Page 23 of Vanilla and Vice


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I moved past her and into her office, taking a seat and twisting my thick fingers together in aggravation.

I didn’t speak.

I couldn’t.

Not until I had the correct words to explain my situation.

I was pissed that I was even dealing with this, but Kennedy had done so much for Kade and me.

What kind of person would I be if I kicked her niece to the curb?

Dr. Dempson took her seat in the chair across from me and crossed her legs. She was older, and thankfully, I wasn’t attracted to her. Her auburn hair was pulled tight into a knot on the top of her head. Her glasses magnifying her light hazel eyes.

Her khaki skirt was too long, and her navy top covered everything worth looking at. I appreciated that about her. She knew the kind of patients she worked with, and she took their sickness seriously enough to know that certain parts of her could be considered attractive.

Legs.

Breasts.

As a sex addict, I had a type, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t take a peek if the view was offered.

“You called this emergency meeting, Zander. What can I do for you?”

“There’s a new girl at the Empire.”

Dr. Dempson’s brow lifted in confusion. “And?”

“And she’s like the fucking Virgin Mary. All blond and pure. She’s too tempting, and it’s fucking with me. I’m not sure I can control myself around her.”

“I don’t see a problem here. It’s an easy fix. Fire her.” She shrugged.

I chuckled sarcastically, not feeling a shred of humor. “It’s not that easy.”

Her inspecting eyes moved over my face. “Explain.”

Reaching to her side, she picked up her trusty notebook and began to scribble notes about me onto the page. One day, I would have to look at those notes.

“She’s the niece of a trusted friend and co-worker.”

She nodded, her eyes still on the notes she was taking. “Interesting. Continue.”

“I can’t fuck over a friend that way. Kennedy’s done a lot for Kade and me. The least we can do is give her family a job, but this girl …” I tugged at my hair, a habit I had formed when I was annoyed or aggravated. “She’s everything I desire. Everything my addiction needs. Blonde. Beautiful. And so fucking innocent even the sinful lights of Vegas refuse to reflect on her flawless skin.”

I paused, listening to the slide of her ink pen against the page.

Finally, she looked up from her page and adjusted her glasses. “And?”

“And I’m not sure I can handle it. If I thought I could, I wouldn’t be here, but here I am, fucking losing my goddamn mind because my body refuses to listen to reason.”

“Well then”—she began scribbling again—“if that’s the case, then you have a chance to learn something here.”

“What do you mean?”

What was I supposed to learn?

How to live with my body on fire with want?

How to fucking lose my mind because my cock wanted the new girl so badly it nauseated me?

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