by K. Langston
We’ve had several more sessions and I haven’t had the desire to fuck another woman. Not that I haven’t had the urge. But not just any woman will do. The only pair of legs I want to get between are the smooth, sexy ones that belong to my therapist sitting across from me.
I think she’s ruined me for all other women.
Or cured me.
I can’t decide which one.
I even went to the bar again last night, searching for someone who would garner the interest of my cock, even just a little bit, but I did not have a single urge.
I don’t know what she’s done to me or why it’s her that I feel this strong connection to but I do. Maybe it’s because she already knows how fucked I am and is somewhat accepting of that, even if it is in the medical sense. Or maybe it’s the challenge she presents.
Or maybe it’s something else entirely.
“Mr. Cunningham?” she prompts, bringing me back to the here and now.
I clear my throat, shifting to alleviate the tightness in my pants. “Early on, I remember wanting to be a teacher. I was accepted into Harvard, Columbia, and Brown, but after what happened, becoming a cop was the only option. I needed the control and authority that came with it.”
“Have you ever abused that power or authority?”
“Never. I’ve always prided myself on that, but recently, I came close to crossing that line and it scared the shit out of me.”
“Tell me what happened?”
“There’s this female officer who’s been eye-fucking me since I hired her on and well, temptation is hard to resist for a man with my needs. Being that I’m her superior, it’s my responsibility to make sure we never cross that line but I found myself slowly losing control around her. I began to make comments and suggestions. Then one day, we kissed.”
“You kissed?”
I nod, regret knotting in my gut.
“Then what happened?” she asks, pressing her lips into a thin line.
“I told her it was a mistake and it could never happen again.”
“You didn’t have sex with her?” Her voice shakes with a mix of shock and relief.
“No.”
“So you were able to determine in that moment a line had been crossed?”
I contemplate her question before answering. “Yes.”
More writing.
Then her eyes meet mine. “And why do you think that is?”
“Because I value my job more than pussy?”
She smirks. “Perhaps.” Then her expression turns more serious. “Or maybe you’re not a sex addict after all. I do think you have a strong sexual appetite. But sex addicts typically lack any self-control. A true sex addict would not have been able to determine the consequences of their actions in such a heated moment. However, you were able to stop the situation from escalating, which indicates that you do indeed possess self-control.”
“Outside of your sexual experiences, have you been in a relationship with anyone?” she asks.
“Yeah, I was married once.”
Her eyes widen with the admission. “You were?”
“Yep.”
She opens her mouth to ask another question when that damn buzzer goes off, signaling the end of our session.
I give her a wink then stand to leave. “Until next time, Doc.”
Chapter 8
Marley
In all of our sessions, not once had he indicated that he’d been married or even in a relationship, so to say I was surprised would be an understatement. Marriage is a big commitment and one I would think Asher wouldn’t take lightly. I’m anxious to find out more, but the following day, he called to cancel our session due to work. It’s not until two days later that we meet again.
From the moment he walks back into the room, the tightness in my stomach reappears. My skin becomes all itchy, like my clothes are too tight. He calmly takes a seat across from me, on his usual spot on the couch. Instead of his standard uniform, he’s wearing cargo pants and a short sleeve black T-shirt with MPD and his name and rank on the front. The fabric stretches across his broad chest, hugging his biceps, accenting the tattoos decorating his skin. The ink beckons my eyes. I find myself wanting to know what each one means and why he has so many.
I take a seat in my chair opposite him, flipping to the next blank page on my notebook.
Then I lift my eyes to find his.
“Tell me about the marriage. When did it end?”
He lets go of a frustrated breath, stretching out his long legs in front of him as he sinks farther into the couch.
“I met Peyton through some mutual friends. We hooked up a few times. Her appetite for sex was as insatiable as mine and we liked a lot of the same things in the bedroom. She let me be in control. She told me she was on the pill but I was still protecting myself just in case.” His lips press into a thin line as he shakes his head. “Then a few months later she handed me a positive pregnancy test, convincing me that one of the condoms must have busted. Showed me a fucking ultrasound and everything. I stupidly thought marrying her was the right thing to do because I didn’t want to disappoint my mother. I found out three months after we were married that she’d lied about the pregnancy. Her best friend broke down and told me the truth.”
His jaw ticks, his dark blue eyes a raging storm of anger and pain. Every experience he’s ever had with women, besides his sister and mother, has been negative.
No wonder he’s afraid to let anyone in.
“And how did that make you feel?”
“Angry. Bitter. I’ve never wanted to put my hands on a woman before, not until Peyton. But that dirty bitch came pretty damn close. That’s why I had to get the fuck out of there. That’s why I moved here.”
“It must be lonely living so far away from your family.”
“Sometimes. My sister, Reese, comes to visit from time to time. She travels a lot so I never know when she’s going to pop up.” He shrugs then picks at a piece of lint on his pants. “I try to get home when I can.”
