Take Me There

by M. C. Decker

  Take Me There

  Copyright © 2018 M.C. Decker

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written consent of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or publishers.

  Cover Design:

  Michele Catalano, Michele Catalano Creative

  Cover photo:

  Jean Woodfin, JW Photography and Covers

  Cover models:

  Wade Hayes & Deanna Ruge

  Interior Design and Formatting:

  Christine Borgford, Type A Formatting

  Contents

  TAKE ME THERE

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Epilogue

  Enjoy an Excerpt of LOVE ENTWINED

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by M.C. Decker

  To Christina Rhoads for being my biggest cheerleader and for ultimately pressuring me into writing this book in record time–even if I may not have slept for weeks. Now, pass me the wine! Cheers! Love you, Lady!

  Ashlynn

  Present Day—Three months later

  DRESSED IN ALL black, I stood behind a large oak tree, watching as the last of the mourners retreated to their cars. The shadow of my breath danced before me in the crisp, late November air.

  My parents were the last to leave, offering their condolences to Parker, my ex, and his sister, Vanessa. The two siblings were left alone in the rural cemetery to say their final goodbyes. Vanessa’s sobs echoed through the barren trees as Parker kneeled on the freshly covered grave.

  Just because I wouldn’t allow myself to shed a tear for Kyle Flynn, it didn’t mean that I didn’t deeply hurt for Parker and Vanessa. They’d already buried both their parents and now they were saying goodbye to their brother. Even though Kyle was ten years older than Parker and nearly thirteen years older than Vanessa, the three got along, more than just siblings, but also as best friends. There was a time when I’d fit into their little squad.

  When Parker called to tell me the news of Kyle’s passing, I was more than a little shocked. Truthfully, I tried not talking about Kyle–especially not with Parker. Just his name left me feeling guilty and afraid. I wasn’t quite sure how to react, but I offered my sympathy for my ex-husband’s sake. When he asked if I’d make it to the service, I quickly hunted for an excuse and told him I’d be out of town for a work conference.

  I hadn’t lied to him. I wasn’t planning on going at all, but I guess I had to see it for myself—the casket, the grave, the final resting spot of Kyle Flynn.

  Biting my bottom lip, I refused to shed a single tear. You aren’t going to let him take you there again, I kept repeating to myself. Not now. Not ever.

  After several minutes, Parker and Vanessa got up and walked hand-in-hand back to the car. I waited as Parker brushed the newly fallen snow from the windshield before getting into the car and driving off.

  Finally, alone in the cemetery, I walked over to the gravesite, my heels crunching in the snow. Momentarily, I regretted coming alone. My parents would’ve been a shoulder to cry on, but they didn’t know the whole truth. I’d told them the same lie as I’d told Parker. As far as they knew, I was hundreds of miles away in south Florida.

  I’d made a decision all those many years ago to keep my secret. As a teenager, I thought my parents might’ve blamed me even though I knew now that wouldn’t have been the case. But, I couldn’t tell them now. My mother would never forgive me for keeping this secret from her for so long. And then there was also Parker. If he would’ve ever known the side of Kyle that I’d known, it would’ve broken him. I never told him my version of Kyle and I never could.

  I had wanted to tell Carson. I wished he was standing at my side, but instead I ran from him. I’d come very close to telling him everything while wrapped in his arms as I desperately wanted to give him all of me. I wanted him to finally be the one to take me there, but in the end, I was too afraid–I was always too afraid.

  The secrets I’d kept for all those years were now buried with Kyle Flynn and that’s where they would have to remain–forever.

  Ashlynn

  Twelve years ago

  EXHALING SHARPLY, I focused on the clock tick off seconds as Parker and I waited in our new therapist’s office.

  “I’m not sure if this was a good idea,” I said, my voice trembling. “I don’t think I’m ready for this, Parker. Please just take me home.”

  “Ash, we agreed,” he said, reaching for my sweaty palm.

  “No, you agreed,” I snapped, jerking my hand away. “I just don’t think I’m ready to tell my darkest secrets to a stranger.”

  “You won’t tell me, so what other option do we have? Are you just ready to give up? Throw away everything we’ve built? I love you, Ashlynn, but I can’t keep doing this with you,” he yelled, raking his fingers through his hair.

  “You knew when you married me that I was far from perfect. You knew I was carrying around a truckload of baggage. I told you then that it wasn’t a good idea, but you just kept on asking. You gave me no other choice but to finally give in.”

  Parker let out an audible sigh, telling me that my words had stung him. It was never my intention to hurt him, but he’d left me no other choice. If he’d just listened when I’d told him I couldn’t marry him.

  “No one is perfect, Ash, and everyone has baggage. I just wish you would let me in on your secrets because then maybe I could make it easier for you. Maybe things would get easier for us. I just want to be with you. I want to hold you. I want to protect you and I want to love you. Please, Ash, just let me love you,” Parker nearly begged. “It hasn’t always been like this for us. Remember when we were young? Things were so easy then. Something changed between us and you won’t talk to me about it.”

