 
Insomnia

Sexual Misconduct

Volume One

Bethany Bazile

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Copyright © 2014 by Bethany Bazile

All rights reserved.

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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Edited by Cassie McCown of Gathering Leaves Editing

Copyedited & Proofread Lori Whitwam of  Ripleygold Proofreading & Copyediting

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**About Insomnia**

I was arrogant, pushy, controlling, and I was fine with that. What I couldn't control were my dreams. Memories haunted me there.

Even after over a decade, I found I couldn't outrun them. Returning to the place they lived only seemed to trigger a landslide. I couldn't focus, couldn't sleep. Some people drank a warm cup of milk, cuddled up with a book, or threw back a couple shots.

Me?

I fucked my way to sleep.

Every single night, I lost myself in pussy. For a long time, it was the only way I knew to get to sleep. But it was getting less and less effective. I slept shorter periods of time before the dreams started.

There was only one hope for my insomnia, and she was sexy, intelligent, and unexpected. I wanted to exhaust myself in her sexy little body and let her soothe me to sleep.

The only problem... she was my therapist, and I'd have to break her code of conduct and totally corrupt her before I made her mine.

***Warning: This is an _Erotic Serial_ and contains explicit sexual content and language. If you have an aversion to hanging off the edge of a cliff, you may want to wait until all three parts have been released.***

Part One

# Insomnia

# Xander

It was hot, so hot I felt flames licking across my flesh, droplets of sweat rolling down my skin, and dry heat burning my throat. I was at the gates of hell with no salvation in sight, clawing at the door with bloodied fingers and clammy palms.

I'd fucked up. I'd let my anger and frustration lead me down a dark road. There were no fucking bright lights down this road. No prayer that would take me to a better place. The only out had been death or a fate worse... _Survival_. Living with the destruction I'd caused wouldn't be easy.

" _Xander."_

_She_ was calling out to me. She always did.

" _Xander!"_

I wanted one last chance to talk to her, but time was running out.

"Xander!"

I jerked into an upright position. Lying naked in bed, my sweat-covered skin felt cool in the air-conditioned room, but I was still on fire. My heart raced as if I'd escaped death's grasp by some crazy slip-up.

It's just a dream.

I'd escaped my nightmare but never outrun the memories. Coming back home had been a necessity, but staying had been a mistake. The only reason I'd stayed six weeks was my mother. After losing my dad, she was falling apart. She seemed fine, but I knew she needed me to stay.

"Are you okay?" Gabriella asked. I glanced over at her, narrowing my eyes in confusion.

"Why are you still here?"

She smiled. The sheet she clutched to her chest fell away. "Don't be that way, Xander. If I hadn't stayed, who would've woken you from that nightmare?"

She ran her hand across my shoulder and over my chest.

"You need to leave." I had a pounding headache, and I was on edge. The last person I wanted to deal with was Gabriella.

"Xander..." she said in that whiny tone that scratched against my nerves like chalk across a blackboard. "Your hands are shaking, your heart is beating a mile a minute, and you never really sleep. Let me help you relax."

"I sleep."

"No, you don't. Every time I'm here, this happens."

"If you would leave like you're supposed to, then I wouldn't have to deal with you digging into shit that doesn't concern you." I rubbed a hand over my tired eyes.

"I can help you."

"You already did, and it was great. Go home."

"No, I mean... I know someone—someone you can talk to."

I narrowed my eyes as I looked over at her. My frustration built, and in a few short seconds, I'd be tossing her out on her ass. "You think I'm fucked up in the head?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying. Dr. Shaw is amazing at helping people with things like this. I've been to her before. Just talk to her and maybe she can give you something to help you sleep."

"No... I'm fine." I tugged a hand through my hair, squeezed my eyes shut, and sighed. I was an over-controlling asshole. People came to me for business advice. I was an actor turned producer. I didn't need to sit on some shrink's couch and cry my problems out. I needed sleep. As controlling as I was, the one thing I had no rule over was shutting down my brain when I went to bed. When I was awake, I put everything in a box and shoved it into a far corner of my mind, but as soon as I shut my eyes, that box fell off the shelf and released everything onto me with a devastating blow.

"Baby... just—"

"I'm not your fucking baby. I'm not your anything. We have an agreement, Gabriella. You come here a couple times a week, we fuck, then you get the hell out. If you keep trying to push your way into my life, you'll quickly find yourself completely out of it." I threw the sheets off and swung my legs off the bed. I'd met Gabby five weeks ago at the local strip club. She was exactly what I needed—a quick fuck with no attachments—but lately she'd been getting a little too clingy.

She stopped me from getting up with a hand to my shoulder. Her breasts pressed against my back as she moved in closer, lips at my ear.

"I'm sorry." She moved her hand over my ribs and down my abdomen. "Let me help you forget, help you sleep."

Her hand wrapped around my cock, which quickly began to harden. That was the problem, though. I _needed_ sleep, and the exhaustion from sex always got me there, but the dreams that waited there made it the last thing I _wanted_ to do.

Gabriella hopped off the bed and dropped down in front of me. Her mouth was really good at two things: pissing me the fuck off and drawing an incredible orgasm out of me. I threaded my hands into her hair as she nudged my thighs apart with her head.

I looked down, watching her pink lips wrap around my cock, her hungry gaze locked on my face. I began to push my cock in and out of her mouth as she licked and sucked me like an expert. She moaned and groaned sexily. Yeah, she wanted it, and I gave it to her. Hard, fast, and hot down her throat. She swallowed perfectly as I let go into her mouth. She released me with a satisfied pop, and I dropped back on the bed. I was sated but still a bit anxious as she walked off to the bathroom.

She came back minutes later, fully dressed with her bag over her shoulder. She climbed onto the bed and leaned over to kiss me.

"Sweet dreams," she whispered, placing something on my chest as she hopped off the bed.

I was glad she was smart enough to leave this time. She'd pushed me far enough already. I sighed as I realized I was in for another restless night. I'd go for a run, take a shower, and blow a couple more hours before I went to check on my mother.

As I heard Gabriella shut the door to my condo, I picked up the piece of paper she'd left and realized she hadn't finished pushing me after all. She'd left a business card behind.

Dr. Avery G. Shaw

Board Certified Psychiatrist

Specializing in Psycho-therapy

I stared at the card for over five minutes, playing a tug-of-war in my head. I didn't know which was worse—admitting that I needed mental help, or living with this ever-exhausting lack of sleep. In the end, I knew I couldn't function like this anymore. The card was my salvation whichever way I looked at. If I got this Dr. Shaw to prescribe me something, I'd at least be able to function without the maddening feeling the insomnia brought me. Whether or not I liked Gabriella thinking she knew what I needed, I'd go see Dr. Shaw, and maybe... just maybe she held the key to fighting off the past.

# _Un_ professional Lure

# Xander

I'd talked myself out of contacting Dr. Shaw. Hashing up the past filled me with anxiety and would probably only serve in increasing the dreams and insomnia.

Three days later, I stopped to pick up a cup of coffee from my mother's favorite café. I'd parked my car up the street and walked the half-block distance.

Suddenly, there was a sharp sound of tires skidding across the asphalt that drew my attention. The oversized truck missed crashing into a car by inches before slowly moving on. As I turned back to the café, my gaze fell on a blue commercial awning across the street with the words _Oasis Psychiatric Center_ displayed on it.

I quickly pulled out the card I'd placed in my wallet a few days back. The logo and address matched. All signs kept pointing me to this Dr. Shaw. I crossed the street and entered the brick building into a lobby. A quick scan of the directory and I found her name listed on the third floor with a Dr. Matthew Evans.

I took the steps because I always found when I moved around, I'd think less. Standing in an elevator would make me second-guess my decision to check out this doctor.

I pushed through the double glass doors and was greeted by an older woman with graying hair. She did a double take as she recognized me. I noticed to the right was a door with Dr. Evans's plaque on it, and to the left was Dr. Shaw's door.

"Good afternoon. Uh... Mr. Pierce... How can I help you?"

"Is Dr. Shaw in?"

"Uh... yes, but wait..." she called after me as I made my way to Dr. Shaw's door. I didn't know what was wrong with me, but I needed to get in that office before I changed my mind. I felt a strange pull, like this was the place I'd find some kind of relief from the memories.

I pushed the door open and stilled. The receptionist said, "You can't just go in there."

At first, I thought I had the wrong office. The woman sitting behind the desk looked up from her phone call, and my body responded instantly. Her red hair was in a tight professional bun, but it made her features that much more striking. And when she looked up at me... her eyes were a stunning electric blue that darted over me in a thorough assessment. I'd never gotten so hard from just looking into a woman's eyes.

Now if she'd only stand up, I'd get to see if she had the kind of body my dick was anticipating.

#

# Avery

"Matthew, I have back-to-back appointments all week and I don't want to—"

"Avery, please this is very important to me—to us. We can network with a lot of people. It can bring in new patients."

"I know." I sighed, rubbing a hand over my eyes. "But—"

"We'll only stay two hours, I promise." He knew I'd do it, because no matter what, I always gave in. He barely let me get a word in edgewise, but we understood each other. After all, he was my best friend, business partner, and ex-boyfriend.

"Fine, but two hours and—" The door to my office flew open, and I looked up in surprise, gaping at the man towering in the doorway.

"Thanks, babe. Two hours, I promise." Matthew rattled on as I stared at the incredibly hot stranger who'd burst into my office. I ended the call, putting the phone down on my desk, and continued staring at him.

He was stunning.

He wasn't the kind of handsome you saw across the room and decided to flirt with a passing smile and shyly interested looks. He was the kind of man who made your heart start pounding, caused the fluttering to begin in your stomach, and arousal to ignite rapidly with a single glance. So alluring I'd risen from my seat and circled around the desk to get closer, making sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. They weren't.

He wore running shorts and a gray T-shirt that clung to his muscular frame. His hair was tussled in a sexy way. He was nicely built with broad shoulders and thick arms. His hips were slim, and I bet without the shirt he had the kind of abs I would want to worship with my tongue.

_God, what is wrong with me?_ I'd been so lost in my physical analysis of him I hadn't realized how pleased he was with my blatant show of appreciation. He smirked and lifted an eyebrow at me as if to say, _Have at it_.

"Can I help you?" I asked, crossing my arms. My receptionist had scurried in behind the man with a nervous look on her face.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Shaw. I tried to tell him he needed an appointment, but..." She held up her hands like he'd bum-rushed her in the lobby, and I completely understood. The man was tall, solidly built, with a stormy expression.

"It's okay, Angela. I'll take care of it." She looked at him, then back at me. "Angela..." I lifted my eyebrows, and she finally backed out of the room. He watched over his shoulder until the door clicked shut, then turned back toward me.

"What can I do for you?"

I walked back to my side of the desk to get some distance and forced myself to stop gawking at the man. He stalked forward, looked at me curiously, and asked, "You're Avery?"

"Dr. Avery Shaw."

He shook his head with this look on his face like I wasn't what he'd expected.

"I need you to give me something to sleep."

"Something to sleep?"

He leaned closer to me, his palms pressed to the shiny mahogany desktop. "A prescription, pills—whatever it is you therapists give out."

I uncrossed my arms and almost laughed at him. I knew his type: dominant, pushy, thinking he could command everyone in the room with a single word.

What the hell did he think I was? A street-side drug pusher?

"You can't sleep?"

"If I could fall sleep, would I have asked you for something to get me there?"

"Well, Mr...?"

"Pierce... Xander Peirce." He said it slowly, as though he were talking to a clueless child. He read the puzzled look on my face and smiled, then held out his hand. I stared at it and then looked back up at him. The eyes I thought were gray from across the room now appeared soft green up close. They looked almost transparent. The beauty of them capturing my gaze and holding it there. His intense stare engrossed me, and it felt like he looked right into me, reading my thoughts—attuned to his effect on me.

I reached out slowly, apprehensive of making contact with him. His large hand enveloped mine. I tried to quickly pull it back, but he held firm. I met his gaze. A heated look passed between us. Then he smiled, just slightly, but enough to reveal a pair of sexy dimples. As if the man didn't have enough in his arsenal.

This man was definitely a player, a _fuck them and leave them—rip your panties and make you take it_ type. I needed to duck for cover because interest lit up his eyes. I yanked back my hand and cleared my throat. If an ounce of what he made me feel showed in my tone, he'd have the upper hand.

"Well, Mr. Pierce, if you want me to help you with your insomnia, you'll need to make an appointment."

He shook his head, stood up straight, and crossed his arms. "I just need something to sleep. I don't want to sit in your chair while you try to get me to tell you my deep, dark secrets."

"I specialize in psycho-therapy. Judging by the way you stormed in here, you're not a patient man." I leaned over the desk, copying the stance he'd just taken. "But if you want my help, you're going to have to make an appointment like everyone else. You'll come in here and sit in that chair, or that couch, or even the floor if it makes you comfortable. I'll sit in my chair and I'll dig so deep into the dark recesses of your brain that I'll see what makes you laugh, cry, scream, and even what keeps you up at night. If your problem can't be treated, then we'll discuss drug therapy." I stood up straight, smoothed a hand over my skirt, and sat in my chair.

"I don't cry. Or scream. Why are you making this so difficult, Ms. Shaw?"

"Dr. Shaw. And you're the one making this difficult, Mr. Pierce." I rested my elbows on the desk and folded my hands. It was clear I had to take another approach with him.

