Home > When I Break (When I Break #1)(3)

When I Break (When I Break #1)(3)
Author: Kendall Ryan

McKenna sat down in the chair beside me, her hands moving restlessly in her lap. “I think we got off on the wrong foot,” she murmured. “I’m here to help. That’s all.” She held up her hands, palms out in a placating gesture, and her eyes met mine.

Her hands were small and looked soft. It had been a while since I’d been around a girl as innocent and pure as she seemed to be. I nodded, acknowledging her statement, then cleared my throat and asked, “Did you need something?” She had asked me to stay behind, after all.

She took a deep breath, inhaling slowly, as if to steady herself. “Success in this program hinges on one’s ability to admit they have a problem with sexual activity, and that they need help.”

Although I could surely use her help with some sexual activity, I had a feeling that wasn’t what she meant.

“I’m here at the request of my counselor.” My voice was bland, indicating my lack of passion regarding her little meetings.

She looked down at the floor to the space between our feet once again, momentarily falling silent before raising her gaze to mine once again. “What do you do for fun, Mr. Bauer? To blow off steam.”

Mr. Bauer. I liked the sound of that falling from her pink lips way too much. My gaze zeroed in on her mouth, and McKenna bit down on her lower lip.

I stuffed my hands into my pockets, forcing my eyes away. “What do you want to know?”

“Your hobbies.”

My hobbies? Drinking, getting arrested, f**king pretty little things like her. Since the truth would shock her, I just shrugged. “Nothing that concerns you, angel.”

“You’re awfully…dominant, aren’t you?” Her words were direct, but her gaze remained glued to the floor, as if she was unable to be so bold while holding my eyes. It set off something inside me.

I didn’t like the label. Dominant. I’d read a little bit about it online, and I’d be lying if some of the shit I read didn’t ring true. I liked to take control in the bedroom. Give orders. Be pleased by a girl eager to submit, or give pleasure to someone so willing to receive it. I liked the control it gave. The heady feeling of power. Especially because there was so much in my life I couldn’t control. And something about McKenna’s gentle nature told me if I could get past her walls, she would submit to me beautifully.

I was even sicker and more f**ked up than she knew. I’d own her. But as fun as it might be, I wouldn’t let myself break her. She was my sexual addiction counselor. She was off-limits. And it wasn’t like I had an actual problem. I liked sex. I was a red-blooded American male, but I could control myself.

“Your reaction is very common, Mr. Bauer,” she went on. “With all due respect, it sounds like you may be in denial, especially if you continue to engage in destructive sexual activities.”

I let out a snort. “You think you’re going to cure me of wanting sex, angel? Not a chance.” The nickname slid from my lips with ease. She was a sweet, blue-eyed, petite little thing. Soft and innocent looking too. An angel amongst devils.

“We don’t preach celibacy. That’s not what I’m asking of you.” Her voice wavered ever so slightly.

“Damn good thing too.” No way in f**k was I taking a vow of abstinence. I felt itchy and uncomfortable just thinking about it, like a caged animal ready to rebel. Why was I letting her get under my skin? Shit.

“We operate under the same approach as many twelve-step programs. We don’t expect abstinence, but my goal is to help you engage in healthy sexual activity. To work with you to stay away from people or images that might trigger compulsive sexual behavior.”

This was insane. I wasn’t some sicko, some sexual deviant. I just really, really liked women. I shouldn’t have even come here today. I should have told that counselor to f**k off instead of agreeing to this bullshit interrogation. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, and I crossed my arms over my chest to hide my clenched fists.

“Our group members often have unresolved emotional issues, things from their pasts that bring on PTSD, anxiety, depression. Eighty percent of sex addicts were abused as children…” McKenna prattled on like she was reading from a textbook.

My past had nothing to do with my liking sex. The only thing that kept me in my seat was watching McKenna’s pretty blue eyes looking so solemnly at mine. She held me captive, even if I didn’t want to listen to what she had to say.

McKenna licked her lips slightly, which made my dick twitch, and said, “Only once you deal with your sexual dysfunction can you form true, loving relationships, and break the cycle.”

No thanks. Been there, done that. And I had the battle scars to prove it. I shifted in my seat, becoming more agitated by the second.

She leaned forward, her expression sincere. “You can’t do this alone, in private by yourself, Knox. I’m here to help.”

“Sex feels good, McKenna,” I spat out. “You should try it. It releases endorphins.”

“So does jogging.”

I couldn’t help the throaty chuckle that tore from my chest. Jogging as a replacement for sex? This girl was crazy.

“I have to go.” I shot to my feet, needing out of this room where her sweet scent was invading my senses and making my head spin.

McKenna opened her mouth to argue, but closed it once I stood.

We were done. At least for now.

Chapter Four

McKenna

That night while lying in bed, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about him. Knox Bauer. Even his name rolling off my lips sent my pulse racing.