  “We were just kids, Park. Of course, things were easy back then. Our biggest concern was what time the ice cream truck would drive through the neighborhood,” I said in frustration. “There’s nothing I want to talk about. Can you just let it go?”

  Just as I was about to get up and leave there was a light knocking on the door. “May I come in?” a female voice requested.

  “Yes,” Parker responded, eyeing me suspiciously.

  “Hello, I’m Dr. Joleen Reynolds. You must be Mr. and Mrs. Flynn,” the woman said, walking into the office.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Flynn. We’ve heard nothing but good things. Right, Ash?” Parker said, looking in my direction.

  “Mmmhmm,” I muttered, just hoping to get this over with as quickly and painlessly as possible. At that moment, I was almost certain that a trip to the gynecologist would be more pleasant.

  “What brings you both in to see
me today,” she asked, flipping open our chart.

  Looking back toward the clock, I listened as Parker began to rehash our story with Dr. Reynolds.

  This was going to be the longest hour of my life . . . But, if I could fake so many orgasms over the years then I could certainly fake this too. I just hoped that I could fool Dr. Reynolds as easily as I’d tricked Parker for so long.

  My husband definitely didn’t deserve this and I didn’t deserve him.

  Ashlynn

  Present Day

  “OH FUCK, BABY. I’m almost there. Your pussy feels so good.” Jeff screamed as he pumped in and out of me. Or, was it Jarrod? Fuck, I don’t even know this guy’s name. What was I doing? I’d become so desperate to find the “Big O” that I’d settled for a one-night stand with a random stranger. My mother would be so proud.

  “I’m coming,” Jeff–yeah I’m going with that–screamed, as he thrust into me one last time. Well, good for you, buddy. At least that means that one of us got a tiny bit of enjoyment from this arrangement.

  Before I had a chance to roll over and sneak off into the bathroom, Jeff turned to his side, pulling me into his chest. Fuck me–Jeff was a cuddler. When we left the bar over four hours ago, I hadn’t agreed to a slumber party.

  “As much as I’d love to spend more time wrapped in your arms, I have to be to work in just a few hours,” I lied, hoping Mr. One-Night-Stand would take the hint.

  “I’ll just stay here then,” Jeff said, pulling me closer. He really was fucking clueless. It was looking like I had a stage five clinger on my hands.

  “I really don’t think that’s a good idea. My neighbor is really a nosey old bag, and I’d hate for her to see you doing the walk of shame in the morning,” I lied again. I’d have to apologize to Mrs. Sweet later. She really was as sugary as her last name suggested.

  After several more minutes of Jeff trying to snuggle his way into my blackened heart, he finally wised up and saw himself out. Reaching under the bed, I pulled out my golden toy chest. Don’t judge, every woman over the age of twenty-five should have a box containing all her vibrating treasures.

  I needed to at least try to release the pressure building in between my thighs, even if I knew it’d be all for nothing. I was always buying the newest vibrator–each bigger and more powerful than the last. And, each claiming to give you the most intense orgasm of your life. Quite frankly, I wasn’t looking for the most intense. At this stage of the game, I’d settle for just a tiny, little ripple.

  With all the toys under my bed, and with more men in my bed, I looked like a sex goddess–a nympho, maybe even a slut–but as they say, looks can be deceiving. I wasn’t any of those things. I was just a liar, a fake, and a fraud. The demons of my past would always haunt and torture me. My ex-husband could attest to that.

  The hospital’s sliding glass door creaked as it slid open. Dashing through, I glanced down at my watch hoping I still had time to grab a latte and a muffin before my first appointment arrived. No such luck. Since Jeff spent more time in my bed than I’d anticipated, I’d slept through my first alarm, leaving me no extra time to stop at the coffee shop around the corner. I wasn’t the biggest fan of hospital coffee; it was sludgy and more like oil than java, but at this point, anything with caffeine would have to suffice. I’d somehow have to survive the day without my tall hazelnut mocha with an extra shot of espresso.

  “Oh my god, please tell me my first appointment is running late,” I asked Brad, as I scurried past the nurses’ station. “I need coffee! I’ll even take it black. I’m so desperate!”

  “Mmmm, afraid not, Ash. They’re already waiting for you in the lobby.”

  “Of course they are. Evidently, punctuality isn’t the cause of their separation,” I mumbled.

  “What’s got you in such a foul mood this morning?” he asked, rifling through patient files. “I thought Mr. Sexy from the bar took you home last night.”

  Brad and I had been friends since I started working at St. Therese nearly six years earlier. He was a new RN in the behavioral health department, and I’d been hired as a marriage and family counselor straight out of my master’s program from Northwestern. Being the new kids around the wing, we immediately clicked, and it didn’t hurt that we shared similar tastes in men. He knew all my deepest secrets–well, all except for one. I didn’t tell just anyone about that one–not even my mother. Scratch that, especially not my mother. Not even Parker or my therapist knew the entire story–and I intended to keep it that way–forever.