"How do you expect me to fight the demons that keep you up at night if I'm not armed for combat? I need to know everything about them before I can help you get rid of them." I knew I wore a self-satisfied smile, but I didn't care. I loved a good battle of wits, and just because Xander Pierce appeared to be king of his world didn't mean I'd bow down to him in mine.

He leaned over my desk again. _Does the man need to be near me?_ Because in the five minutes he'd been here, he'd spent most of it hovering over my desk.

"You think you have me by the balls, don't you? That you have your fist squeezed tightly around my cock? I'm sure I can find plenty other doctors around here who will give me what I need."

I rolled my eyes and chuckled. He was trying to goad me with his abrasive vulgarity. Maybe he thought I'd give him what he wanted just so I wouldn't have to deal with his suggestive behavior.

I stood and leaned in toward him, eye to eye, our noses a mere inch apart. "I assure you, I am in no way interested in the _head_ you have down there. But I can guarantee you the head up here..." I tapped my finger on his forehead and licked my lips as the temperature of the room increased. "I'll suck it until it's spewing out things you didn't know were in there."

His eyes darkened with lust, and he lifted a brow in surprise. I only meant to throw his innuendos back at him, but the sexual energy in the room ratcheted up so high my pulse echoed rapidly in my ears. He tilted his head, and I feared he'd lean in and try to kiss me, even more frightened I'd let him. He smiled, then licked his lips. I followed the slow, seductive movement of his tongue, ached to trace it with mine. It took some effort, but I finally found the strength to step away. I removed my blazer because—let's face it—I was in dire need of a cool-off. I threw it across my chair and turned back to him.

"I like you, Ms. Shaw."

"Dr. Shaw."

"You sure you can't squeeze me into your schedule today? How will you sleep in your bed tonight knowing I'll be tossing and turning in mine?"

"The guilt trip won't work either." I shook my head sadly.

"You know, Dr. Shaw, I usually just fuck my way to sleep. Maybe you could invite me to your bed. Kind of like... a sleep study of sorts." _Hmm_... The devilish glint in his eyes told me sleep was the last thing he'd want to do in my bed.

"I wouldn't let you see my bed in _your_ dreams."

He smiled. I couldn't help but smile back as I admired the little dimple that appeared on his right cheek. "You win, Dr. Shaw... for now." He turned and strode out of the room without looking back.

I plopped down into my chair and let out a frustrated puff of air. Taking him on as a patient was clearly a mistake, especially with the attraction that sparked between us. In this small proximity, with that man, I had definitely felt my defenses weakening. The situation was disastrous. I was either screwed or I'd get screwed, and professionally, the latter wasn't an option.

# The Voices in My Head

# Xander

I don't _know why I let my mother talk me into this._ I thought I left this kind of thing behind in California.

The only good thing about being home was if I kept a low enough profile, I'd start to feel like a regular human being again. Not some famous entity whose life was up for evaluation every single day.

Coming to this party wasn't only a favor to my mom, but my dad who passed away six weeks ago. In his years in this town, my dad had become a pillar. He went from prosecutor, to mayor, then senator in twenty years.

His sudden heart attack left a burden on the state to replace him. This gala was an annual thing he started ten years ago when he'd become senator. Mom wasn't ready to make a public appearance, and with me being the _in control_ son, it was up to me to represent the family and, most importantly, my dad.

As I stood in the crowd among all the people my dad used to rub shoulders with, his voice rang in my ears. _Xander, you can't keep hiding. I shouldn't have to always jump on a plane to come see you. When are you coming home?_

I shook my head to clear the memory. Jonathan Pierce had been a force to be reckoned with. He was a staunch opponent, a devoted husband, and a more amazing father than I deserved. Staying in this town was my way of atoning for disappearing for so long.

" _Your mom misses you,"_ he'd said during one of his weekly calls. Silence. I was always quiet when he started in on me about coming home.

" _Xander?"_

I sighed. _"Yeah, Dad?"_

" _I've fixed everything for you. Haven't I always? What else do you need me to do to get you to come home? How much more do I need to sacrifice for you to show up? Even if it's just in passing."_

Rewind time and make it so I'd never been such a selfish idiot.

They say a parent's love is the greatest gift. For me, it was a gift and a curse. They poured their soul into me. Loved me and gave me everything I desired, and I felt invincible. Like anything I wanted in the world could be mine. Spoiled rotten is what it was, and it fit because I still couldn't figure out how to get rid of the dark pit inside me that made me want to take what I wanted and do anything to keep it.

The one thing I inherited from my parents had been their capacity of love. They loved big. But me? I loved hard. Dangerous love that brought out a rotten selfishness in me, a dark urge to preserve the one thing I became centered on.

" _Love drives us to make mistakes, Xander. When will you start forgiving yourself?"_

Fuck, I need a drink.

Sobriety wasn't working for me tonight. It was as if my father's ghost was looming in the room, whispering in my ear. He was my second-biggest regret in life and that just added to the dark burden I carried around.

Staying in this town wasn't easy, but it was my penance, my apology to my dad for not being brave enough to stand up to my ghosts and come home when he'd wanted me to.

" _Xan,"_ my dad's voice echoed in my head.

"Yeah, Dad," I whispered out loud to a memory, not caring who saw me talking to myself. _Fuck it._ I was already going to see a psychiatrist; I might as well go all in with the insanity.

" _Things will change for you. When you find what you've been searching for, you won't have to fight so hard to keep it."_

" _I'm not looking for anything, Dad," I'd answered._

" _You've always been looking. Mom and I always knew your love was too big for you. When you loved someone, you loved completely, with no shields. I know you shut that part of you down a long time ago, but one day you'll open yourself up again."_

And be pathetic again? I didn't think so.

" _You've just got to trust in yourself, Xan. Trust that you're enough. You deserve to move on, son. Deserve to be loved. You know we still love you despite everything, right?"_ The golf-size ball of emotions stuck in my throat kept me from responding. I nodded my head, though he couldn't see me.

" _You'll find someone to love you despite it all, too."_

I'd hung up the phone that night without uttering another word. No, _I love you, Dad, thanks, Dad,_ or a simple _bye, Dad_. If I knew then that would be the last time I'd ever hear his voice, I'd have told him all those things. I'd have purged the hurt in me to the one person left on this earth who would've understood.

I walked over to the bar and ordered a glass of water because—let's face it—I was already mumbling to ghosts. I didn't need alcohol to induce hallucinations. I decided to step outside for some air because it felt like my dad's memory was suffocating me in that room. I stood in a small alcove along the garden, where I thought no one would see me. After twenty minutes and two people _accidentally_ running into me and engaging in conversation, I knew I'd be making an early exit.

As I stepped back into the hall, a flash of red hair caught my attention. Maybe my mind was still playing tricks on me, but if Dr. Shaw was really here, I had to find her. Suddenly, I was in less of a hurry to go home and a bit fixated on finding her.

# Bow Down

# Avery

"Avery, darling, you look beautiful, as usual," Teresa Richardson said as she air-kissed me on both cheeks. Her sickly sweet smile made my stomach turn, but I pasted on a similar one as she started babbling on about her new charity. I never felt comfortable at these parties. I was too successful to mingle with the housewives, yet not successful enough to mix in with the high-profile businessmen. Matthew chatted with Teresa's husband, so I nodded and pretended to listen to what she was saying. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate her charity work; I just thought a little humility went a long way. I had a soft spot for those who did charity work and didn't thrive on the praise that came with it.

I saw a waiter passing by with a tray of wine glasses and slipped away to grab one. As I turned back to the group, I bumped into a solid wall of muscles and spilled half my glass all over his tux.

"I'm so sorry." I quickly dug in my bag for a handkerchief and began to pat the liquid off his seemingly expensive jacket. "I'm sorry I wasn't looking and I—"

"It's fine, Dr. Shaw."

That voice stilled the movement of my hand. With all my flustering, I hadn't even looked up to see my victim, but the smooth timbre of his voice was unmistakable. I looked up and eyed Xander.

Tonight he wore a black tux that molded to his broad shoulders and hard biceps. I wouldn't have thought it possible for him to look even more devastating than this morning, but he did. He was flawless. And though his hair still had that rumpled thing going, I was sure every strand was meticulously made to look that way. He went from grungy exercise clothes to seductively debonair in his tux effortlessly.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered as if he followed me here and we shared some sort of dirty secret. If we did, I'd remember all the dirty things I did to him—wanted to do to him.

"You didn't tell me you knew Xander Pierce," Matthew said as he joined us, hooking his arm around my waist.

"I don't."

"Now, Dr. Shaw, I thought we were becoming friends."

"We weren't." I shook my head.

"Matthew Evans, Avery's business partner." Matt held out his hand, and Xander shook it. He looked between Matthew and me. I saw him trying to figure out if we were just _partners_. Matt was a handsome man. The new buzz cut thing he had going with his hair only accentuated his honey colored eyes. At one point we had been more than just friends, but that was years ago.

"I was trying to get a session with Dr. Shaw, but she was fully booked. Or maybe she didn't care for my methods, because she shoved me to the bottom of her list."

"That wasn't the case, Mr. Peirce. I have other patients who've had appointments set for weeks. I can't just brush them aside because you demand it."

"Of course you can." Matthew jumped in. I looked at him as if he'd lost his mind.

"No, I ca—"

"Excuse us." Matthew pulled my arm and dragged me a few feet away from Xander.

"Yes, you can," he hissed through closed teeth. "We have a lunch hour together tomorrow. We'll reschedule and you'll see Mr. Pierce."

"You expect me to give up my lunch hour for him?" I jabbed my thumb back toward him while looking over my shoulder. He stood there staring at us with his arms crossed and a smug look on his face.

"Yes, I do. That's Xander Pierce!" I gave him an uncaring look and shrugged. "Xander Pierce... Actor turned Hollywood producer?"

I'd never heard of him, but I guess that had a lot to do with me being mostly focused on school and work for so many years.

"Are you serious, Avery? You need to get out more. Not to mention his father used to be senator, and this party is in his honor. You need to fit him into your schedule. You never know. We may become the therapists to a whole network of actors."

I sighed as my frustration grew. "I can't believe you're asking me to bow down to him." I didn't care how famous he was. I needed to hold firm, because I wasn't standing on solid ground, and he was quicksand. I glanced over my shoulder in his direction. He smiled and tipped his drink at me, an all-knowing expression on his face. Yeah... he was definitely quicksand, and the closer I got to him, the farther I'd sink.

"We're doctors. We help people." I knew Matt could go on all night with his reasoning. His eyes sparkled with determination.

"Fine." I rolled my eyes and gritted my teeth.

"That's my girl." He dropped a kiss on my cheek and pulled me back over to Xander. "Good news! She has an opening tomorrow."

"That's convenient."

"Actually, it's not. I'm giving up my lunch hour," I added bitterly.

"Oh... I wouldn't want you to starve."

_At least someone is being considerate._ I glared at Matt.

"I'll bring you lunch."

Ugh... Nooo...

"See, it all works out." Matthew smiled at the annoyed look I gave him. I hated how he knew he'd get his way. "I'll leave you two to work out the details. Mr. Pierce..." They both reached out and shook hands. "I hope to see you again soon."

"I'm sure you will," Xander said as he watched Matt walk off. "Boyfriend?" He nodded toward Matt.

"If I say yes?"

He looked at me and shook his head. "It won't stop me."

"What will?" I guess we were done beating around bush. We both knew what he really wanted from me, and maybe I'd get him to back off before that predatory gleam in his eyes turned him feral.

"I think you know the answer, Dr. Shaw."

I stared into his green gaze, knowing the unspoken attraction between us was the kind of thing I could lose myself in. "Be there at one tomorrow."

I turned and went to search out Matt. His two hours were up, and now that he'd thrown me to the wolf, I needed time to lick my wounds before I had to go up against him again.

# The Session

# Xander

Avery's hair was pulled back into that uptight bun again, not a stray tendril gracing her face. Last week at the Gala, it had been out in elegant loose curls. The moment I'd seen that fiery-red hair across the room, it called to me like a beacon in the sea of people. I didn't know what it was about the beautiful doctor that commanded my attention, but she definitely intrigued me.

She'd canceled our lunch session last week because she'd gotten stuck at the hospital. Or so she said. I knew she hadn't enjoyed conceding to me, so I wouldn't put it past her to have made up an excuse to cancel.

A week ago, I was sure she'd have a small involvement in my life. I thought I'd talk my way into getting some pills and forget I'd ever met her, but she'd surprised me. Her sophisticated beauty had thrown me off, and then she'd stood her ground and called me on my shit. I liked the way she exuded brilliance yet radiated beauty. And her gumption? I appreciated that too. She was the kind of woman I didn't come across often. She hadn't recognized me and didn't even bat her eyes when her partner told her who I was, and that was refreshing.

Over the past week, I'd become infatuated with the thought of her, and it was fucking with my head even more than the lack of sleep.

Avery cleared her throat, slid on a pair of glasses, and crossed her legs. The motion caused her skirt to ride up her thighs. I traced my lips with my index finger, attempting to figure out if she was trying to seduce me, or if she was completely clueless about how tantalizing she looked in her effort to be professional.

"Are you ready, Mr. Pierce?"

"Xander," I said, but it came out so gruff I knew she hadn't heard me.