He’s distanced himself so he doesn’t have to feel an emotional connection to anyone. That’s what feels safe to him. I still need more time with him before I decide whether or not he’s a true sex addict or simply suffering from a lifetime of unhealthy relationships due to the traumatizing events in his life.
I check my watch. We still have three minutes before the buzzer sounds but I need to go to the grocery store after I leave here so I decide to end the session a little early. “We’ll stop here for today.” Uncrossing my legs, I lay my notepad flat on my lap and meet Asher’s gaze. “We’ll pick back up from here at your next session. You’re doing really great, Asher. It takes a lot of courage to relive some of these traumatizing moments from your past but I think you’re making wonderful progress.”
“You do?” he asks, his voice a little skeptical.
“I do. I think with a little more time together we’ll be able to navigate you to a much healthier place.”
“Please tell me that healthy place includes being inside of you.”
“Asher.”
“Are we going to ignore what happened the other night?”
“Nothing happened.”
He leans forward, his eyes as hard as steel. “Oh, but it did.”
“Let me ask you something. If I weren’t your patient and if we’d met at the bar the other night and not here, tell me you wouldn’t have gotten on your knees for me?”
“I would’ve. You’re a very attractive man, Asher. Not even I can deny that.”
A satisfied smile spreads across his lips.
“But we both know what would have happened. We would have had sex and afterward you would feel the same way you do every time. Empty. Devoid of any emotion and repeating that same painful cycle over again.”
“No, you’re different.”
“Why am I different? Hmm? You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me. All you know is what I let you know. That’s it. And because this is where we started, this i
s all we will ever be. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
“That I can’t have you?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” And no sooner than the words leave my mouth, I want to take them back, because deep down they are a lie.
“Do you want to know what I would do if you were mine?”
“No,” I say, standing up from my seat and moving around my desk, needing to put something between us. Some kind of barrier to help protect me from the words that could possibly be my undoing.
But it doesn’t make a damn bit of difference.
It’s my body that wants to know.
Because it’s drawn to him in a way I’ve never felt before. With anyone, ever.
The man has some kind of power over me that I can’t explain. An internal gravitation that anchors me to him. And what’s terrifying is I can’t identify any of the emotions taking hold right now because all I want to do is give in to them.
Every.
Single.
One.
He slowly stands, walking toward me, eyes heavy with intent. Bracing his hands on the edge he leans forward, but I hold my ground, crossing my arms over my chest as a means of self-preservation.
And to cover up how painfully hard my nipples are right now.
“I would bend you over this desk, pull down those boring ass pants you have on, and spank your pretty little ass until you begged me to stop.” A wolfish grin spreads across his face. “Then, once your ass is nice and red and burning from my hand, I would make you ride my cock. The same cock you tease with your fucking tapping and every goddamn lick of your lips.”
He doesn’t say another word as he pushes himself off the desk and leaves my office, gently closing the door behind him. I finally release the air trapped in my lungs, breathing in and out as I take a seat in my leather chair.
Shit, I’m in way over my head here.
Chapter 9
Asher
Every muscle in my body burns and my lungs feel like they are on fire but it only makes me run faster.
Harder.
Determination pushes my feet down the sidewalk near the river. I don’t normally run here, but today I felt like venturing outside of my regular routine. I’ve been doing that a lot lately.
Ever since I started my therapy.
I smile to myself, thinking about her and how much she’s helped me already. Talking about my past was tough and it tore open a lot of wounds, but if there is one thing I’ve discovered about myself it is that I’m still in control.
I might have gone off the rails there for a while but I’m back now, and this time, I’m going to get it right.
Starting with her.
I slow my run to a walk and glance up as someone approaches, but I stop altogether when Marley’s smiling face comes into view.
And fuck, if I thought she was beautiful before, nothing compares to the way she looks right now.
The air whooshes from my lungs as she walks toward me. The wind lifts her curls, whipping them across her face, her slender fingers attempting to tame them behind her ear but it’s a lost battle, those sexy curls cannot be tamed.
My hands clench at my sides, wishing I could tame them myself, wrap them in my fist and hold her lips to mine until they are red and swollen from my kiss.
I wonder why she’s so happy. Who is responsible for that breathtaking, gorgeous smile on her face, and more so, what the hell do I have to do to earn it myself?
She’s only a few feet away when she finally notices me, and though she’s surprised she doesn’t tense up or shy away like I thought she would.
Instead, she offers me a guarded smile.
“Asher, hi.” Her eyes are hidden behind a pair of cute cat-eyed sunglasses.
I glance down at the little girl holding her hand who is the spitting image of her mother.
“This is my daughter, Lyla.”
“Very nice to meetcha,” the little girl greets, offering me her tiny hand.
“Asher.” I wrap my fingers around her hand and give it a shake, introducing myself.
Marley pushes her glasses onto her head, momentarily taming those luscious curls, and her bright green eyes sends blood rushing to my cock.
