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Insomnia (Sexual Misconduct Volume I)(2)

By:Bethany Bazile






Avery

"Matthew, I have back-to-back appointments all week and I don't want to-"

"Avery, please this is very important to me-to us. We can network with a lot of people. It can bring in new patients."

"I know." I sighed, rubbing a hand over my eyes. "But-"

"We'll only stay two hours, I promise." He knew I'd do it, because no  matter what, I always gave in. He barely let me get a word in edgewise,  but we understood each other. After all, he was my best friend, business  partner, and ex-boyfriend.                       
       
           



       

"Fine, but two hours and-" The door to my office flew open, and I looked  up in surprise, gaping at the man towering in the doorway.

"Thanks, babe. Two hours, I promise." Matthew rattled on as I stared at  the incredibly hot stranger who'd burst into my office. I ended the  call, putting the phone down on my desk, and continued staring at him.

He was stunning.

He wasn't the kind of handsome you saw across the room and decided to  flirt with a passing smile and shyly interested looks. He was the kind  of man who made your heart start pounding, caused the fluttering to  begin in your stomach, and arousal to ignite rapidly with a single  glance. So alluring I'd risen from my seat and circled around the desk  to get closer, making sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. They  weren't.

He wore running shorts and a gray T-shirt that clung to his muscular  frame. His hair was tussled in a sexy way. He was nicely built with  broad shoulders and thick arms. His hips were slim, and I bet without  the shirt he had the kind of abs I would want to worship with my tongue.

God, what is wrong with me? I'd been so lost in my physical analysis of  him I hadn't realized how pleased he was with my blatant show of  appreciation. He smirked and lifted an eyebrow at me as if to say, Have  at it.

"Can I help you?" I asked, crossing my arms. My receptionist had scurried in behind the man with a nervous look on her face.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Shaw. I tried to tell him he needed an appointment,  but … " She held up her hands like he'd bum-rushed her in the lobby, and I  completely understood. The man was tall, solidly built, with a stormy  expression.

"It's okay, Angela. I'll take care of it." She looked at him, then back  at me. "Angela … " I lifted my eyebrows, and she finally backed out of the  room. He watched over his shoulder until the door clicked shut, then  turned back toward me.

"What can I do for you?"

I walked back to my side of the desk to get some distance and forced  myself to stop gawking at the man. He stalked forward, looked at me  curiously, and asked, "You're Avery?"

"Dr. Avery Shaw."

He shook his head with this look on his face like I wasn't what he'd expected.

"I need you to give me something to sleep."

"Something to sleep?"

He leaned closer to me, his palms pressed to the shiny mahogany desktop.  "A prescription, pills-whatever it is you therapists give out."

I uncrossed my arms and almost laughed at him. I knew his type:  dominant, pushy, thinking he could command everyone in the room with a  single word.

What the hell did he think I was? A street-side drug pusher?

"You can't sleep?"

"If I could fall sleep, would I have asked you for something to get me there?"

"Well, Mr … ?"

"Pierce …  Xander Peirce." He said it slowly, as though he were talking to  a clueless child. He read the puzzled look on my face and smiled, then  held out his hand. I stared at it and then looked back up at him. The  eyes I thought were gray from across the room now appeared soft green up  close. They looked almost transparent. The beauty of them capturing my  gaze and holding it there. His intense stare engrossed me, and it felt  like he looked right into me, reading my thoughts-attuned to his effect  on me.

I reached out slowly, apprehensive of making contact with him. His large  hand enveloped mine. I tried to quickly pull it back, but he held firm.  I met his gaze. A heated look passed between us. Then he smiled, just  slightly, but enough to reveal a pair of sexy dimples. As if the man  didn't have enough in his arsenal.

This man was definitely a player, a fuck them and leave them-rip your  panties and make you take it type. I needed to duck for cover because  interest lit up his eyes. I yanked back my hand and cleared my throat.  If an ounce of what he made me feel showed in my tone, he'd have the  upper hand.