"Excuse me?"

"Call me Xander."

"If it makes you comfortable."

"I'm far from comfortable, Dr. Shaw." I was frustrated, tired, and—thanks to her—my cock was hard, and I needed to fuck.

"So how long have you been having trouble sleeping?"

"A while."

"Can you be more specific?" She tapped her pen on her chin.

"Worse since I came back to town."

"Well, losing a parent can be hard on anyone. My condolences for the loss of your dad."

"This isn't about my dad. Good try, though." I tipped my head toward her briefly.

"Have you ever sought out help before?"

"No. And I don't need help. I just need something to get me to sleep."

"You do realize I looked you up? I know who you are." She scribbled on her notepad before making eye contact.

"I was counting on it." I smiled and winked at her.

Her frown deepened, and she grimaced. So using my celebrity wasn't going to work on her. "So you honestly thought I'd just write you a prescription knowing you're a recovering drug addict."

My fist clenched, and my mood turned sour. I let my head loll back for a few seconds and took a deep breath. I picked myself up and reminded myself not to snap at her.

Everyone thinks they know you. Everyone judges you.

I looked her in her eyes. Her gaze filled with judgment and disgust. "You shouldn't believe the things you read in gossip magazines, Ms. Shaw."

"Dr. Shaw," she corrected. I'd purposely fucked up her title to piss her off.

"Do all doctors around here judge their patients by the trash they read at the newsstands?" I raised an eyebrow.

She shifted in her seat but never broke eye contact. "Point taken, Mr. Pierce."

"It's Xander, and it's fine. Everyone thinks they know who I am by the shit they read in line at the grocery store."

"But I know better, and I apologize."

I shrugged, checked my watch, and ran my finger over the ring on my right hand. I watched her put the end of the pen in her mouth, and it was all I could focus on. I became completely fucking captivated by the way she bit on it, the tip of her tongue swirling around the stick. _Jesus..._ I shifted in my seat as my erection grew heavy—straining against my jeans.

I glanced down at my watch again as a way to stop imagining my cock taking the pen's place in her mouth.

"Are you in a hurry, Mr. Pierce?" I looked up as she uncrossed then recrossed her legs, wiggling slightly in her seat. Her sensual lure cried out to me, and I'd grown tired of beating around the bush. I never had a problem expressing what I needed from a woman, and I wasn't going to start now. I met her gaze directly, and she was too prideful to look away, but she wanted to.

"Xander." I corrected her again.

"What?" She pretended not to have heard me, but she just wasn't comfortable calling me by my name.

"If I have to tell you one more time to call me Xander, I will pin you to your desk and make you scream it until you get it right."

She stared at me, mouth slightly agape and eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"I think I was clear."

She broke eye contact, dropped her notepad on the table in front of her, and rose. She was clearly trying to put some distance between us, but she'd inadvertently gone to stand right in front of the desk I'd referred to.

"Why are you here, Mr—Xander? What is it you really want?"

I smiled as she caught herself from calling me Mr. Pierce again. It was too impersonal, and she used the formality to keep up that cinderblock wall she'd built between us. I rose from the chair and walked over to her. She clutched the edge of the desk and tensed from my violation of her personal space. I leaned into her, and she tilted back as far as possible.

"I want to sleep, Ms. Shaw, but if I can't do that..." I trailed my lips across her jaw and took pleasure in the shiver that passed through her body. "I want to fuck." I bit down on her earlobe. "You."

She gasped. "That's not something I can help you with." But her tone—all trembling and throaty—told me she ached to offer me some relief.

"But you want to." I licked the soft skin of her neck and felt her jaw muscles tighten as she gritted her teeth.

_God,_ how I wanted to break her, send her over the edge so she would release those soft moans and unsheathe the claws I knew she hid. I slid my hand over the back of her thigh, slowly moving past the silky fabric of her stockings to the warm, soft skin above. I felt heat radiating from her pussy as I slid my finger higher. I buried my head in her neck and focused on burying my finger into her wet heat.

I moved my hand over the crotch of her panties, and she jerked as if I'd electrocuted her. _Fuck_... I'd felt the current too. I've never wanted to bury my cock in a woman as much as I did this one.

What the fuck is it about her?

I traced the edge of her panties, and just as I was about to get what I really wanted from Avery, she reached out and put her hand on my forearm.

"Xander, please..."

Now she calls me by my name.

I knew I was asshole enough to do it anyway. Say fuck it and sink my finger into her pussy, because once I got my finger inside her body, she'd be as good as mine, but she'd pleaded with me—her tone borderline desperate. I wanted her, but I wanted her when she was ready to give it to me. I reluctantly pulled my hand from between her legs and stepped back.

She sighed. Her face was flushed, and her gaze darted everywhere except on me. She scurried to the other side of her desk and sat down, folding her hands on top of a stack of papers.

"You have to know this is inappropriate, Mr. Pierce." This time when she spoke, the confident kickass doctor was gone, because the woman who had nearly let me fuck her on the desk was embarrassed. She was fighting to regain control.

"I've never been one for propriety. I like things unpredictable and wild... and most times a little filthy."

"Oh God..." She covered her eyes with her hands and shook her head.

"Pleading to God won't save you, Avery. After that... we're definitely going to happen."

She looked up at me, her composed mask back in place. "No, we're not. I think you should look for another doctor. I can't treat you."

"But now that I met you, I don't want anyone else. If anyone can put me to _sleep,_ I'm sure it's you. I have an appointment for next week. See you then."

From the expression on her face when I turned to leave, she was pissed, but I didn't give a fuck. That was the most fun I'd had since I came back home, and I was excited to see how far I'd get in my next session with the sexy doctor.

# Sibling Rivalry

# Xander

I must be a masochist.

It was the only thing that explained why I stuck around here and stayed within blocks of the place that haunted me. Every day for six weeks I'd driven past it, and the same feeling always came over me. Overwhelming guilt, panic, and worse... dread. It felt like since I'd come back, I'd become anchored to this place, like I was being held here so some kind of justice could be dealt.

As I pulled up to the secluded house I'd leased, the feeling in the pit of my stomach grew sour. I parked the car in the driveway and stared at my brother sitting on the front steps. I wanted to pull off and never look back. Any confrontation with Ian felt like cutting into a barely healed wound. He'd been pushing and taunting me since I'd returned, and that day I thought I might just push back. I stepped out of the car, and he stood.

"Not today, Ian." I tried to bypass him, but he stepped in front of me.

"Then when, Xander? It's never a good time." He stumbled, trying to keep his footing. "You can't even look me in the eyes."

He reeked of hard liquor, and his eyes were bloodshot. "You're drunk."

"So you've managed to pull yourself out from the bottom of the bottle, and now you think you're better than me." He laughed dryly and rubbed his eyes. "Who am I kidding? We've never been equals. Not even when you were a drunk."

I watched as a car drove up the street. I became fully alert. There was a reason I'd chosen to rent out the most secluded place around, and it was the need for privacy. Privacy was hard to find anywhere, but I'd found a place on the outskirts of Seattle that offered a more woodsy feel. So far, my Hollywood life hadn't followed me out here, and I needed to know the second it did. The driver didn't pay much attention to us as the car slowly rolled past.

"Ian, shut the fuck up and go home." I looked over my shoulder to make sure the car hadn't stopped up the road to watch us. This was the kind of shit I avoided, the kind of shit that ended up in entertainment magazines. It happened before and the headline read: _Altercation between_ _Xander Pierce and his brother leads to arrests in a drunken brawl at local club._

That was years ago when Ian came looking for me in California. I'd thought we could fix our relationship. Be brothers again. It was clear to me now the damage between us was irreparable.

I shoved Ian out of my way and shuffled through my keys. "I don't need your shit tonight."

"And whatever Xander wants, he gets. Wait... even when you don't get it, you make sure no one else can have it either."

"Goodnight, Ian." My tone was dismissive, and anyone who knew me would've promptly left, but Ian was a wild card, and I never knew what he'd do. He sure as shit wasn't going to listen to anything I told him to do. I finally found the right key and pushed it into the slot.

"Do you even care anymore? Do you think about it?" His whispered words stilled my hand on the knob. I wanted to tell him I couldn't stop caring, but in a way I was a coward. I couldn't face him and admit how much it tore me up, even knowing I'd shredded him to pieces also. I wouldn't allow him see my pain, to enjoy my guilt. I'd much rather let him think I was a cold-hearted bastard than look weak in front of him.

"It just keeps getting worse, Xander," he said to my back. I turned the knob and stepped in with my heart in my throat and pushed the door shut without looking back at him.

I went straight to the bar. Whoever rented the place before me left it well stocked. I should've tossed it all out when I arrived, but this also played into the whole masochism thing. I left it there to taunt me, to tempt me, and I'd begun to think I was trying to punish myself. It'd been years since I'd had a drink. If anything could have made me fall off the wagon, it would be Ian and all the shit coming home brought back up.

I placed a whiskey glass on the bar top and poured the amber liquid out of the decanter. My hands shook as I lifted the glass. I put it up against my lips. The smell of it was nostalgic yet offensive. It was like running into an ex and remembering all the good times you shared, but the ugly memories quickly seeped in and darkened everything. Regardless, I still wanted to fuck her. I just wanted to bury myself so deep in her I'd lose myself for one night, and the next day I'd promise myself to give her up again.

The content of the little shot glass was like that woman. It helped me forget—helped me sleep. But I knew tomorrow I wouldn't be able to let her go. She'd fuck with me every single night—sing me a siren's song. Lure me in with her wickedly sexy warmth until I couldn't take a breath without thinking about her. This tiny little shot of whiskey would be my undoing, and I wasn't in a place where I'd give away an ounce of the control I'd gained back in my life.

I tossed the glass across the room, watching as it exploded against the wall. I needed to get out of this town, but I couldn't leave my mother alone with my unstable brother when grief overwhelmed her. My dad's death was eating her up.

I needed to find a way to forget again. I needed to sleep through the night. _Shit_... I needed to fuck. I snatched my phone up from the bar and sent Gabby a text.

How long will it take for you to get over here?

I thought u moved on.

How long?

I wasn't interested in all the other bullshit. I needed the physical exhaustion and a mind-numbing orgasm to escape it all.

I'm not coming.

Not coming? Was she throwing a tantrum because I hadn't contacted her in two weeks?

Seriously?

Tired of being used.

What the fuck? Used? I was upfront with a woman, and she accused me of using her. Obviously, it was my fault she thought she'd have the magic pussy that would tame me. I didn't have the patience to try to convince Gabby to come over. I was already spending far too much time trying to convince Avery as it was.

Good-bye, Gabriella

Several minutes later.

Really, that's it?

What the fuck did she want? Was she looking for me to chase her? Since _I just want to fuck_ wasn't clear enough to her, I'd make sure to be precise in letting her know we were done.

Fuck off, Gabby.

FUCK U, XANDER!

U already did. In several ways. Again, thx for that ;-).

The phone was silent. I thought she'd finally gotten the message and backed off, but then one last text came through five minutes later.

Bye, Xander.

I erased the conversation and her contact info before I placed my phone on the bar.

Three hours later, I was in Sleepless in Seattle, but not at all comparable to the movie. I picked up my phone and scrolled down to the cell phone number I'd taken from Avery's business card and sent her a text.

Restless. In need of therapy.

I got out of bed and walked out onto the patio that connected to the bedroom. The weather was mild, but what I enjoyed about being out here was the seclusion. I'd been keeping myself so busy for so many years that I never realized how taxing it all became.

In California, when I stepped out onto the balcony of my high-rise condo, it was all city light, traffic, crowds, and smog. Out here, the house sat on five acres of land. It backed up to a park that had acres of trees with a lake a short hike away. Here, the silence was apparent in the soft sway of the trees, the hoots of the owls, or in the chirp of the early morning birds. Not that we didn't have trees and birds in the city, but the sounds of the city were a white noise cloaking nature's song.

I sat back on the lounge chair and looked at the stars that seemed close enough to touch. This was the kind of peace that should put me to sleep, but it didn't. If anything, it was this kind of peace that ghosts lingered in, whispering in my ear. Those whispered memories were shouts without the city's white noise.

After half an hour of pretending I wasn't glancing at my phone, it lit up and vibrated against the glass patio tabletop.

No **coping** mechanisms tonight?

I smiled because the first thing that came to Avery's mind was whether or not I was fucking someone else.

Not unless you're willing to come by?

I offer mentally exhausting mind-fucks at an hourly rate. Interested?

Dr. Shaw, I knew u had a dirty side. Let's talk more about you fucking my mind.

Really quite boring. Lots of uncomfortable questions.

I chuckled _. I prefer uncomfortable positions._

I knew I shouldn't have responded.

But u did. Will you pick up if I call you?

No.

I expected that answer.

Why not?

She didn't respond, and I thought she'd come to her senses and turned off her phone, but then my phone came back to life.

It's better if I don't hear your voice.

That was the closest she'd come to admitting she was attracted to me.

Does my voice turn you on, Dr. Shaw?

No response.

Because your voice makes me hard as **fuck**.

My hand had found its way into my boxer briefs. I grabbed my cock, pulling it out because it had become a little too confining in there. She still hadn't responded. This time I was sure she'd cut me off. I tried to lure her in once more.

Would you like to see?

_NO!_ I smirked.

