.”

  “Really? You would do that?”

  I wanted to tell her I would do anything for her, but stopped myself before the words touched my tongue. “Of course. If it will help you feel more confident and could help in your progress, then absolutely.”

  Ivy was quiet for a moment before saying, “Okay, Always Been Mine by Carina Adams.”

  “What’s it about?” I asked, even though I really didn’t give a shit.

  “Josephine—or Joes as she is called a lot—is separated from her husband. Matty is her best friend and co-worker and has been in love with her for years, but neither one of them have ever admitted it to each other. It’s one of my favorite books.” Her voice picked up and softened as she spoke of these two fictional characters as if they were real.

  “So I have to pretend to be Matty, who has been in love with Joes forever? I can do my best, Ivy, but I’m not an actor, and I’ve never been in love.”

  “Just read it, Cade. You’ll know what love feels like when you read their story.”

  “Okay, I’ll get it and read it tonight. But you better be ready for tomorrow.”

  “I’ve read the book about four times, but I’ll read it again with you tonight… just to make sure I’m in it right.”

  With a smile on my face, I hung up the phone and left the office. I no longer needed to occupy my mind with files and billing. My mind was occupied enough with the thoughts of seeing Ivy the next night. I couldn’t wait to get home and read this book she had picked to impersonate. Just thinking of having to pretend to be in love with Ivy sent alarm bells of in my head, but it was my idea and I had to follow through with it.

  I made it home and immediately downloaded the book. Ivy said it was her favorite book, and so far, the ones she had suggested were pretty good. I only hoped this one was the same. The cover was of a woman hovering over a man, and I found myself praying for hot sex scenes that I would be able to bring up the next night. I needed to push Ivy a little harder, and if I could use this book to do that, then I would.

  Turns out the book was good and there was a second one in the series. Matty, the guy I would be playing at the dance club, rode a motorcycle and was part of a motorcycle club. That made me feel better about acting him out. I never had a bike or had ever even ridden one, but I was pretty sure I could pull off the whole badass biker well. And Ivy was right… reading that book helped me understand what love would feel like if I ever allowed myself to do so. But I knew that would never happen.

  I finished the book at almost three in the morning and immediately bought the next, Honey Whiskey. I read about four chapters before falling asleep with my iPad in my hand. I told myself I needed to read it to get more into character, but that was a complete fabrication. I wasn’t an actor and would probably never do this Matty character justice, but I was sure Ivy had read it and wanted to impress her.

  The other reason was that Matty was dominant in bed, and I felt we had that in common. Reading the sex scenes made me imagine Ivy; it made me imagine the things I could do to her… things I knew she wanted to have done to her. I wanted to mark her skin the way Matty marked Joes’. I wanted bruise her nipples and leave them sore the way Joes had described hers as feeling.

  The entire book consumed me, picturing Ivy with every word.

  My only hope was to get through the night without taking our role playing game too far.

  Dara, one of my newer clients, sat in my office on Friday afternoon. I had only been seeing her for a few weeks, and I felt confident I wouldn’t need to see her much longer. Her case was simple. She had zero self-worth and even less self-confidence. Her brothers and their friends had teased her mercilessly growing up and it damaged the way she viewed herself. There really wasn’t anything wrong with her and I couldn’t quite understand why she felt that way, but I guess some people are weak and take hateful words too seriously.

  Treating Dara was easy. I had taken her to a department store one day and had the woman at the makeup counter work on her some. It didn’t take much, showing her how to apply a small amount of makeup yet still look good. That was my thing. I hated women that wore too much makeup. All it did was cause me to question what was under it all. It reminded me too much of a mask and irritated the shit out of me. But with a little color and some black shit on her eyes, she looked great. Then we went to her size in the clothes—which in my opinion was average size, yet she seemed to think she was big—and I picked out a few outfits to try on. It was for the sole purpose to show her what looked good on her. I guess hearing
me tell her she looked sexy boosted her ego some.

  She was looking and dressing better than she had a few weeks ago when she first stepped foot in my office. All we had left to do was take the clothes off. Feeling confident while fully dressed was the first step, but it didn’t mean shit if she couldn’t feel that way without a stitch of clothing on. After all, my profession was sex.

  “Let’s start small, Dara. Unbutton your shirt,” I ordered from my chair.

  With her eyes cast down to her fingers, she began to slowly unbutton her shirt. Normally, this was fun to watch, but I wasn’t enjoying it as much as I used to. Instead of watching her skin slowly peek through the material, my mind began to wander… wondering what Ivy would look like as she took off her clothes.

  “Look at me when you do it,” I said, hoping if I had the attention of her eyes, I could stay focused on Dara instead of the images of Ivy that filled my mind. “That’s good. Don’t look away from my eyes, no matter where I’m looking. I want to see you.”

  Finally, her shirt was fully unbuttoned and hanging loosely at her sides.

  “Good, now take it off.” My voice was hard and deep. I’m sure to her ears I was completely turned on, which wasn’t a bad thing since my goal was to give her confidence. But in reality, I was trying to focus my attention on her. I was concentrating, not fighting my inner urges. “Now the skirt. Stand and unzip it; let it fall to the floor.”

  Dara did as she was told and I watched as her skirt fell to the carpet by her feet. My mouth watered as I wondered what Ivy would be wearing that night, and if it were a skirt, I thought about watching it fall away from her body. With some determination and control, I pulled my eyes back to Dara’s and smiled, giving her a boost to her ego.