Fuck, not in front of the kid, stupid.
Puppies.
Ponies.
Pirates.
Pirates? Really, dumbass?
“Asher is a police officer,” Marley says, looking down at Lyla, breaking into my twisted thoughts.
“But where’s his gun?” she asks, squinting her eyes up at me.
Marley and I share a laugh.
I squat so I’m at eye level with Lyla. “I only wear my gun when I’m working.”
“And right now you’re not working?” Lyla asks.
I shake my head and smile. “Nope. It’s my day off.”
Lyla looks unimpressed and I laugh. Standing up, I look at Marley. “She’s cute.”
“Thanks...”
“Mommy, can Asher go with us?”
“Oh, I don’t know, sweetie...”
“But it’s his day off, right, Asher?”
I like this kid. She’s like a built-in wingman. “Right.”
“See, Mommy. He can push me on the swing like Uncle Peter does.” Lyla returns her attention to me. “Can you push me really high, Asher?”
“I can push higher than Uncle Peter,” I reassure her.
Marley gives me a pointed look.
“Yay!” Lyla squeals, clapping her hands and stomping her feet.
Marley laughs, shaking her head, then lowers those sexy cat-like glasses back down over her eyes and walks past me. “I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into. An hour at the park with this little girl will wear you out.”
I give her my best smile, jogging to catch up with her. “I’ve got plenty of stamina. Pretty sure I can keep up.”
Chapter 10
Marley
“Higher, Asher, higher!”
“Not too high,” I remind them both. Jesus, they are going to give me a heart attack.
Asher tosses me a wink, letting me know he’s got this, and I swear, I melt a little inside.
In the last hour I’ve seen a side of him I never thought I would. The fun, sweet, nurturing side that must be a result of his wonderful parents. He’s so good with her. Lyla has dragged him around this entire park and he’s humbly followed her every step and command. She even convinced him to slide down the slide earlier, and I nearly peed my pants laughing so hard. Watching someone of Asher’s stature attempt to slide down a kiddy slide just to please my little girl is hilarious.
And incredibly sweet.
He’s kept a safe distance from me, which I appreciate, even though every inch of my skin craves his touch.
“Mommy, look, Desi is here. Can I go play with her?”
I nod my head and Asher helps her down from the swing. She scampers over to the seesaws to greet her friend.
I give Desi’s mother a wave and she waves back, letting me know she’s got a close eye on them.
Asher takes a seat next to me and I hand him a water bottle from my bag.
“Thanks.” He smiles and it lights up his whole face.
My belly tightens in response.
“You weren’t lying, she’s a handful,” he states, twisting the cap off and taking a long pull. I try not to watch as his throat bobs and a small bead of sweat trickles down into the neck of his shirt.
I gulp and advert my attention straight ahead.
“I told you.”
He chuckles and the sound vibrates across my skin, tickling every last one of my senses. Then he leans back to rest his arm down the length of the bench, his fingers barely grazing my back but I feel them burning through my shirt.
I feel them everywhere.
“I’ll never doubt you again, Doc,” he says, stretching his legs out farther.
“Did you doubt me before?” I ask, bringing my eyes to his once more.
Thos
e dark blue, haunted eyes hold mine for several heartbeats before he finally answers. “Not for a second.”
I have to press my thighs together to keep from squirming.
“She adores you,” I tell him.
He nudges my shoulder with his own. “I can be pretty adorable.”
This man is anything but adorable. Sex personified is what he is and he knows it. I’m not sure how any woman can resist his charms. Even four-year-olds aren’t resistant to them.
“So where’s her dad?” he asks, changing the subject.
“He’s around.”
“You two get along?”
“For the most part. Our divorce was nasty. He fought me for custody of Lyla even though he lied through his teeth our entire marriage.”
Asher’s jaw ticks but he remains silent, waiting for me to tell him more. I debate on how much to share with him but I ultimately decide I want to.
The same way he’s done with me.
“Lyla was about a year old when Steven and I got a divorce. I found out he’d been lying to me about his job. He claimed to be a fertilizer salesman.” She scoffs. “That was until I showed up to surprise him on one of his many business trips and he wasn’t there. I found out later that he never worked for the company, even though he made bank deposits as if he did. I felt so stupid and betrayed.” She shakes her head. “I immediately filed for divorce and sought sole custody of Lyla, but he fought me on it. We went back and forth for months before the judge finally ordered joint custody. It killed me because I know Lyla loves her father, but I don’t trust him at all. And now he’s threatening to take me back to court.”
“What the hell for?”
“More time with her, he claims, but I’m not giving him any more than he already gets. Not until we establish more trust or the court forces me to. Part of me wishes he would just sign over his rights because I know, eventually, he’ll end up hurting her, too. He’s so manipulative and deceiving, and I don’t want her tainted by his lies.” I shake my head. “That makes me sound like an awful person, doesn’t it?”