Well, that got her to respond. Now I knew she was still there, and I would've happily sent her the dick pic if she'd agreed. At least my dick would've finally gotten into her bed.

Goodnight, Xander.

Wait. One more question.

What?

Are you wet?

I pulled at my cock, envisioning her slipping her fingers under the sheet and between her legs to check. I was so _goddamn_ hard that when her text came through...

So wet.

Fuck! I stroked my cock harder—faster—hissing as the pleasure began to mount.

Can u touch it for me?

I slid my palm over the pre-cum leaking out my cock and imagined it was her fingers, wet from touching her pussy, wrapped around my cock.

What does it feel like?

I don't know what I did to get treated so well by Avery, but her next text proved to me I had a good chance at getting the real thing.

Soft, hot, SLICK.

I jerked. My hand shook as I stroked myself. My abdominal muscles clenched hard as I came with a surprised howl. The orgasm so powerful it made my head whirl as cum bathed my stomach and coated my fingers. I lay there with my dick in my hand and cool air brushing against my heated skin for several long minutes. I heard my phone buzz somewhere and turned my head to search for it.

I'd dropped it on the floor next to the lounger. I snatched it up and read Avery's last message.

That session was on me.

I dropped the phone to my chest, threw an arm over my eyes, and laughed. She'd purposely coaxed me to that orgasm. I kind of hoped it hadn't all been an act and she'd actually touched herself. If sexting with Avery blew my mind that way, the real thing was going to break me.

It would be difficult manipulating my way into the panties of a woman who spent her days _mind-fucking_ patients. She was smart, so I'd have to make her stop thinking so much and start feeling. One way or another, I needed to get inside her. I let the tugging call of sleep pull me away as I thought of Avery spread out on her bed, wet for me.

# Family Matters

# Avery

"Ellie, I'm home!" I called out from the doorway as I kicked off my shoes.

"In here," she replied.

I followed the spicy scent of tomato sauce and found Ellie in our state-of-the-art kitchen, dumping pasta into a colander.

"Hey, babe." I slid onto a stool at the huge center island I'd had built before we moved in. "This is different."

"What do you mean?" She smiled at me over her shoulder.

"You being home _and_ having time to cook."

Ellie spent so much time on campus I wasn't sure if she even lived here anymore.

"I know. I've taken after you, doubling up on my course load. I've been crashing in a friend's dorm a couple nights a week."

"A _friend_?" I arched an eyebrow.

"No, not that kind of friend. Just a girl I have a few classes with." I frowned at her, and she held out her hands and asked, "What?"

"You're twenty-two now, Ellie, and I've never seen you with a boyfriend."

"Hey, pot, I'm kettle," Ellie said sarcastically, holding out her hand, which I shoved away.

"No. You've seen me with Matthew."

She rolled her eyes. "Avery, that was over three years ago, and it was barely considered a _real_ relationship."

"And why's that?" I pulled my eyebrows together.

"Because you two were more like friends who fucked. There was no real... love there."

"I love Matthew!"

"As. A. Friend." She rocked her head from side to side with each word.

She was right, but I wouldn't admit it. It was the reason Matthew and I called it quits, because there was no real passion between us. "Maybe I'm trying to save you from my lonely existence."

"You wouldn't be lonely if you'd just let people in."

I laughed once at the irony. "I guess that's a problem we both have to overcome."

She smiled sadly, then continued to move about the kitchen. Ellie was all I had as family. We'd met in a foster home after my parents died. There'd been no one willing to take me in. The first place I'd been sent to was bad. The woman who ran it was sweet, but her husband was a drug addict who eyed me every time we were in the same room. Fortunately, my parents had one friend who did all she could to make sure I was transferred into a new home once she got a glimpse of what I was up against. I thanked God for her, because the next place was manageable and I'd found Ellie. There, we were ignored and left to fend for ourselves, but that had been way better than being somewhere where you got the kind of attention a little girl shouldn't be aware of.

Ellie, with her long blonde tangled hair, had been five years younger than me, and she'd clung to me from day one. The feeling of being needed became everything to me. I took that little eleven-year-old girl under my wing and never let her feel alone again.

The only problem had been that I aged out of the system way before Ellie. The day I left, she'd broken down. She thought I'd never come back, that she'd never see me again. I made a promise to her that day that I'd always come back for her, and it was exactly what I'd done. By the time Ellie turned eighteen, I had a college diploma and a trust fund that allowed me to keep us together as a family.

Ellie placed a plate of pasta in front of me and sat next to me with hers. She nudged me gently with her elbow to get my attention. "What are you thinking about?"

"How far we've come."

She smiled, one of those faraway smiles that happened when you took a trip down memory lane and were satisfied with where you ended up.

"Yeah, we have." She leaned her head against mine and sighed. "Family matters, right?"

"Yeah, Ellie, it does." _Family matters_ were the words I whispered to her every night, because if I didn't—in our situation—we would've forgotten.

"I love you, Avery."

"Love you too, Ellie." We tuned out the past and talked about her classes while we enjoyed the dinner she'd made us.

# Denial

# Xander

I thought Avery would cancel on me again. So when I walked in her office and Angela said she was waiting on me, I was surprised and relieved.

"I brought lunch," I announced, holding up the bag of sandwiches I'd picked up at the deli up the street.

"I already ate," she deadpanned, her gaze cold and emotionless.

_So that's how she wants to play this._ She'd prepared herself with a full-metal armor that consisted of a frosty attitude and clipped responses.

"Do you mind if I eat?" I smiled. She shrugged, still completely frigid and detached.

I sat across from her at her desk and took out my lunch. "So are you from Washington, Avery? Or did you move here from somewhere else?"

She didn't respond, just looked at me. The contrast between her auburn hair and striking blue eyes was fascinating, even when she was shooting ice-cold daggers at me.

"Come on, give me something."

She sighed. "Born and raised here."

I smiled but quickly wiped it off when I noticed her annoyance.

"Your parents must be glad you stayed close to home."

Her frown deepened. "My parents are dead."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was a long time ago."

"Are—"

"Are we here to talk about me or you?" She cut me off, sensing another question coming on.

"I'm just building a trusting relationship with my therapist."

She narrowed her eyes and quietly watched me eat. As soon as I crumpled the wrapper from my lunch and tossed it in the trash, she rose from her desk. "We've wasted enough time. Let's get started."

She grabbed a notepad and pen and led me over to the couch. She sat in her black, tufted, high-winged chair and crossed her legs.

"Do you have trouble falling asleep or staying there?" She jumped right in. She was all about being a professional, and I was waiting for my opportunity to shake her up.

"If I have a _friend_ to keep me company, then I have no problems getting to sleep."

"So you use _sex_ to get to sleep."

"You say it like there's something wrong with it."

"Nothing's wrong with it, but it's just a coping mechanism." She nervously bit on her pen with that comment. She was probably remembering the text she'd sent me the other night. "Sooner or later you're going to have to deal with the underlying problem." She scribbled in her notepad, then continued. "So after you... cope—"

"I prefer fuck." I cut her off.

She glared at me. She wanted to respond, but that would involve breaking her professional stance. She took a deep breath and kept her comment sealed behind her tight-lipped grimace.

"How long are you sleeping afterward?"

"I really think you would be a lot more informed if you just observed—or participated in the whole process." I grinned. She ignored my comment. _Again_.

"Do you drink alcohol to get to sleep?"

"I'm a recovering alcoholic, Dr. Shaw. Which I'm sure you know since you keep updated with reliable entertainment magazines."

"Someone told me not to believe everything written in those."

"Smart person."

There was a trace of a smile on her face. Maybe the ice queen routine was thawing.

"So you say your insomnia started when you came back to town. Are you aware of anything that would trigger this? Family issue? Anything traumatic associated with coming home?"

"No."

"You're not even trying."

"You asked me a question and I answered it."

"Way too quickly. You didn't even think about it. If you don't want to talk to me about what's keeping you up at night, why are you here?"

"Because I enjoy your company."

"This is a waste of my time, Mr. Pierce. Maybe you should make another appointment when you get serious about this?"

"Oh, I'm serious, Dr. Shaw. I seriously would like to stop playing this game."

"What game?" _She's in denial._

"Can I ask you a question, Dr. Shaw?"

"By all means." She looked at her watch. "We're still on your dollar."

"In your professional opinion, would you agree that denial is a big problem with your patients?"

She nodded.

"Your job is all about getting people to open up and be honest."

"Seems to be the crux of the matter with you, Mr. Pierce."

"It's Xander." She glared. I continued. "So it would only be fair that you be honest with me before I can open up. You know... the building trust thing again."

"Are you going to get to the point?"

"I need to know how long you're going to keep denying this attraction between us."

"There's no—"

"Wait..." I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my thighs, tilted my head, and studied her intently. "Just know, whether you deny it or not... we're going to fuck, Avery."

"Mr. Pierce—"

"I thought we were past the formalities."

"It's the only way to maintain any professionalism with you!" And just like that, she broke out of character. She surprised herself with that outburst, but it was exactly what I intended. Her demeanor before had been rigid, and she'd covered herself in a shroud of professionalism that was more of an iron-clad shield. A shield she'd put up to block my advances. Her skin flushed, and she breathed raggedly—angrily.

"Since I'm paying you to be professional, I insist you call me Xander. Besides, I like the way my name sounds rolling off your tongue. And that look you get when you say it..."

"There isn't any _look_."

"Oh, there is... because each time you say Xander, you say it in this breathy whisper and you cross your legs together as if that will help the ache you're feeling in your pussy."

"Mr. Pierce..." she said in a warning tone I chose to ignore.

"Then you get this faraway look in your eyes. Tell me... what are you thinking about, Avery? You see it, don't you? The images of us, hot, sweaty, fucking like-"

"Xander!" She jumped out of her seat and walked straight to the door. "We're done here."

She held open the door, waiting for me to leave. I considered using other tactics to get her to admit to her attraction to me, but I knew I'd pushed her too far already. She wouldn't even look me in the eyes as I passed her, and the door slammed shut as soon as I made it across the threshold.

I pulled my phone out as soon as I got to the car and dialed the one person who'd get me anything I needed to know about Avery.

"Hello?" Marcus answered.

Marcus was my agent, best friend, and sometimes private investigator because he had a way of finding things out about people.

"I need you to check someone out for me."

"Who? And more importantly, why?"

"Her name is Dr. Avery Shaw. I'm seeing her to help me get to sleep."

"You can't sleep? I thought it was getting better."

"Not since I came back here."

"I told you, you should've bailed weeks ago. Why are you sticking around and going to a shrink? You do know if the press gets ahold of this, you'll be a drug addict and mentally unstable."

"I don't give a fuck. Just check her out for me."

"Do you think she'll leak info to the press?"

"No, she's not like that. She's..."

"She's what?" I didn't respond, and after an awkward couple of seconds of silence, Marcus got it. "Oh... you have a thing for your therapist, and she shut you down."

"She didn't shut me down."

"Yes, she did." He laughed. "The great Xander Pierce is cock-blocked by a woman with professional decorum. And now you think you can dig into her life so you can figure a way in."

"Can you do it or not?"

"I'll look into it, but only because I want to know who you're trusting with your deep, dark secrets."

"Thanks." I hung up, but we both knew I would never trust anyone besides Marcus with my secrets.

# Sexual Misconduct

# Avery

# "Dr. Shaw?"

I pressed the intercom button on the phone to respond to Angela. "Yes?"

"Mr. Pierce is here to see you."

"Please inform Mr. Pierce that his appointment is for next week." I heard Xander arguing, then trying to charm his way in, and laughed when Angela shut him down. I'd purposely pushed his appointment forward a week. Maybe with the extra time, he'd be ready to open up. Or maybe I was the one who needed the time. As much as I'd like to pretend Xander was creating an imaginary connection between us, it was there. I just wasn't going to acknowledge it, no matter how much he tried to shove it in my face.

I walked over to the coffee pot and poured my second cup, but really, it was an excuse to look out the window and watch Xander leaving. The second he came into sight, my pulse quickened. He wore dark blue jeans, black boots, and a white Henley that clung to his body. From three stories up, his aura was powerfully affective. Even his stride as he crossed the street was more of a sexy prowl.

He pulled open the door to the café across the street as I put my coffee cup against my lips. He held it open as a woman pushed out a stroller, and just before stepping in, he turned and looked up my way.

_Shit_.

I jumped back, spilling the contents of my cup all over the front of my blouse. I put down the cup and tugged the shirt away from my skin. Just what I needed, coffee burns, plus Xander saw me watching him.

"Dr. Shaw?"

I pushed the intercom again. "Yes?" _Please don't let Xander be back._ I knew he'd seen me watching him in the window, and I didn't need a run-in with him at that moment.

"I'm leaving for lunch now." _Okay. He's not back._ _Thank God._

"Okay, Angela. See you in an hour."

I unbuttoned my blouse and prayed I still had a backup shirt in my coat closet. I tossed my ruined blouse in the closet and pulled out an old black blouse I found in there. My bra was soaked so it joined my shirt at the bottom of the closet. I'd just have to make sure I kept my blazer on all day so no one could tell I was going braless.

As I slid my arms into the sleeves, the door swung open. I was seconds from screaming at Matthew for always forgetting to knock, but it wasn't Matthew standing at the door. It was Xander. He stood there staring at my fully exposed breasts with a shock that morphed into all-out desire in three seconds flat.

