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“Urges to hurt women?”
“God, no. Never. I don’t feel anything for almost all women.” Only one woman do I have any feelings for, and they are deeply rooted in my soul. Embedded, engrained, etched into my heart—they’ll always be there even if she never forgives me.
“Then why are you so afraid?”
“Ever since my adoptive mother told me the truth, I worried about what I could become.” Shame fills me as I confess those words.
“How old were you?” she asks, putting a sympathetic hand on my thigh.
“About thirteen.”
“Oh, so just at the start of your hormonal stage. Any arousal would have frightened you, right?”
“You nailed it.” I used to get hard with the wind blowing. God forbid if I saw a movie with a pretty woman in it. Then as I got older, I wasn’t aroused by much but my own fantasies of a happy life until Harley swept by me. All fantasies became about her and imagining her in my arms, writhing with pleasure, crying out my name as I ate her out.
“You should consider the fact that you’re in your late twenties and just lost your virginity as a sign you had no intentions of hurting anyone.” I don’t need to be reminded that I was a virgin and that I shared that with anyone. It’s kind of embarrassing. She leans in, lowering her glasses and adds, “You’re handsome, wealthy, and you could probably pay your way through discretionary affairs. There are clubs that allow for privacy for those craving dominance and submission.” Is she hitting on me?
“I’m not interested in anything like that, Doctor.”
“You could find yourself in one of those places.” She licks her lips, and I’m out the damn door.
“I will no longer require your services.” I step out and leave the damn secretary a message. “I want the bill, and I don’t want any more sessions. No calls. I want the doctor and this office to lose all of my information. Understood?”
“Yes, Mr. Hunter.” Where did I get her number from in the first place? Fuck, now I remember. James Majors, when he said the company-recommended therapy sessions help release stress.
I just need to find Harley and get her back. No matter how perverted that bitch was, I did learn something. I’m not my father, and I can love Harley.
“I need to find Harley,” I tell Timothy.
“Sorry, sir. We don’t have a location on the necklace.”
Chapter Eight
Harley
It’s been miserable without Dylan. His words stung just as much as the way he left, going to his other home. I found out from one of his men, whose name I don’t remember, that he doesn’t even live at the condo all the time. It’s where he brings his hookups. This was just temporary, something he does from time to time.
Yet, I miss him so much. A part of me doesn’t believe a word he said because I remember the way Dylan was, and that was a man conflicted and not a man playing a game. I was his after the first day. He could have had me over and over if he wanted, and yet he refused to touch me, holding out until he lost control. Still, he shoved me away, telling me that it was over and so was his need for me.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. I need some air, Lillian. I’m going to go out for a walk.”
“Don’t go too far, okay?”
“Of course.” I head out with my keys and my purse and walk down her block. I only get about halfway when there’s a cloth placed over my face. I gasp, and then everything goes dark.
My vision’s fuzzy, clearing up as the road grows bumpy, and I slowly wake up. My hands and feet are tied but I’m not blindfolded, so I see who is in the passenger seat and I’m not as shocked as I should be. Her blonde hair is a clear giveaway, but then her shrill, bitchy voice is the dead giveaway that sent the chill down my spine—Sandra.
“James, baby.” I almost vomit in the back. I can’t slap my hand on my mouth and it’s too late anyway because she hears me. “Oh, shit. She’s awake.”
“Well, well, well. Pretty little pussy’s awake.”
“They’re going to love her.”
“Love breaking her,” she says with an annoying giggle that turns dark, something I hadn’t expected even from Sandra.
“They are going to do so much more than that, or maybe Hunter will give us tons of money to get her back.”
