by K. Langston
“What’s your relationship like with your parents?”
“Great, for the most part. Besides them being constantly worried about me but I figure that’s normal for any parent.”
“And your siblings?”
“I get along with them most of the time. I’m kind of the outcast of the bunch.”
She tilts her head, folding her hands in her lap. “How so?”
“I wasn’t as outgoing as they were when we were younger. My brothers were pretty popular. They all played sports and excelled at any and everything. They had no problems talking to girls. Me...not so much.”
“And why is that?”
“I wasn’t athletic like my brothers and I was painfully shy. Girls never really paid attention to me at all. No one did.”
More writing.
I hate the writing.
It drives me mad.
My hand tugs at the back of my neck, trying to alleviate the tension there.
Her eyes return to mine as she tilts her head in curiosity. “What’s bothering you right now, Asher?”
“I hate it when you write. It makes me feel like I’m being dissected.”
“How so?”
“Like you’re quietly pulling back the layers of my skin. It makes me feel vulnerable and exposed.”
“And you don’t like to feel vulnerable?”
“Fuck no. I hate it,” I grit.
More goddamn writing.
Then I get her eyes once more.
“Sometimes we have to open ourselves up to others, it’s the only way to express what we are feeling inside so others might understand us,” she says calmly.
That sounds painful as fuck, not to mention scary. I hate talking about my feelings. I’m surprised I’m still sitting in this chair right now, but something about her makes me want to open up.
To get it all out.
Even if it does make me feel uncomfortable.
She sets her notebook aside and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Her gaze returns to mine. “Were you bullied in school?”
“Somewhat. My brothers always had my back and they never let anyone mess with me but they weren’t always around.”
Memories begin to flood my mind. Memories I’ve kept buried for a long time. From a time that shaped and changed my life forever.
“Did something happen to you back in high school?”
I debate whether to tell her but figure if I am ever going to get better I need to tell her everything, and so, I do...
“Ivy Lee happened.”
“Was she your girlfriend?”
“No. She was the most popular girl in school. Beautiful. Smart. Funny. She was always nice to me when her boyfriend wasn’t looking. She brought me snacks to school and slipped them in my pocket when she’d walk by me in the hall. The highlight of my entire week would be those goddamn snacks. I’d have to dart into the bathroom right after thanks to the boner she would elicit but fuck, that girl consumed my life. She was my every waking thought and starred in all of my dirtiest dreams. She rattled something inside of me. One day while we were in class, she fingered herself right next to me. It was the craziest shit.
“The teasing went on for about three months. And as each day passed, I grew more and more obsessed with her. Then one day in the hall, instead of shoving snacks into my pocket, she pulled me into a corner and handed me a piece of paper with her address on it and told me to meet her there after school. I walked around with a hard-on for the rest of the day. Then, after school, I walked four miles to her house. Told Mom and Dad I had a science club meeting. When I got there she was alone. Or so I thought. She pulled me into the living room and told me to strip. I was apprehensive but she kept reassuring me her parents wouldn’t be home for hours and she just wanted me to make love to her. And God knows that’s all I wanted, too.”
Nausea bubbles in my gut as my mind drifts back to that day, recounting every detail that has been branded into my memory forever.
Her hands fumbled for my buttons and before I knew it the sound of my zipper coming down filled the room. She kept kissing and touching me. It felt so fucking good I came right there in my boxers. I was embarrassed at first, but then she got down on her knees, pulled my boxers down to my ankles, and sucked every last bit of cum off my dick.
Then she stood up and kissed me. I was in love with her before I even walked through the door. So when her lips touched mine, I wasn’t sure what to name the emotion that began blistering my soul. But just as quickly as the love in my heart flared with new life, it was quickly doused with a bucket of ice-cold water when her boyfriend, David, stepped out from the kitchen, a sneer pulling at his thin lips. He always looked at me with pure disgust in his eyes. I never understood why until that night. I was so fucking scared, wondering what the hell he was going to do to me. But instead of kicking my ass, he leaned down and kissed Ivy long and deep.
Once he released her, he looked down at my growing dick. I might not like that he kissed her but my dick didn’t really give a shit.
“See, I told you he’d be into it.”
“In—into what?”
“The three of us...together. What do you say?”
“What?”
It fucked me all up. There I was, damn near naked in her parents’ living room, boxers down around my ankles, hard as a rock and ready to make love to the woman of my dreams, and this asshole wanted to share her. I wasn’t sure I was capable of that. I was so confused. I quickly pulled my boxers up and reached for my pants but he was bigger, stronger, and moved a hell of a lot faster. He pinned me to the couch, face first.
“Judging by how hard your dick is right now, I think you’d enjoy it.”
“No, I’m not gay, dude. Let me go!” I begged.
I’d never felt so weak in all my life. I made a silent vow then and there that when I made it out of this, I would take every measure possible to make sure I always had the upper hand. That I was never left vulnerable like this again.