I yanked the ends of the shirt together and held it shut. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I... I..." He stared at my breasts, though I'd already covered them up. His gaze made me feel like the shirt didn't exist—like I was still exposed to his hungry gaze.

"You can't just barge in here whenever you want."

"I saw your secretary leave, and... I..."

_Shit_.

He couldn't even stay focused on what he was trying to say. His lustful gaze traveled up and down my body. He was ready to pounce, and I needed to get him to simmer down. The attraction between us was real. The realest thing I've ever felt. An energy shifted in the air between us, making me feel things I never thought were possible. Not even with Matthew had I ever felt this rush of passion and lust.

He pushed the door shut. I spun around, trying to button my blouse, but my fingers shook violently. Two hands covered mine. I froze. He was close. _Too_ close. His hard cock pressed against my ass. He leaned into me, the stubble on his chin scrapping against my neck.

"Don't shut it."

God, he smells so good.

I was about to lose this seduction game we played. I wasn't even sure it ever was a game, because there was no competition between us. It was obvious we both felt this chemistry. It was overbearing—suffocating. We wanted to act on it—needed to. I'd been trying to be the logical one. But as he loosened my grip on the shirt, exposing me to the cool air, all rationale flew out the window.

"Xander..."

"Let me touch you." His tone was gruff, filled with need. And demanding.

No... yes... No!

Though my mind was conflicted, my body was confident in its needs. I leaned back into him, resting my head on his shoulder. He splayed his hands over my midriff, slowly trailing them over my sensitive skin. When he reached the underside of my breasts, he gently cupped them, and then his thumbs brushed across my painfully erect nipples. Gooseflesh spread across my skin. I shuddered. I was wet—achingly so. My clit throbbed, breaths shortened. I was a massive ball of white-hot sensation.

He bit my neck, then pinched my nipples, causing me to gasp. I pushed back against him. He hissed as I brushed my ass against his solidly thick erection. I lost track of time because one second his hands were on my breasts, then my thigh, and next he was parting my wet flesh.

I reached behind me and dug my fingers into his jean-clad thighs in an attempt to keep from crumbling. He steadied me with a hand on my waist, then pushed me forward until I leaned over my desk, breasts pressed against the wood surface. He pushed up my skirt, then ran a hand over my ass before peeling down my panties. He used his foot to spread my legs wider, and then his hand was back, rolling my clit, teasing my wet flesh until I moaned and pushed back against his fingers. He slid one finger into me, slowly gliding in then out. It was torture, made me ache more. And he gave me more by adding another finger, stretching me, as his erection pressed against my ass, large and rigid.

I groaned and pushed back into his prodding digits. He snorted. "Knew you'd be this fucking hot."

He pulled out his fingers. There was a shuffling sound, followed by the distinct clink of a belt buckle and rasp of a zipper. A jolt of excitement raced up my spine as the anticipation built in me. I heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper. Then he leaned over me, palms braced on the desk, cock nudging against my entrance.

I sucked in a breath that ended on a hiss as he breached me with his thick cock. He filled me perfectly yet stretched me painfully with each inch he fed me. It felt _achingly sweet_. Like a sugar rush that went straight to my head.

" _Holy fuck,_ " he groaned as he bottomed out inside me. "So... fucking... tight." He growled, then fucked me harder. "Your cunt is so fucking greedy for this cock. Tell me you want it."

He'd been crude and foul-mouthed from the start. Now that he was backing it up with action, I had to admit I liked it. It turned me on, fed the fire building in me.

"I want it." I gasped.

_Shit,_ I prayed to survive because the man's dick truly felt like a thick steel rod. "So... big..." I managed between his sharp thrusts. My stuttered words didn't slow him down. He'd established a rhythm, working me hard, pushing against that bundle of nerves in just the right way. I held the edge of the desk in a white-knuckled grasp. He shifted, his forehead resting against my spine, his thrust less calculated—more erratic.

_He fucking shuddered._ Knowing I was making him lose control, making him crumble, made me wetter—more aroused.

"I need you to come, baby," he mumbled, or _begged,_ against my back.

Baby? _Fuck!_ That soft plea caused a fluttering feeling in my belly. The aching pressure in my clit, the delicious slide of Xander's cock-those were things I could deal with. _Fluttering?_ I couldn't deal with that. It bordered on the kind of emotions I didn't want. This was supposed to be an emotionless fuck.

He straightened, yanked my hair, and sped up. He pounded his cock into me with long, desperate thrusts that caused my pussy to pulse, my breath to catch, and my nipples to bead. I'd craved this moment from the second I laid eyes on him. I'd yearned for him—hot and sweaty, pounding me with his magnificent strength, demanding I submit. Now it was all too real.

An intense orgasm built in me. I burned with need, was so wet he glided in and out of me effortlessly. I whimpered at the delicious sensation. The sharp pain from the hair pulling, the growling animalistic sounds he made, and the crown of his cock pushing against that sensitive spot inside me were overwhelming. I went over the edge brutally yet beautifully. My orgasm raced through my core, rippled along my clit, and sent a roaring wave of pleasure zapping amidst my nerves. Leaving me lax and breathless.

I saw bright spots behind my tightly shut eyelids as Xander plunged deeper, imbedding his thick cock inside me and coming with a raspy, "Oh... fuuuuck..."

His cock pulsed and his body trembled with his release. He left a series of bites up my back and at the back of my neck, growling as he pushed himself deeper even though he'd already come. He was hot and sweaty against my back, fighting for air as we both came down from the most astounding sexual encounter of my life.

After several long minutes of floating then descending—twitching and trembling uncontrollably—he pulled out, and we slowly stood. I turned around, pulled down my skirt, and buttoned my blouse with trembling fingers. The aftereffects were fierce and my senses were a bit frayed.

He took two stumble-steps back and dropped into a chair—his cock still exposed, half hard, and twitching like it wanted to come back up to play. He noticed me watching it and smiled, lifting his eyebrow and flashing me his dimples.

Sexy asshole.

He licked his lips, then sighed. "We got to do that again."

"No. We shouldn't have done it to begin with." He gave me an incredulous look. Because _seriously,_ who wouldn't want to do that again? But this wasn't about what I wanted. It was about what was safer. Saner.

"Come on, Avery, that was—"

"Doesn't matter. It won't happen again."

"Why?" He gave me a lust-filled look, sweeping a hand over his cock like he was petting it. "You made me come. So. Fucking. Hard." He bit his bottom lip and lifted that damn eyebrow again.

"Could you stop?"

"What?" He was so fucking calm and nonchalant, but everything about him screamed _come fuck me_.

"Stop touching yourself. Stop flashing me your dimples. Stop talking dirty to me in that sex-filled voice. Just stop!"

"Fine." He tucked his hardening cock back into his jeans and stood. He reached out for me, and I sidestepped his touch. "Can I see you tonight?"

"No. This can't happen again."

"Why?"

"Because I'm supposed to be your therapist. The board frowns upon doctors sleeping with their patients. I'm sure they'd label this as sexual misconduct."

"Sexual misconduct? We're consenting adults."

"And I'm supposed to be a professional first. I should've conducted myself accordingly."

"The word conduct shouldn't even be associated with what just happened here. If you're thinking about your behavior when you fuck, then you're doing it wrong."

He approached me again, and this time I couldn't get away. He pulled my arm until I was pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around me like a steel band.

"Xander." I tried warning him off, pushing my head back as he leaned forward.

"One kiss, then I'll leave."

_One kiss?_ I stared at him because we both knew one _look_ between us was all it took.

"Come on, Avery," he whispered, his lips close enough to easily steal the kiss he'd asked for. "It's not fair that I've sunk my cock in you and still haven't tasted those pouty little lips." I frowned. "One day I'm going to make you smile."

He ensnared me with his green gaze, which sometimes looked gray. I couldn't figure out if his eyes changed colors or if they reflected amazing hues in their shimmering depths. Whenever he gave me that heavy-lidded stare with those soft-green eyes, I lost myself every single time.

He leaned in slowly, lightly pressing his lips against mine. He licked at my lips, then nipped them with his teeth until I surrendered, opening up to his invading tongue. The moment his tongue touched mine, he sucked me right back in. There was a madness in our attraction, a demented little ache which quickly blossomed into a salacious urgency that nagged at me— _begged_ me to feed it. Never mind that it had just been satisfied minutes before.

And _God,_ did Xander know how to satisfy that hunger. It would've been okay if the hunger went away, but it returned with a blaze as soon as we kissed. His lips were firm and strong, tongue plunging into my mouth with strong devouring strokes.

It was odd that we'd fucked before we'd kissed. But the kiss seemed more intimate, like we were sealing some bond we'd just created. Besides how wet it made me, it caused my heart to pound, that fluttering in my belly to blossom again, and a complete shutdown of my mind. He was fucking the sense out of my head with his tongue. He used it as effectively as his cock, teasing his way into my mouth, then ravaging me. His hands cupped my ass, fingers digging in as he pulled me up against his hardening cock.

If I wasn't carful, in a few short minutes, my legs would be wrapped around his waist and his cock would be driving deep within me again. I pushed at his chest; he ground into me. I pushed again and pulled my head back, breaking the kiss. He stared down at my lips. I almost saw his mind working in that wicked gleam in his eye. He wanted to kiss me again, most likely until I gave in and let him fuck me again. He was insatiable, but I was uncompromising as I slipped out from his hold and put the desk between us.

"This isn't over," he said before turning and leaving me alone with his scent wrapped around me and a bittersweet soreness between my legs. Xander Pierce was on a mission, and he was going to leave me completely annihilated.

# Decisions

# Avery

"I'm sorry I'm late," I said as I threw my jacket down on the bench opposite Matt and slid into the booth.

"It's fine. I ordered for you." Matt gestured at the Panini already situated on my side of the table. I'd been seeing patients at the hospital all morning and, honestly, I was still out of sorts over what happened with Xander.

"I did something really stupid, completely out of character, and unethical." I needed to confess. I'd been running over that scene in my office for two days and still couldn't figure out what to do.

"Calm down, Avery. Whatever it is it can't be that bad."

"I have this patient—"

"Xander." I gave him an irritated look. He smiled.

"Matt, I'm trying to not break doctor/patient confidentiality here."

He chuckled. "Uh-huh... Okay, so you have this mysterious patient, and...?"

"He doesn't take our sessions seriously. He's cocky, arrogant, crude, pushy, and..."

"And?"

I covered my face with my hand and peeked through my fingers at Matt. "And I fucked him," I mumbled.

Matt choked on his food, picked up his glass of water, and drank it. Then he began to laugh.

"This isn't funny. I'm totally failing as his therapist, and it's probably because every time we're in the same room, I can't concentrate on anything but his sexy dimples and that body and how I want to lick his—"

"Wait... you're serious?" Matt gaped at me.

I nodded.

"First. Let's not get X-rated in here. We both know you're really good at licking... whatever it is you were going to say, but I digress. Since you've already stepped across the line, you need to resign as his therapist. I mean... you actually slept with him?" His eyebrows were furrowed, and he gazed at me like I was going to tell him I was joking at any minute.

I gave him a look that answered his question.

"Wow. I never thought you'd get over me." He smiled because we both knew our breakup was mutual, and moving on wasn't a problem. I just didn't want to complicate my life with a relationship. I rolled up a napkin and tossed it at his smug face.

"What am I going do, Matt?"

"I just told you. Quit."

"No... I mean what am I going to do about getting him to back off."

"Is that what you really want?"

I put my forehead on the table and sighed. "I don't know."

"Hey." I looked up. Matt leaned closer, with his forearm braced on the table. "I know you hate letting people in. Afraid to love because you're scared it'll get taken away. You don't have to love the guy. Just have fun while he's still in town."

I sighed. "I'm not afraid. I let Ellie in. I let you in."

"It took you years to really let me in. Before that, you were an ice queen."

"So what are you saying? That I shouldn't be wary when someone who can't even open up to me as a patient is slowly weaving their way into my life?"

"You should always be wary, sweetie, but let someone hop over that wall you've built every once in a while."

"And what happens when they get tired of hopping over it and knock it down? I'll be unprotected."

He covered my hands with his and looked at me with a serious gaze. "If he does anything to hurt you, I'll be here to help you rebuild that wall. Okay?"

I knew he would. Matt had been there for me since our second week of college. He'd been my lab partner, study partner, and friend. By the time I started medical school, he was my roommate and lover. We ended up being best friends and colleagues because we just didn't work as a couple. We had our own office while still occasionally working shifts at the local hospital. Everything was as we planned. Except we were both still single.

*~*~*

Two days later, I couldn't get Xander out my mind. He hadn't called or shown up, which made me nervous. I just wasn't sure if I was nervous he'd pop out when I least expected, or that I'd never see him again. I suspected I was more concerned with the latter.

After back-to-back sessions at my office, I got in my car and received a text from Ellie as I started the ignition.

Where are you?

Just leaving work.

I'm at the restaurant.

I'll be there in five.

We tried to have dinner every Friday night. Ellie had skipped out on me early the last three weeks in a row. I was hoping we'd get some time to shut off the rest of the world and just be us again.

The Italian restaurant was crowded when I arrived, but the hostess quickly ushered me to a table near the back where Ellie waited for me.

"We live in the same house but never see each other anymore." I slid into the booth.

"Finals are coming up and there's a lot happening on campus."

