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“I guess we do.”

“You’re going to love me either way, right?”

“Probably so,” Kit admitted. Then, he tilted his head toward Kemper. “And I think you’ve had him since that first lap dance.”

“When you say no kink, does that mean we can’t play with these?” she asked, holding up the beads from the ring attached at the end.

“You liked those, did you?”

“I did,” she admitted.

“Wait until we try those with ginger. You’ll be amazed at what figging and anal beads can do for a woman.”

“How do you know?” she asked.

“He was a woman in his former life,” Kit teased.

“And I must’ve been a hooker.”

“You’re my hooker,” Kemper said, giving her a quick kiss on the lips. “And you can dance on top of me anytime you please.”

“I hope so,” she crooned, crawling over him. “Because I’m having one of those sudden urges to make love again.”

“Are you now?” Kemper asked, biting her bottom lip. “Well, let me see if I can’t help a woman out.”

As Kemper brought her body over his, she rubbed her cunt against his belly, gliding over him like a summer rain, refusing to take his cock and ride him for fear he’d begin to worry like Kit.

She might have been an addict, but couldn’t she get hooked on them rather than on sex itself? As she looked into the adoring eyes of the men who’d promised to stand by her, she found her answer.

For the first time in her life, Holly knew what it felt like to be held by men who loved her. And who couldn’t get hooked? Who wouldn’t want to have sex all day?

It was then when she decided she didn’t have a problem after all. Why of course not. She’d allowed others to tell her she was an addict.

Hell, she’d just bought into that theory. She had an overactive sex drive and nothing more.

As she quickly moved toward another orgasm, she was already contemplating the next one. She mounted Kemper and encouraged him to thrust, tossing her head back as she rode him.

No, she wasn’t an addict. She was just a woman who liked to come at the strike of every new hour. With men like the Keeslings, who could blame her?

Chapter Fourteen

Dr. Zanati handed over her treatment plan the next afternoon. “Are you serious about this?” Holly asked, scanning the recommended therapy.

“It’s only a recommendation,” Dr. Zanati said, studying Kit and Kemper.

“Doctor, if you don’t mind, try to keep your eyes focused on the patient here,” Holly said, scissoring her fingers in front of her own eyes in a polite effort to avert the good doctor’s attention back where it belonged.

Apparently, she was pretty smitten by Holly’s men. It was starting to piss her off.

Dr. Zanati jerked. She quickly left her desk and paced the floor, nervously running her fingers through her short black hair. She looked down at her open blouse and released another button, showing off even more cleavage than she had when she’d been talking to them about her own sex addiction.

Apparently, since she couldn’t remain professional, Holly was going to have to put the woman in her place. “Look, I can respect the fact that you’re my doctor. Kit and Kemper tell me you come highly recommended, but if you don’t mind my saying so, you haven’t taken your eyes off Kit and Kemper since we walked in here.”

“Holly!” Kit snapped. “Dr. Zanati, you’ll have to excuse Holly. She’s been uptight lately.”

“I can see that,” she said, taking a seat again. She stared down the bridge of her nose and made Holly very uncomfortable. Holly shot Kit a stern glare. He smirked.

Damn him. He was eating up the attention. No wonder he chose Dr. Zanati for her program. He was smitten by the woman.

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