  “Did you not get lucky after all?”

  “Mmmm, something like that,” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “I guess you could say that I’m going through a bit of a dry spell.” He didn’t need to know the exact length of said spell.

  Coming around the other side of the counter, he leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Wait until you get a glimpse of Dr. Foster. That’ll brighten your day.”

  “Dr. Foster? As in THE Dr. Carson Foster–renowned sex therapist?” I nearly squeaked, my eyes widening.

  “The one and only,” a gruff voice answered from behind.

  Turning on my heels, my jaw dropped as I took in the gorgeous man standing before me.

  “Told you,” I heard Brad mumble beside me.

  I’d seen Dr. Foster once before when I was a grad student. I had attended a seminar that he’d presented on campus. He’d already been in the field for a few years and had come up with some revolutionary therapy techniques while he was an attending at Regional Hospital in the downtown area. I remember him being good looking back then, but the extra years had been good to the doctor.

  His muscular arms filled out the white lab coat that he wore over a crisp, black dress shirt. I was almost certain that underneath it all, he most definitely had a six-pack. Dr. Foster clearly knew his way around a gym. Suddenly feeling insecure about myself, I wrapped my arms around my waist, making a mental note to try and hit the running trail after work.

  Before I had time to contemplate any more of my own imperfections, my eyes came to focus on the cobalt blue tie knotted around Carson’s wide neck, bringing out the blue flecks in his otherwise gray eyes. His thick, brown mane was styled with just a tiny bit of gel and a small trail of stubble outlined his chiseled jaw, leaving behind the sexiest five o’clock shadow.

  Even the silver Rolex wrapped around his wrist was better than any porno I’d ever seen. Just because a man had never brought me to climax, didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy the show. As I stood there gawking, I heard Dr. Foster break the silence.

  “Dr. Carson Foster, but I presume you already knew that,” he said. Offering me his hand to shake, I couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. I stood there in silence, forgetting how to speak. “And you are?”

  “Ashlynn,” Brad said, nudging me on the arm.

  “Oh, yeah, sorry. I haven’t had my coffee yet this morning. You’ll have to forgive me. I’m Ashlynn Sommers.” I said, hoping he’d buy my lack of caffeine for my sudden ineptness.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Sommers. I’ve heard so much about you,” Carson replied, his eyes burning straight through mine. I thought about his words and wondered what exactly he’d heard about me–certainly, he wouldn’t know that. After all, he was a doctor, not a mind reader.

  “Only good things, I hope,” I sputtered.

  “Let’s just say that Dr. Reynolds filled me in on all of the staff here,” he said, his gravelly voice sending a shiver down my spine.

  “Dr. Reynolds? I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head. “Why would our boss be discussing us with you?”

  “Well, she wanted to be the one to tell you herself, but she rushed out of here this morning before the sun was even up to head out West. I’ll be taking over for her for the time being. She had an emergency with one of her elderly parents over the weekend, and she won’t be returning to work for several weeks–could be a few months even. Fortunately, I was just down the road at Regional and available to step in for the
time being.”

  This man was now my boss? This man, who in just five minutes had left me feeling more vulnerable than I’d ever felt around any man ever before, would be working by my side for an undetermined amount of time?

  Noticing my sudden inability to form coherent sentences, Brad took control of the conversation. “We’re lucky to have you here, Dr. Foster. You have quite the reputation in our field.”

  “I do take pride in my work. Now if you’ll both excuse me, I have a patient to see,” he said, turning to walk away. Before disappearing down the hall and into his office, he swiveled around. “Ashlynn, I should be free in about an hour if you’re available to grab that coffee.”

  “Me?” I asked, pointing at myself.

  “Yes, you. Dr. Reynolds did actually speak very highly of you, and I’d like to pick your brain about the department since it looks like I’ll be heading it up for the foreseeable future,” he explained.

  “Oh, OK, sure. I’ll meet you in the cafeteria in an hour then,” I said nervously, as he disappeared into his office.

  “Holy shit! You have a date with Dr. Sex.” Brad screamed. “I’m not going to lie. I’m super jealous. That man is simply edible.”

  “Shhh. What if he can hear you?” I whispered. “Besides, it’s not a date. And, Dr. Sex? What are we, fourteen?”

  “Seriously, Ash, I’ve read articles about this guy. He leads the field when it comes to helping women who have intimacy issues. Evidently, he has a ninety-five percent success rate.”

  “Really? Ninety-five percent? I knew he was good, but I didn’t know he was that good,” I squawked, hoping he didn’t notice my sudden curiosity.

  “Yeah, why?” he asked, eyeing me quizzically.

  “No reason. I’ve just had some patients with trouble in that arena, and it’s not really my thing. You know I’m much more about communication.”

  “Well if you’re so much into communication then you should have picked up the signs Dr. Sex was throwing your way. It’s definitely a date. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”