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She looks to be pondering her next sentence. “Can we take it slow? I mean, tonight was the first time I opened up emotionally…and physically,” she adds with a blush.
“We’ll take it as slow as you want to go. I’m here with you every step of the way. I promise.”
“I’m messed up, Dixon.”
“So am I,” I confess. I can’t erase my past, but I sure as shit can try to make amends. I can try to make amends for my manwhoring ways and also, for being an awful son.
“I can’t promise I won’t push you away when things get heated or too intense. But I’ll try my best. I really want this to work.”
“So do I,” I reply, never wanting anything more.
“In that case, I give you permission to knock some sense into me if I start acting a little crazy.”
“Thank you, but that’s not necessary. I have complete faith in you. In us,” I affirm with a nod.
“Us,” she repeats with a smile. “I like the sound of that.”
“Me too,” I reply, my persistent erection throbbing when Madison mysteriously blushes.
She reveals the reason behind her blush when she huskily asks, “So now what?”
Rolling on top of her, I smirk when a small intake of breath gets trapped in her throat. My erection, no doubt, is the cause of her breathlessness.
“Now,” I state. “I’m going to kiss you.” She gasps as I tongue the shell of her ear. “I’m just not going to tell you where,” I add, before taking her mouth and holding it prisoner, with no intent of ever letting go.
One month later
“And how does that make you feel?” I ask Ms. Stark, subtly glancing at the clock and internally celebrating that her time is almost up.
“I feel…” She pauses, licking her red lips. “I feel in control.”
“Why?” I ask, writing a note in her file, her hazel eyes watching my every move.
“Because, Dr. Mathews, when you have a megalomaniac for a husband, being in control is something you don’t experience often. I take what I can get, and at the moment, Pedro, the pool boy, is more than happy to give,” she replies, her eyes dipping to my lap.
I straighten my back and nod. “Have you spoken to your husband about his controlling… tendencies?” I say, not liking the predatory look she’s giving me.
“What would be the point? After twelve years of marriage, he hasn’t changed. I’ve just come to accept the fact my husband is a control freak, and no amount of talking to him will change anything,” she confesses, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward. “What about you, Dr. Mathews? Do you have someone special in your life?”
Clearing my throat, I lean back into my chair and smile. “Ms. Stark, we’re here to talk about you, not me.”
“I would much rather talk about you,” she replies. “I’ve been seeing you for a couple of months, and I know nothing about you.”
“I’m your therapist, and that’s all you need to know,” I bluntly reply.
“But—” she counters, but I cut her off.
“Your time is up for today. If you’d like to make another appointment, please see Ms. Vale on your way out.”
My response lacks tact, but quite frankly, I couldn’t give a damn. She’s the third woman this week to hit on me, and yes, I would once have encouraged this behavior, but now, it just makes me sick. Thankfully, she gets the message loud and clear and leaves without a single word.
“Hello, Dr. Mathews,” Madison says as she ducks her head around my door.
The moment I see her, my shitty morning seems like a distant nightmare. I jump up from my leather chair and eagerly greet her with my lips as I shut the door behind her. Pressing her up against the wood, I devour her mouth, and my body hums in pleasure as she returns my affection just as passionately.
Madison and I have been taking things slow, but I’m grateful they’re moving at all. After Boston, we have been seeing oneanother exclusively, which suits me just fine, as there is no one I want other than her.
After much persuasion, I convinced Madison to see a psychologist, and although it’s early days, I can see a vast improvement in her behavior. I meant what I said—I have complete faith in her, and in us, and no matter what obstacles are thrown our way, I’m ready to fight them.