"When the semester ends, we should go to Aruba for a week." She looked unimpressed. "What? You love it there. We can sunbathe all day and have drinks by the beach at night."

"I can't, Avery. I'm going to try to get a summer job."

"Why?"

"Because I need to be able to pull my weight. You can't take care of me forever."

"I'm not planning to, but since I'm capable of doing it, you should take advantage and concentrate on school." She nodded, but I wasn't convinced she agreed with me.

The waiter came and took our orders, gathered the menus, and left.

"You know I don't mind, right?" I continued where we left off.

"But I do. You've always been there for me. I want to be able to do things for myself and eventually do things for you."

"And you will as soon as you graduate and get a job."

"Whatever."

"What's the matter with you lately? You don't come home. You're so moody and quiet."

She sighed. "I'm just stressed with school and trying to find a job. I'm sorry if I'm taking it out on you."

I nodded, but something nagged at me. We ate most of our meal in silence, only chatting about upcoming exams and school activities. She fidgeted a lot and was anxious. I knew she was looking for an excuse to run off.

Right before dessert, her excuse came in the form of a text message. She checked the message and said, "I got to go."

She threw down her napkin and got up. I grabbed her wrist before she ran off. "What's going on, Ellie?"

"Nothing."

"If this is about what I said about you getting a job, we can talk about it. I can probably get you a job at the hospital this summer."

"It's not." She grabbed her tote bag and tried to pull her arm free from my grasp.

"I only want what's best for you."

"I know, and you don't get that being able to take care of myself is what's best. What would I do if anything happens to you? I'd be hopeless."

"You'd be fine because everything I have would be yours."

She smiled sadly and shook her head. "I love you, Avery. One day I'll make you proud of me." She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

"You already do," I said before she rushed out of the restaurant. Ellie had a life to live, and soon I'd be alone again, and that was even scarier than having to let someone in. I dropped a few bills on the table and scooped up my purse. I wasn't sure if I was making the right decision, but Xander made me feel alive, and I just wanted to feel that again—even if it was only for a couple nights.

# Ruined

# Avery

Xander opened the door with a puzzled look on his face. His hair was wet, feet bare, and he wore only a pair of running pants.

"How'd you know where I lived?"

"You may have secluded yourself out here, but the whole town knows where the movie star is staying."

He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. The rippled muscles of his abdomen looked even better than they'd felt when I touched him over his shirt. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to tell you I quit. I can't be your doctor anymore."

He put both hands behind his head and laced his fingers together. The move put the lean muscles of his upper body on display. My eyes were drawn to his dusky nipples, down the smooth skin of his torso, and ended at the very large bulge at the front of his lightweight pants. Before the other day in my office, it had been three years since I had sex. Now I couldn't even look at a half-naked man—well, _Xander_ — without wanting to salivate at his feet.

"Don't do this, Avery. We had a good time the other day. Don't run away from what's happening between us." He looked irritated.

"No, you don't understand. I. Quit." I stepped forward, reached out, and ran a hand over his chest, down his abs, then around his waist. Then I looked up at him and said, "Now there's nothing stopping us."

A slow smile spread across his lips as realization hit him. Then he cupped my face in his hands. "I can't believe I'm even going to ask this, but are you sure? Because once I shut this door, you may never leave."

I smiled up at him. "You're so full of yourself."

"No..." He leaned in, his lips softly brushing against mine. "I'd rather _you_ be full of me." A cocky smirk played on his lips before they came down on mine. He took a few steps back, pulling me along with him, and slammed the door shut.

He kissed me. I reciprocated. It wasn't a sweet, tender kiss. It was an aggressively wild kiss. The kind that was so untamed neither of us had any control over it; it just raged through us. Our lips mashed, teeth clinked, and tongues battled a war we'd both win and lose. Because in the end, the kind of pleasure we sought—the kind of pleasure we knew we'd get from each other—would destroy us emotionally but leave us both physically victorious.

"Xander..." I whined. "Bed."

"Fuck the bed. I want to taste you now." He grabbed both sides of my blouse and tore it open. The forceful move caused my back to hit the door, and the buttons to fly off and scatter. His gaze became glued to my see-through white lace bra. He reached out and ran a single fingertip over my nipple, causing it to pucker under his smooth caress.

"Take it off." His voice rumbled low and gritty. He'd snap soon. He'd jump over the edge and I'd follow him there just to quell a small fraction of the urgency and desire rushing though my body.

I slid off my shirt, then reached behind and slowly unhooked it, letting the straps slowly glide down my arms until it fell to the floor. He reached out, almost cautiously, cupping my breasts in his hands. He took his time familiarizing himself with the weight of them, caressing the skin, then rolled his thumbs over each nipple. My back arched, eyes squeezed shut because I never knew such a simple touch could affect me so desperately. I felt his touch through every cell, and it stole my breath and what little sense I had left.

"So fucking sexy." He lowered his head and sucked my nipple into his warm mouth, His tongue swirling around it. Then he quickly nipped it with his teeth. I swayed. He scooped me up and carried me to the couch.

He yanked my skirt over my hips, tore off my panties, but left the garters fastened. He ran his fingers up my thighs, over my hips, then down over my pussy. I was dragged down the couch by my waist, where he positioned my ass so it pivoted on the armrest.

I didn't remember how I imagined it would be, but Xander was better than any of my expectations. Once he dropped to his knees, he went to work and never stopped. He started low, licking my thighs and pressing closed-mouthed kisses over my pussy. He used his thumbs to spread me open, then slowly licked the inner sides of my lips. My hips jerked up in an effort to rush him, but he continued undeterred.

Heat spread through my body, yet goose bumps formed on my skin. I was feverish from the ache in my clit. He was tortuously keeping me on edge. Licking over, around, and beneath the one place I needed him to.

"Xander... please... please... please..." I'd been reduced to a begging, whimpering mess.

"What do you want?" His words were mumbled against my flesh and the vibration echoed on my clit. I shivered. He lifted his head and looked me in the eye. His lips were moist with my arousal. He licked them.

Fuck, I want that tongue on my clit!

"Aren't you the ballsy doctor who called me on my shit? Own your pleasure. Tell me what you want me to do to this pussy." He leaned in and rubbed the tip of his nose over my clit, and my back bowed from the bolt of pleasure.

"Fuck! Oh God!"

"Don't cry out to him for mercy. I'm the only one who can give you what you want. Now fucking beg _me_."

"Sadistic bastard," I mumbled when he backed off again. He bit my thigh. I yelped. "Xander... please... put your tongue on my clit... please."

He growled and dove back in. The first sweep of his tongue over my clit was soft and slow... once, twice. By the third time, I lifted my hips and pushed my pussy into his face. My modest side couldn't compete with the wanton fire burning in me.

His smooth swipes turned into a steady rhythm of solid flicks. Then he wrapped his lips around my clit and sucked. Red-hot heat coursed through me. I writhed. He restrained my hips with his hands. I panted, tossing my head and straining my neck. I'd never felt anything like it. He worked my body into a frenzied inferno I wasn't sure he'd be able to douse.

Then... he proved me wrong. In one swift move, he drove two thick fingers into me, licked the sensitive underside of my clit, and I rocketed into my orgasm. The wild eruption of pleasure was excessive, but I still craved more.

He slowly lapped at my clit, sending steady waves of shocks pulsing through me. Then he stood up, pulled down his pants, and his cock jutted out. Though it had been in me before, I'd never actually seen him fully aroused. It was massive and thick. He had an upturned cock that pointed toward his abs. I watched as he stretched the condom over the plump crown and rolled it down.

He moved toward me. I started to pull back, but he caught my legs, pulled my ass back on the armrest, and spread my thighs. "Don't. Fucking. Move."

"Xander..." I whined. "You're too..." He rubbed the tip across my slit. I moaned. "Too... big..." The last word came out as a screech as he pushed his cock into me, pulled back out, and pushed in farther. I tried to reach out and hold him off—slow him down—but I couldn't reach. He stretched me, filled me to the hilt, leaving me choking on my words.

"And you're so fucking tight." He gave me several short, slow thrusts before he lost hold of his restraint. He pounded me, his fingers digging into my waist, his muscles flexing with each aggressive lunge.

His thrusts were deep and wild, building a frenzied need for release in me again. I rolled my hips into his thrusts, clutching the cushions for support. Took desperate breaths as my nipples pebbled into aching buds, my pussy throbbing for release.

"Pussy's so fucking hot."

"I'm gonna come," I moaned.

He shook his head, gazing at me like a man possessed. "Take more."

"Oh... Fuck... I can't."

"Take everything I give you and tell me how much you like it."

I needed to come badly, or I needed something to center me, take me out of the moment, because I was going to tip over. "I like it." He bumped against my clit and I jolted. "Oh God... I love it... I love your cock."

I wanted to feel his skin pressed against mine, his breaths against my ear, but he kept his distance. We both knew if we added even the merest touch to our already magnified level of intimacy, this would become more than a simple fuck. His expression hardened. His fingers dug into my thigh as he rutted into me at an angle that caused the thick head of his cock to hit that bundle of nerves on each descent.

He knitted his brows, sweat-drenched muscles straining with the need to release, and he bit on his lip to keep from shouting. All the effort we were both making to hold back our emotions was a sign that this was like nothing we'd ever experienced.

"Ohh fuck... coming..." He growled the words in between each thrust, reaching over and rolling his thumb over my clit. The extra stimulation was too much or just what I needed, because my muscles tightened and I came... _hard_. My pussy clenched as his cock pulsed. The vibrating muscles of our sexes feeding off each other in an orgasm that kept going and going in a series of tugs and pulls that drained all the _want_ and _need_ from our body.

When we finally looked at each other again, we wore the same dumbfounded expression with a tinge of fear, because the _want_ and _need_ didn't really go away with that climax. It took root in my gut and grew at a rapid pace. It was the type of thing I'd crave, that would grow into some sort of obsession, infatuation, or worse... _love_.

I flinched as he pulled out, rolling off the condom, and tossing it into the nearby trash. He returned, pulling me up the couch and fitting himself next to me. He splayed his arm over my breasts, his hand in my hair. His thigh rested between my legs and his cock pressed against my hip. He'd coiled himself around me as his soft breaths implied he'd fall asleep soon. But before he did, he whispered the words that echoed in my head since we'd shared that orgasm. "We're fucked." Both literally and figuratively, because I knew after this I was ruined.

# Who is She?

# Xander

I woke with a start. Nude, disoriented, and completely alone. The shrill sound of my cell phone startled me out of my sleep. I glanced down at the screen and saw a missed call from Marcus. A quick glance at the clock showed it had been two hours since Avery had shown up at my door. I did a quick check of the house even though I knew I wouldn't find her here. I stopped off at the bathroom before settling on my bed with the phone. I tried to convince myself not to call her, and it worked for about half an hour. I knew I wasn't getting back to sleep, and I was a little pissed she'd come over here, turned everything upside down, and left while I slept. I tapped on Avery's contact info and sent her a text.

Where'd you go?

_Home._ Her response was so quick I thought she might've been up waiting for me _._

Why?

I live here.

Smart-ass. I hit the call button instead of replying.

"Hello."

"Why'd you leave?"

"You never asked me to stay."

"I would've if I'd have been _awake_ when you snuck off."

"I find it ironic that you're complaining about falling asleep."

"I'm not complaining about _that_. I don't even know what I'm complaining about." I never had a problem with a woman leaving after sex. I couldn't get them out fast enough, and now... now I was seconds from asking her to come back.

"You got what you wanted, Xander," she said matter-of-factly.

_I know I did._ But was it enough? Would it ever be? Every time I fucked her, the need grew. The silence on the phone stretched for too long, but neither of us made an effort to disconnect the call.

"Avery," I said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah." Her tone came across soft and breathy, like she was drifting to sleep.

"I want to fuck you again."

She moaned. The sound brought my dick from half-mast to fully erect in seconds.

"Next time, I'm going to tie you to my bed so you'll be here when I wake up. You can be my own little personal fuck puppet."

" _Wow_... do you have to be so crude?"

"Yeah, I do. I'm a filthy-mouthed bastard who loves to fuck, and hopefully I'll get you to be just as dirty. You know... maybe stain you with my hot, sticky—"

"Xander."

"Yeah?"

"Goodnight."

I smiled at her dismissal. "Goodnight, Avery."

I hung up with a ridiculous smile on my face and my other hand on my cock. She would quickly turn me into a sex-crazed maniac. Then she'd also be treating me for a sex addiction she afflicted me with. Before I placed the phone down, it began ringing.

"Change your mind?" I answered, expecting to hear Avery's voice.

"Xander?"

_Marcus._ "Yeah. What's up?" I shifted into a seated position.

"It's about the doctor you wanted me to check up on."

"You can call off the investigation."

"That was quick." He chuckled. "Never cease to amaze me."

"Shut up. I don't need that info anymore."

"Are you sure?"

"Why? What did you find out?" I tensed.

"Nothing." I relaxed, loosening my grip on the phone.

"Okay, so why do you sound so worried?"

"Because I found _nothing_. It's like she didn't exist before eighteen. I don't like it, Xander. Anyone who goes to that much trouble to cover their past has something ugly to hide."

"How much could she have done before she turned eighteen? She's too straight and narrow for anything criminal."

"You of all people should know when you're trying to bury a part of your past, you turn into a completely different person."