His mouth found the shell of my ear. “You don’t have to be gay to want this, Asher. I love cock and pussy and I’m not fucking gay.”
I shook my head, squirming beneath his weight. “I don’t want this.”
He pulled me up then spun me around, fisting the collar of my shirt. His eyes flared with anger and lust. “Well, you better start convincing yourself that you do because it’s fucking happening.”
Panic clawed at my throat. I had no idea how I was going to get myself out of this.
“Everything that happens here stays here. No one has to know but the three of us. Besides, if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll bury your ass.”
I nodded, swallowing down the bile rising in my throat. He released me and took a seat in the chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I knew you were smart, Asher. Now, take off the rest of your clothes.”
Chapter 5
Marley
My heart aches at the pain in his eyes as he reveals the dark corners of his past, and sitting here right now, I know I made the right decision to continue seeing him as my patient. I’d debated all day yesterday whether I should or not, considering the moment we shared Saturday night, but I ultimately decided that I could handle this. That I was strong enough to revisit whatever he threw my way in an effort to help him regain some semblance of control when it comes to his urges.
There’s not a doubt in my mind that this is what triggered his behavior.
Aside from the clench of his fists on his thighs, he remains perfectly composed as he recounts this painful part of his past.
Once he’s finished, I give him a moment to let the memory settle between us. His first instinct would be to tuck it back away into the recesses of his mind but he surprises me when he allows me to see the real damage it’s caused.
Anger.
Shame.
Resentment.
I choose my next words carefully. “Your first sexual experience had been forced upon you, Asher, and it involved ano
ther dominant male. You were helpless to escape that. You can’t burden yourself with blame. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I hated not having control. Fucking hated it.” His nostrils flare as he shifts his gaze to the floor. “From that day on, something inside of me changed. A switch flipped and I was never the same.”
“Did you tell anyone what happened?” I ask, my heart breaking at the thought of him dealing with this alone.
“Fuck no. I reinvented myself. Changed my appearance, signed up for karate. I became the person no one wanted to fuck with. I refused to ever be that weak again.”
“You weren’t weak, Asher. You were manipulated and forced. There is a difference. The loss of virginity is an important milestone in human development, signifying a transition to adulthood. This traumatic experience altered your emotional development and may very well be the reason you’re not able to associate sex with feelings.”
“There is no lack of feeling when I have sex.”
“You know what I mean.”
He grins mischievously and heat flushes my cheeks. That familiar tingle simmering beneath my skin.
What the hell was I saying?
Oh right, his virginity.
“So now that you know my deepest, darkest secret, Doc, when do I get to know yours?”
My nerves kick up at the thought of him knowing mine. “We’re here to talk about you not me.”
His watchful eyes make me uncomfortable so I clear my throat and quickly move on. “I think what you experienced as an adolescent has hindered you sexually as an adult.”
He grunts. “Trust me, I’m not hindered at all. I will gladly prove it to you.” I shoot him an annoyed look. “I had every intention of proving it to you Saturday night until you ran away from me.”
And there it is. The conversation I’d hoped to avoid. I don’t want to talk about what happened Saturday night and that’s not like me at all. Typically, I would be the first to address things and would not hesitate to discuss my feelings. But I can’t with him. It’s too risky. Too dangerous and scary as hell.
Even when I’m not analyzing his mind, I’m overthinking every look and move he makes. I’m hyperaware of his commanding presence. When he speaks every hair on my body stands at attention. My nipples tighten beneath my shirt and I have to squeeze my thighs together. When his eyes hold mine, I feel like I’m the one being exposed, not him, and it’s frustrating as hell.
I redirect the conversation, keeping it focused on him.
“How do you feel after you have sex?”
“Unsatisfied. Empty.”
“And why do you think that is?”
“Fuck if I know, Doc, that’s why I’m here, to figure it out.”
“You’re detached, and until you find someone you can trust to open up to emotionally, someone you trust to have positive sexual experiences with, you will continue to struggle with these urges.”
“I’m opening up to you. That counts, right?” he asks, a sinful smirk tugging his lips.
“It’s a start.”
The buzzer on my desk signals our hour is up.
“Sorry, but we’re out of time for today.”
Disappointment flashes in his eyes.
“Same time tomorrow?” I ask.
He nods then stands to leave, and I follow, laying my notepad on the chair. But before he opens the door, he spins to face me again, his expression masked with something I can’t quite put my finger on. “Thank you for listening, Doc.”
“You’re welcome,” I whisper, trying desperately not to get drawn into his warm gaze but it’s impossible. I practically melt right there on the spot.
“See you tomorrow.”
Once he finally leaves, I lean against the door as I try to calm my racing heart.
I’ve never met a man as good-looking and intimidating as him. Maybe it’s the uniform, the way his lean frame fills it out so perfectly, or perhaps it’s the gun attached to his hip that makes him look dangerous, but I know that’s not it either.
It’s something else.
Something deeper.
