Insomnia (Sexual Misconduct Volume I)
Bethany Bazile
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.
Unprofessional 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.