"Trust me, I know that, but not Avery."

"You're blinded by the pussy. The taste of it is probably still on your lips."

I smirked because I actually did still taste her on my tongue. "Fine, dig all you want."

"You can't afford any surprises right now, so I'll update you when I come up with some answers." The line clicked off and I dropped the phone on the nightstand. Whatever her secret was, it couldn't be as bad as mine. And maybe if it were, she'd understand. Regardless, I knew who she was now, and I liked it.

*~*~*

In the next week, we fell into a routine. We'd text all day, she'd make excuses as to why she couldn't come over, but by ten p.m., she showed up at my door and we'd fuck for hours. I honestly thought after a week or so I'd tire of Avery. But I'd been lying to myself from day one. I'd felt that powerful pull toward her, and I deluded myself, thinking it was all about tearing off her panties and sinking my cock in her.

This shit was different. The kind of different I didn't need in my life. I'd been here before. I recognized the feelings that were growing for Avery, and it was like a ticking time bomb in my gut.

I wasn't good with relationships and love. I thrived for years on fucking women and moving on, because love would destroy me. I wasn't the candy, flowers, and tears kind of guy. I was the jealous, crazed, obsessed type. If this thing with Avery continued to grow the way it was, I'd start to fuck it up. I'd take desperate measures to keep her. I knew it. Saw it coming but couldn't stop it if my life deepened on it. And trust me... it did.

By the end of the week, I talked her into going to dinner with me. I took her to a desolate mountaintop park I used to visit when I was younger. Her hair blew in the wind, and her right hand gripped the seat as I whipped my pickup around the steep edges of the road. I reached over, running a hand up the back of her neck into her hair. She glanced over at me with nervous eyes.

"Can you pay attention to the road?"

I smiled at her but returned my hand to the wheel. When we pulled up to the small, secluded area, she jumped out and walked up to the guardrail and gazed at the city lights below.

Making sure to park so we'd face the view, I set up a blanket and laid out the dinner I'd picked up in the bed of the pickup. I helped her up, and suspicion flickered in her glance.

"So you have a romantic side?" She narrowed her eyes.

"I have a lot of sides and crooked edges, Dr. Shaw."

She lifted an eyebrow and smiled. "I'm sure you do."

We ate mostly in silence, and when we were done, we leaned back—her back against my chest, my arms around her waist. It was the most peaceful moment I had in over ten years.

"Why haven't you returned to California? Not that I'm saying I want you to leave, but..."

"So you want me to stay?"

"Never mind."

I let her off the hook and answered her question.

"I haven't really accepted any scripts or produced anything in almost two years. I had my stint in rehab and I needed time off."

"Was the drinking because of your insomnia?"

"Partly. It wasn't as severe as it is here, but yeah, it would take the edge off and allow me to forget."

"Forget what?"

I shook my head. Mostly at myself because I couldn't figure out why I couldn't just lay it all out there. She didn't push, which was a relief.

"Did you grow up here?" she asked.

"Yeah. I went to the local high school and everything."

"So did I."

"I'm sure I was way before your time."

"Yeah, you were probably five years ahead of me."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-seven."

"And already in your own practice? Impressive."

"Well, when you have no one to fall back on, you dedicate yourself to being able to survive. So I doubled up on coursework, and I was actually taking some college courses while I was still in high school. I was in medical school by the time I was twenty-one."

I whistled and she giggled shyly. I think it was the first time I'd heard that sound from her. She sounded carefree and so unreserved, totally opposite from the bottled-up woman she usually was. Maybe I ought to loosen her up with wine more often.

"That's pretty amazing."

"Well, I had Ellie as a motivation."

"Who's Ellie?"

"She's like my sister or daughter, depending on how you look at it. We were placed in the same foster home, and I took care of her."

"Didn't you have any family to take you in?"

She shook her head. "No. My grandparents were all dead, and I had an aunt, but she had too much going on to take care of me."

"How old were you?"

"Fifteen."

"I'm sorry you were left alone. That had to be hard."

She shifted around, looked at me, and shrugged, a slight sadness in her gaze. The stark contrast of her red hair against her piercing blue eyes got to me every time. I swallowed back whatever it was she made me feel. If I could, I'd purge myself of it. She reached out and ran her fingers over my eyebrow, down my face, and over my jaw.

Her heavy-lidded gaze fell on my lips as she leaned in. Her lips were soft and pliant, her tongue gliding against mine aggressively. I moaned. I couldn't fucking wait to get her tongue wrapped around my cock. If kissing her was any indication of what she could do with her mouth, I'd be shooting off down her throat in record time. She broke the kiss and gave me the same expression she always did. Shock and amazement with a huge side of _turned the fuck on_.

"Xander?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah?" I brushed my fingers through her silky hair.

"What are we doing?"

"I have no fucking idea what's happening here," I admitted before I dove back in, devouring her mouth with the intensity that matched the fire burning between us. If she hadn't pulled away, I would've fucked her right there in the back of my truck, under the moon, with the city lights as a backdrop. But I hadn't come there for that. I was trying to do something with her that didn't involve sex. It went against every fucking thing I believed in, but I was building a relationship.

So I pulled a blanket over us and we spent the next two hours talking about everything except _that day_. She didn't seem to hold anything back, and I was convinced she was exactly the person I thought she was.

# Who He Is

# Avery

In the two weeks since I'd shown up at Xander's door, we'd become inseparable. No matter how many times I woke up in the morning and said I would take an off day from him, I'd end up in his bed.

He opened up to a certain extent. He told me what it was like growing up as the mayor's son. How much he really missed his dad, and that he was close to his brother until he left town. He talked about his mom like she was the world to him, and he spent most of his days with her. He told me about moving to California and how it took him four years to get a part in a small movie, and from there everything took off for him. He even talked to me about rehab and dealing with the press.

Xander opened up about everything in his life. Everything except what kept him up at night. I'd spent mostly every night at his place for two weeks, and half the time he woke up in a cold sweat. The other half he didn't sleep at all. I was suspicious that whatever gave him this insomnia was the same thing that chased him away years ago, because that was the only thing he didn't speak about, and I didn't press him. _Yet_. Besides, I was sure I'd figured out who he was.

There was a knock at my door, and Matt peeped his head into my office. "Do you have a minute?"

"Sure. I'm done for the day."

He walked in, shut the door, then took the seat across from me. "So you've been scarce around here lately."

"No, I haven't. I've been here for all my appointments." I knew it was a playful dig at me being with Xander, so I brushed it off.

"How are things with the movie star?" He wiggled his eyebrows, and I smiled at him.

"Not as bad as I expected."

"I'm sure you were expecting doom and gloom."

"More like heartache and destruction."

He narrowed his eyes. "Is your heart involved already?"

I shrugged. The last thing I wanted to do was admit there were some feelings developing between Xander and me.

"I was all about you getting laid, but if your heart's involved... be careful."

" _What?_ Are you sure you're a therapist? I'm starting to have my doubts. Let me see your certification."

"What? I told you to get laid, loosen up. Not fall in love."

"Matt, that's the equivalent of leaving a two-year-old with a set of knives and telling them to play with it but don't get cut."

"So you _are_ falling for him."

I rolled my eyes.

"If any woman could have emotionless sex, I thought it would be you."

"Why?"

"We were together for two years. The sex was great, but emotionally you weren't there."

"So you thought I was incapable."

"Not incapable. I just thought it would take a lot more than a few nights of sex to get your heart pumping."

"Well, it's not pumping yet. Let's just say it's flickering."

"Whatever. I didn't come here to talk about your sex life."

"Then why did you come?"

"I saw Ellie last night."

"Okay... She's a big girl, Matt."

"Yeah, but she was acting all weird, then asked me not to tell you."

"And here you are breaking her confidence in you."

"I've known her since she was like fourteen. If I see her with a group of drunken chicks, downtown at two in the morning, I'm going to talk to you about it."

"She was drunk?"

"She seemed sober... but her friends... I don't know. You know how crazy some college girls get."

"I wouldn't know."

"That's right. You only went to like one kegger when we were in college. And you didn't even drink."

"I was focused."

"You were uptight. Still are."

"If you're done analyzing me, I have a date."

"Oh... well, don't let me keep you." He rose and waited until I gathered my things before he walked me out of the office and to my car. Xander was waiting for me at his place, and I had to stop off at home to change first.

# Family Connections

# Xander

"Xander, I can't."

I pulled Avery's arm as we walked up the steps. When we'd woken this morning and I told her I wanted her to come to my mother's place with me, she'd almost bolted. It was Sunday, and the only way to get her to spend an entire day with me was to bring her to dinner at my mother's house. Five weeks and I was already introducing her to my mother. I was screwed.

"Trust me, she'll love you."

She shook her head. "You don't understand. I've never done anything like this."

"Meet someone's mother?" I raised an eyebrow at her because it really wasn't that big of a deal.

"Met someone I'm _dating's_ mother. I don't know how to do the whole parent thing."

I pulled her into me, wrapping my arms around her. "We'll tell her you're my friend. No pressure."

Avery began to relax, but she heard my mother open the door behind her, and she stiffened again. At least it was too late for her to escape. She pulled back and spun around.

"Mom, this is Avery. This is my mother—"

"Susan." Avery finished. That was when I noticed the shock on both of their faces, my mother recovering a lot quicker.

"Xander, you didn't tell me you knew Avery." She stepped out, hugging Avery like a long-lost friend.

"Neither did you."

When she released her, Avery just stared at her and stuttered. "How...? You never told me—you're...?" She shook her head and seemed to give up on trying to make sense of it all.

"I've missed you, dear. How have you been?"

"I'm all right." Avery still looked a bit shocked as my mother pulled her into the house.

"Come in, come in. Dinner will be ready in an hour." I watched my mother as she guided Avery into the living room and promised they'd catch up later. She was nervous, and the way she rushed off to the kitchen made me certain she was hiding something.

I sat across from Avery, and she looked confused. "How do you know my mother?"

"She's a family friend... or at least that's what she told me."

"When did she tell you this?"

"Years ago. After my parents died. There was no one that ever came to see me, but your mom showed up at the foster home one day, and she said she was a friend of my parents. She didn't like where I was staying so she got me moved to a safer place, and she came to visit me every month." She looked at me, worrying her lip. "Xander, your mom is the only person who's ever been there for me, and now... I realize I don't know anything about her."

I got up and joined her on the other couch. I sat back, and she leaned her head against my chest.

"I mean, how horrible am I that she's been there for me for over eleven years and I never knew who she was married to or who her kids were?"

"Or maybe she purposely kept it from you?"

She sat up and stared at me. "You think she didn't want anyone to know about me?"

_Shit_. I shouldn't have said that out loud. I didn't know why Avery was this big secret for my mother, but the look on her face proved to me she didn't ever expect any of us to know about Avery and whatever her connection to her was.

"No, I don't think that. Come here." I pulled her back against me and held her there. "I'm glad you had her in your corner. She's pretty amazing when she's on your side."

"I know." She sighed. "But something's off here, Xander. She told me her last name was Reynolds and she kept all the details about you and your brother to a minimum."

"Reynolds is her maiden name." My suspicion grew, because now I was sure she was hiding something, but I didn't want Avery over thinking anything until I knew what it was. "Let me give you a tour. We'll clear everything up later." I pulled her up off the couch and led her through the house that seemed so empty now that my father was gone.

*~*~*

The awkward tension didn't improve by dinnertime. We all sat down to eat, and an eerie silence fell over the table. As we finished up, I got tired of waiting for my mother to speak up and broke the silence.

"So, Mom, how did you know Avery's parents?"

She froze with her fork halfway to her mouth and stared at me. "We were friends... when we were younger." She continued to eat, but her vague response only made me more suspicious.

"How come no one in the family's ever met her?"

She dropped her fork and started to rise. "Well, you know you boys are always busy. You haven't been home in years." She gathered a few dishes and scurried off into the kitchen. I looked at Avery, and she gave me a puzzled look that expressed exactly how I felt.

"I'll be right back." I pushed back my chair, dropped my napkin on the table, and followed my mother into the kitchen. She busied herself with loading the dishwasher, and then she pulled a pie out of the oven, all along pretending she didn't see me watching her.

"What was that, Mom?"

"What are you talking about, dear?" I caught her arm as she tried to leave the room and spun her to face me.

"You've been quiet and nervous ever since Avery arrived here. I know you, Mom. Something's going on."

She sighed and dropped her head. When she looked back up, her demeanor was less shuttered, but the worried look remained. "Just be careful, Xander. She's been through so much... Don't—don't hurt her."

I dropped my hand from her arm and stepped back. "Do you actually think I'd hurt her?"

"No. No." She stepped forward, trying to reach out to me, but I deflected her touch. "I know you'd never purposely hurt her... I just..." She sighed again.

"Wow. Maybe we should leave." She was the only person who stood by me, and I didn't like the feeling I was getting from this conversation.

"No, at least stay for dessert."

"I don't know, Ma."

"Come on." She picked up the pie and walked out. I followed, but I barely looked at dessert as Mom and Avery talked about work and her roommate Ellie. My mom obviously knew everything about Avery's life.

Avery was a few bites away from finishing her dessert. I was planning a quick escape in my head when the worst thing happened... Ian walked in.