Something dark and mysterious that heats my blood and rattles my bones. And the fact that he’s totally forbidden makes me want him even more. I reach behind me and lock the door then my hand drifts to the back of my dress pants to unzip them before dipping them beneath my panties. I curse myself for not wearing a skirt. Something more accessible. Then I slide my fingers through my wet folds, stroking back and forth.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I never do things like this.
You did Saturday night.
And last night.
Being anywhere near that man does crazy things to my body and my control is nil when I’m alone.
So alone.
The pent-up orgasm hits me hard and fast, my tense body sagging against the door as I ride out the glorious waves. Shame colors my face as the pleasure flees just as fast as it came, leaving me feeling embarrassed but sated. Readjusting my underwear and zipping up my pants, I remind myself that Lieutenant Cunningham is my patient and that is a line I will not cross, but I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. If the mere thought of him can satisfy me this much, there’s no telling the damage he could do in real life.
Good thing I’ll never find out.
Chapter 6
Asher
"Dude, what the fuck?" my best friend, Danny, snaps under his breath as I peel off my damp shirt and toss it to the side.
"What?"
"You're making me look bad.”
I grunt. “Well, if you actually worked out instead of running your mouth the whole time, you would be making some progress."
"I could work out every fucking day and still not look like that," he says, pointing to my stomach.
"Hard work and dedication, brother." I pick up one of the dumbbells and take a seat on the bench. "Besides, there’s hardly any chicks in here anyway." I nod toward the elliptical. "Except Gina and you've already tapped that a few times so what's the big deal?"
"Christ, don't remind me. I should have learned my lesson the first time." He shakes his head in disgust. "Crazy bitch."
Gina smiles at him from across the room, giving him a flirty wave.
Danny cringes, returning his attention to me. "I'm into a lot of kinky shit but that girl..." He lowers his voice, leaning his head closer to mine. "She tried to give a reach-around."
I laugh.
Hard.
Nearly losing my breath.
"What's wrong with that?" I ask.
"Ain't nobody gettin' near my ass, dude. The fuck, man? You into that kind of stuff?"
"I'm not opposed to it. I only have a few hard limits. Anything else is negotiable."
"You're twisted."
Tell me something I don't know.
“Speaking of twisted, what’s up with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, for the last two weeks I haven’t seen a single chick do the walk of shame. I kinda miss it.”
Danny and I are roommates. We live in this old house his parents renovated in Midtown before they moved to Florida to retire a few years back. It’s four bedrooms with plenty of space and the rent is cheap considering it’s in such a nice neighborhood.
We met when I first moved here six years ago. I’d gone to the academy in New York and worked for the department for a few years but decided shortly after my divorce to move here. I needed to get the hell away from my ex. Danny was one of the first cops I’d met and we had so much in common. We’re both book nerds, addicted to ink and women, and we’re both gym sharks.
Well, I’m a shark, Danny is more like a tortoise.
“Just been busy.”
“Bullshit. You always have time for pussy.”
I shrug. “Maybe my priorities have changed.”
He raises a brow. “You mean to tell me you ain’t thinking about nailing that brunette over there eye-fucking the shit out of you right now?”
I don’t even glan
ce in her direction. “Nope,” I reply, curling my arm with the weight fisted in my grip.
And it’s the truth. Because right now I’m thinking about the good doctor and how bad I want to twist my fingers in her silky curls while I bury myself so deep inside of her she’ll never be able to hide from me. Today’s session has me on edge, razor sharp, cutting right to the heart of me. It feels like I’m bleeding out and only she can help ease the pain.
Danny crosses his arms, raising a brow. “You seeing someone?”
I grin, her beautiful face flashing through my mind. “You could say that.”
“Is it serious?”
“I’d say so.”
He throws his hands up in frustration. “I can’t believe this is happening. What kind of fresh hell is this and what kind of voodoo pussy has you under her spell?”
I chuckle. “There’s no voodoo pussy.”
Although, I’m pretty sure that doctor of mine possesses such a thing. I haven’t even touched her yet and I’m already under her spell.
Chapter 7
Asher
My dick has taken one hell of a beating this week. If I’m not stroking the hell out of it with thoughts of Doc spread before me flashing through my mind, it’s throbbing behind my zipper, aching to be inside of her. She’s wearing a skirt today. She’s worn a skirt the last three sessions, and I’m starting to think it’s on purpose. She has to know what it does to me.
What it would do to any man.
There’s no tapping today but there’s a lot of lip licking. I swear to Christ, if she licks those full lips one more time I’m going to come in my fucking uniform pants. It’s a wonder I haven’t already. I’ve been hard as a rock since I walked through the goddamn door.
“What made you want to go into law enforcement? Was it because of your family or a choice you made on your own?” she asks, tucking a lock of curly hair behind her ear, revealing a small pearl earring. She’s worn it curly every session since Saturday night, when I complimented her on it, and the small act sends satisfaction through my blood.