"Well, Mr. Pierce, if you want me to help you with your insomnia, you'll need to make an appointment."

He shook his head, stood up straight, and crossed his arms. "I just need  something to sleep. I don't want to sit in your chair while you try to  get me to tell you my deep, dark secrets."

"I specialize in psycho-therapy. Judging by the way you stormed in here,  you're not a patient man." I leaned over the desk, copying the stance  he'd just taken. "But if you want my help, you're going to have to make  an appointment like everyone else. You'll come in here and sit in that  chair, or that couch, or even the floor if it makes you comfortable.  I'll sit in my chair and I'll dig so deep into the dark recesses of your  brain that I'll see what makes you laugh, cry, scream, and even what  keeps you up at night. If your problem can't be treated, then we'll  discuss drug therapy." I stood up straight, smoothed a hand over my  skirt, and sat in my chair.                       
       
           



       

"I don't cry. Or scream. Why are you making this so difficult, Ms. Shaw?"

"Dr. Shaw. And you're the one making this difficult, Mr. Pierce." I  rested my elbows on the desk and folded my hands. It was clear I had to  take another approach with him.

"How do you expect me to fight the demons that keep you up at night if  I'm not armed for combat? I need to know everything about them before I  can help you get rid of them." I knew I wore a self-satisfied smile, but  I didn't care. I loved a good battle of wits, and just because Xander  Pierce appeared to be king of his world didn't mean I'd bow down to him  in mine.

He leaned over my desk again. Does the man need to be near me? Because  in the five minutes he'd been here, he'd spent most of it hovering over  my desk.

"You think you have me by the balls, don't you? That you have your fist  squeezed tightly around my cock? I'm sure I can find plenty other  doctors around here who will give me what I need."

I rolled my eyes and chuckled. He was trying to goad me with his  abrasive vulgarity. Maybe he thought I'd give him what he wanted just so  I wouldn't have to deal with his suggestive behavior.

I stood and leaned in toward him, eye to eye, our noses a mere inch  apart. "I assure you, I am in no way interested in the head you have  down there. But I can guarantee you the head up here … " I tapped my  finger on his forehead and licked my lips as the temperature of the room  increased. "I'll suck it until it's spewing out things you didn't know  were in there."

His eyes darkened with lust, and he lifted a brow in surprise. I only  meant to throw his innuendos back at him, but the sexual energy in the  room ratcheted up so high my pulse echoed rapidly in my ears. He tilted  his head, and I feared he'd lean in and try to kiss me, even more  frightened I'd let him. He smiled, then licked his lips. I followed the  slow, seductive movement of his tongue, ached to trace it with mine. It  took some effort, but I finally found the strength to step away. I  removed my blazer because-let's face it-I was in dire need of a  cool-off. I threw it across my chair and turned back to him.

"I like you, Ms. Shaw."

"Dr. Shaw."

"You sure you can't squeeze me into your schedule today? How will you  sleep in your bed tonight knowing I'll be tossing and turning in mine?"

"The guilt trip won't work either." I shook my head sadly.

"You know, Dr. Shaw, I usually just fuck my way to sleep. Maybe you  could invite me to your bed. Kind of like …  a sleep study of sorts." Hmm …   The devilish glint in his eyes told me sleep was the last thing he'd  want to do in my bed.

"I wouldn't let you see my bed in your dreams."

He smiled. I couldn't help but smile back as I admired the little dimple  that appeared on his right cheek. "You win, Dr. Shaw …  for now." He  turned and strode out of the room without looking back.

I plopped down into my chair and let out a frustrated puff of air.  Taking him on as a patient was clearly a mistake, especially with the  attraction that sparked between us. In this small proximity, with that  man, I had definitely felt my defenses weakening. The situation was  disastrous. I was either screwed or I'd get screwed, and professionally,  the latter wasn't an option.