"No one invited me to dinner." A nervous chill spread across my skin. Shit was about to go from bad to straight destruction. Ian had been making himself scare around the house since I came to town. Mom said he was crashing with some women who worked at the club where he was a bouncer. Ian showing up was just the kind of karma I should've expected.

He cut a piece of pie and slowly took a seat at the head of the table, right next to Avery. He looked at her, narrowed his eyes, and said, "Who are you?"

"This is Avery, sweetie. She's a doctor. Has a practice in town." My mom responded quicker than I did, and I was sure she did it because she knew Ian was a loose cannon.

He ate a forkful of his pie but continued to stare at Avery.

"We should—" I began, but Ian cut me off.

"What kind of doctor are you?"

"Ian," my mother warned.

"What? I can't ask her any questions?" His arms flailing out, palms up.

"I'm warning—"

Avery put her hand on my thigh and gave me a reassuring look.

"It fine," she said to me before turning to Ian. "I'm a psychiatrist."

He lifted his eyebrows, paused, then threw back his head and laughed. "If you think you can save my brother..." He nodded his head toward me. "It's not possible. He's been lost for years."

"Shut the fuck up, Ian!" I jumped out of my seat and almost went at him from across the table. "You're not blameless so back the fuck off!" I jabbed a finger his way before grabbing Avery's arm and pulling her up.

"We're leaving." I dragged Avery behind me without looking at her expression. I knew she'd be curious about what was going on, and I had to figure out what I'd be willing to tell her.

"Goodnight, Susan. Thanks for dinner," she shouted before we made it out the door. I couldn't get us out of there fast enough.

The silence stifled the air in the car, filled it with dread. After ten minutes, Avery spoke. "Xander—"

"Don't!" I anticipated her asking questions, so I shut her down quickly. She clenched her hands, turning to gaze out her window.

I ran a hand through my hair, yanking on the strands. I didn't mean to shout at her. I just didn't know what to tell her. I reached out, taking her tightened fist into my hand and forcing her to loosen it. She looked at me, an angry fire in her eyes. She'd been trying to get me to open up since we first met, and at this point, I didn't want her to give up on me.

"I'm sorry. But just don't, okay?"

She nodded, turning her gaze back to the road.

*~*~*

When we got back to my place, Avery followed me into my bedroom and looked on nervously as I started stripping off my clothes.

"Maybe I should go."

"No." I wasn't going to let her leave and distance herself from me. I'd make her understand there were things I couldn't tell her.

"Can we talk about it?"

"No." I pulled down my boxer briefs. She looked away.

"If you can't open up to me, then I can't stay." She tried to walk to the door, but I grabbed her arm and pulled her. Her back pressed against my naked chest; my cock pressed to her ass.

"I don't want to talk." I kissed her neck. She shivered. "I don't even want to think. I just want to fuck." I kissed her shoulder as I pulled down the zipper of her dress.

"Can you help me forget, Avery? 'Cause I really need that right now."

"This won't solve anything." Her tone was stony, but she melted into my hold.

"I know." I wasn't looking to solve anything tonight. I was trying to lose myself. Her dress slid off her shoulders and tumbled to the floor. I picked her up and carried her to the bed. She scooted back and watched as I rolled a condom over my cock. I wanted to bareback her so bad, but this wasn't the time. She held a hand against my chest when I crawled over her, holding me off so she could get the last word.

"You're going to have to let me in sooner or later."

"Later." I pushed away her hand, pulled down her bra, and sucked one of her nipples into my mouth. She arched into me, moaning and writhing. This I could handle. I'd lick, suck, and fuck her all day if possible. But when I thought about talking to her about my past, all I saw was her walking out the door, and that wasn't an option. I tore her panties off then slid a finger across her wet slit and watched her come apart, grinding into my hand as she whimpered softly. I swallowed up her soft pants, plunging my tongue into her mouth.

My cock was hard, and I needed to own her. It was wrong to pull her into my shit, but I was a selfish bastard, and I needed her. I wanted to embed myself so deep in her she'd never be able to get rid of the imprint I left there. I rubbed my cock against her wet cunt, made her beg me for it.

"Please..."

She made the sweetest sound as I pushed into her. I slung her legs over my arms, smothered her with my body so she'd feel me everywhere. Her nails dug into the back of my neck, seeking purchase as I fucked her into the mattress.

I had this fierce ache to keep her clawing in me. Somewhere along the line she'd become mine. Her pussy was hot, wet, and gripping me, but I focused on her. Her facial expressions, the sounds she made, the desperate way she pushed into my thrust. I sucked on her neck, needing to leave a lasting memory on her skin. She bucked and hollered. "Xander! Oh fuck... Yesss!"

Her pussy clamped down on my cock. Her orgasm rippled through me, pulling mine from me. It jarred me as I spilled into her. It was a rough, dirty claiming, but it was what I needed to feel like I was on solid ground. The oddest part was I went in trying to claim her, and I was pretty sure she'd just claimed me. I fell over her—shuddering—my hips jerking involuntarily as her clenching pussy wrung out the last drops of my orgasm.

It seemed like hours passed before I pulled out, tied up the condom, and tossed it into the trash. When I returned, I tucked her beneath me and within minutes fell asleep.

Somewhere along the line, I felt her wiggling out from under my hold. I reached out and caught her wrist as she stood. She looked down at me and tried to pull free. "I'm just going to the bathroom."

"Don't you fucking leave me," I mumbled, still half asleep. She nodded and I reluctantly released her, dozing off.

# House of Cards

# Avery

It was 2:08 in the morning when I got home. I pulled open the front door, pushed it shut behind me, and kicked off my shoes. I sank onto the chair in the entryway and buried my face into my hand.

I was reeling—completely off course and out of control. I couldn't come to grips with _my_ Susan being Xander's mom. All these years and I never pried into her life, never asked details about her kids and a husband. She was always so vague—never giving away any names. It was always _my son_ or _my husband_. I was so grateful for all she'd done for me I never pushed for more.

The feeling that something was being kept from me increased when Ian showed up. I didn't need to be told he was Xander's brother, because the resemblance was uncanny. The only thing that set the two apart was that Xander was stockier, and Ian had more of a dirty-blond thing going on with his hair. Something awful was brewing in that family, and I was afraid to find out the truth.

I'd let Xander in, and I couldn't handle being betrayed by people I trusted. Even Susan had been different that afternoon, nervous and scared—almost like Xander and me being together was her worst nightmare. She went through a lot of trouble making sure I didn't know who her husband and children were. I just couldn't figure out why.

I heard a car pull into the driveway and looked up in time to see headlights turn off. I hoped it was Ellie. She'd been coming home more often—albeit really late—but at least she came home now. I looked up with the knock on the door and stared straight at Xander through the see-through glass portion. He stood there, hands in the pockets of his jeans, hair all bedraggled, and a deep frown marring his face.

I watched him, not sure if I should let him in, because the further I let him into my life, the deeper he could hurt me. He nodded his head toward the door, signaling me to let him in, but I couldn't move. It was in my nature to help people, to get them to open up to me. Xander was a sealed vault, and if he couldn't let me in, then why should I do the same for him?

He removed a hand from his pocket and ran it through his hair, turning his back to the door. He stood there—frozen—much like I was. This thing between us was so unexpected that it had shaken us both. One thing I knew for sure was if I opened that door, my heart wouldn't be far behind. It was the turning point. The point where I'd be able to walk away without being too hurt, or the point where I opened the door to everything that was Xander—including accepting he had secrets. Secrets that haunted him at night and made his family anxious.

He walked down the short flight of steps and went to stand next to his car. He didn't get in. He just leaned against the car, staring at my front door, his head hung low and his hands stuffed in his pockets.

My brain told me to turn away, but everything else in me screamed at me to open the door, and it wasn't long before I listened. I unlatched the door and stepped back in, waiting for him. He stared for a few moments. It seemed he was fighting the same battle with walking away. In the end he gave in, much like I did, and walked through the door. He looked totally unsure and defeated. When he stopped a few inches from me and looked me in the eyes, his green irises were more like a stormy gray in the dim lighting. His hands were still buried in his pockets and he looked almost afraid to try to touch me.

"Why'd you leave?" His voice was a raspy whisper. I knew I told him I wouldn't, but I'd needed space.

"You'll never let me in."

"I will. You just have to give me time." He finally took his hand out of his pocket and ran it down his face. "Let me do this when I'm ready."

"Will it hurt me?"

"I just want you to see the good in me before I tell you the ugly."

I reached out and touched his face, the growth on his chin scratching against my palm. "I already see the good. Whatever ugly thing that's in your past doesn't negate what you are now."

He snorted. "I'm going to hold you to that."

He reached out and hooked an arm around my waist, pulling me in and covering my lips with his. The kiss was soft and searching at first. Gentle licks and soft nips at my lips. But as usual, the chemistry between us ignited as soon as we touched.

Our sweet, tender kiss turned animal-like. The kind of kiss that was so untamed neither of us had any control. His tongue moved hungrily against mine, seeking the kind of pleasure that left us sated yet utterly ravaged.

My back hit the wall. His fingers dug into my thighs as he lifted my legs over his hips. He ground his erection against my pussy, and I knew I'd combust with a few clever thrusts of his hips. He moved his lips to my neck, biting and sucking. He was always consumed with marking me. So much so he didn't hear the door open and made no move to stop.

I pushed against his shoulder as Ellie stood there stock still with pure shock on her face.

"Xander."

"Don't make me stop, baby."

"Xander." He pulled back and looked at me, eyes glazed over with lust.

"What?"

"Ellie's home." Having never seen me this passionate about any man, the look of surprise on her face was entirely expected.

#

# Xander

"Ellie's home."

I couldn't focus on anything other than how hard my dick was and how badly I needed to fuck her. When we fucked, we connected. It was the only time we both let down our walls and I knew she was mine no matter how much she doubted me. So when she told me her so-called sister, daughter, or whatever she considered her was home, it didn't register to me.

"Uh-huh..." I mumbled and buried my head back into her sweet-smelling neck.

"Xander, stop!"

I sighed and took a slow step away from her but promised her with a searing look that we'd pick up where we left off soon.

Ellie cleared her throat and I turned to the sweet, innocent-looking blonde who eyed me warily.

"Ellie, this is Xander Pierce. Xander, Ellie."

She stepped forward and held out her hand, but I just kept staring at her face. I'd finally found something I wanted in Avery, and that hadn't happened in over a decade. But I realized the one thing I wanted might be the one thing I couldn't have. My past was bearing down on me and I didn't know if she'd be able to handle my truths, but worse than that...

It turns out the most important person in Avery's life was a stripper I met when I first came to town. Ellie was the girl that handed me that card—the girl I fucked for a month before I ever met Avery. Ellie was the usually wild-haired, scantily-clad Gabriella.

Going off the things beginning to run through my head, I was reverting back to old habits. I was already formulating plans and scheming because I needed to do anything possible to keep Avery.

When you find what you're searching for, you won't have to fight so hard to keep it.

My father's words echoed in my head. But the odds weren't in my favor. Our relationship had officially become a house of cards that a gentle breeze would tear apart. Gabriella was the tornado, and everything around me started to crumble, getting sucked up in her forceful whirlwind. Wrapping Avery in my arms and blinding her from the destruction ahead was the only way I knew to keep her with me.

End of Episode 1

A note to the readers

Oh my God! I can't believe it just stopped there!

Who is this Bethany Bazile, and why is she trying to torture us?

Maybe I'm a sadist. After all, why would I leave you guys hanging this way? Honestly, when I came up with the concept of this story—or should I say when these characters forced me to tell their story—this is the way it was laid out in my head.

It all played out like a three-part serial with separate titles and different covers. Each part will be released within two weeks of the last one. I know some of you are angry at me. I struggled with this type of format because I knew I'd get some fans who'd absolutely hate me.

So maybe I'm a masochist? Because I still decided to publish this way, though I suspected I'd see the soft glow of torches and pitchforks coming up the road.

To those who hate cliffhangers and still ventured down this road, I apologize—and thank you for giving me a chance anyway. I hope you venture on and read _Underneath It All_ & _Lie To Me_.

If you need to rant, then you're welcome to stop by my Facebook page and leave comments. I love hearing from you guys. Flip the page and you'll find all the ways you can stalk me.

To all my readers, I thank you. Your time and support are priceless. I hope this serial was what I meant it to be for you, because in the end, the _climax_ is always better when you have to endure the slow buildup. ;-)

**About Underneath It All**

She was unexpected but exactly what I needed. She gave me hope again, made me feel things that had died over a decade ago.

I was reverting back to the man I used to be. The man that destroyed lives to keep the one person that meant everything to him.

My secrets were piling up. I didn't know how long I'd be able to maintain it all.

But I knew I'd do anything to keep her.

Even if it meant I had to let her see who I was underneath it all.

Stalk Me

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Fight For Me

Beautifully Broken

Beautifully Revealed

UnBurdened (A Novella)

Deceitfully Yours

About the Author

Bethany Bazile reads, writes, and lives in the Northeast with her husband and two amazing kids. Her passion for writing was born from a love affair between books and music. She loves books that draw her in and won't release her until she's inhaled every word, panting with excitement. Then she realizes the sun came up, but the loss of sleep was so worth it. When she isn't reading, she's conjuring up steamy love scenes and hot romance stories to share with fellow romance lovers. She can't function without her cup of coffee and operates on a vampire-like timeframe.