I pulled the freshly washed sheets up to my chin and closed my eyes, trying to clear the thoughts swirling inside my head. I knew all too well that morning would come too soon, and I needed my rest. Tomorrow I was on call at the teen shelter; I’d volunteered to be put into their regular rotation of staffers. It was a big commitment but it kept me busy, which I preferred.

Even as I lay warm and cozy in my big empty bed, my thoughts flitted back to the gorgeous stranger who had given off such a mysterious and commanding vibe. I thought about how wounded he was. How high he’d built up his walls. I plotted various ways to reach him, to get through to him and help. Of course, I knew from years of schooling that successful treatment hinged on the patient actually wanting to get better. And something told me Knox didn’t. He seemed comfortable with himself and his sexuality.

I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t notice him physically. My undersexed body was highly aware of him. His masculine scent—crisp cotton and spicy aftershave with hints of sandalwood and leather. The five o’clock shadow that I was sure would rasp against my skin if he kissed me, and the deep timbre of his rough voice. It was a lethal combination that did something to me. The man was trouble, a sexy-as-hell troublemaker, but still. It bothered me that I couldn’t turn off my thoughts.

Most of the night I tossed and turned, unable to forget the way Knox’s messy disheveled hair made him look both sexy and dangerous at the same time. The way his dark eyes pierced mine, forcing the air from my lungs.

It was my job to help him, not lust after him. I’d need to follow the advice from my own lessons when he was near—counting backward from ten, taking deep, calming breaths. That is, if he ever showed up again. He seemed adamant that he didn’t belong there, and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he dropped out altogether.

What seemed like only minutes later, my alarm went off, startling me awake.

While the water heated for my shower, I dragged myself to the sink to brush my teeth. I was nothing if not efficient. After stepping into the steaming water, I cranked it as hot as I could stand. The heat enveloped me and soothed my aching shoulders. I was exhausted and struggled to remember why, what I did yesterday to wear me out.

A vision of Knox’s chiseled features invaded my mind. Oh yeah. I suppressed a shiver racing down my spine and through my belly and pressed a hand against the wet tile wall, supporting the sudden jolt at the memory of him. I’d never had that weak-in-the-knees, butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling before. I’d thought it was all a myth. But it seemed Knox was the one man who had broken through my defenses.

Too bad he was off-limits and I could do nothing about it.

Chapter Five

Knox

How your life could change so drastically over the course of a few years was crazy. I could have never imagined that at age eighteen I’d be financially and legally responsible for my three younger brothers.

But when my dad left four years ago, there was no way in f**k I was letting us get split up and sent into the foster care system. We’d been through enough. After losing Mom, and then Dad turning out to be a selfish prick, we had to stick together. Tucker had only been four, and Luke and Jaxon just thirteen and fourteen at the time. I’d graduated early from high school and began working full-time to meet our rent, utilities, and grocery bills. That first year was a blur. We had peanut butter sandwiches for dinner when money was tight, and endured the heat and electricity getting turned off more than once that first year. Things had gotten a little better since then, but it was still hard.

I knew I used girls to forget pain, to mask my emotions, and of course to feel pleasure. That had begun when I was still in high school. I also knew I had no plans to change it. Just because I was in some ridiculous sex addicts group didn’t mean I need to go all holier-than-thou and reform myself. Fuck that. My lifestyle was the only thing keeping me sane at the moment. The only thing keeping me out of jail, most likely. I might tone it down for my brothers’ sake, but I wasn’t about to change who I was.

All week long I’d worked, hit the gym, hung out at home with my brothers, and looked forward to seeing McKenna again. I knew it was stupid. She was my sexual addiction counselor, for fuck’s sake. I was delusional thinking there could be something between us, yet I knew she felt the raw magnetism just like I had. I’d seen it in her eyes. Her curiosity had been unmistakable. The soft inhalation of breath, her fluttering pulse, calling me “Mr. Bauer.” Shit, I had liked that way too much.

After a late-afternoon jog where I’d let the smoggy heat of Chicago drench me in sweat, I showered, dressed, then made the boys a snack just as they were arriving home from school. It was one of the rules I enforced—straight home after school, homework and family dinner, and then friends or other social activities. The front door burst open and a pile of backpacks, shoes, and lunch boxes hit the foyer floor. Jaxon disappeared up the stairs as Luke and Tucker tore into the kitchen, stealing crackers and slices of cheese from the counter where I’d placed them.

“What’s wrong with Jaxon?” I asked.

“He has to poop.” Tucker giggled.

I smiled. Sometimes I felt pretty damn lucky to live with only guys. We said what was on our minds, took care of business, and didn’t overanalyze things. It was a pretty sweet deal.

Minutes later Jaxon appeared, looking sullen. Even though he was the oldest, I worried about him more than the other two. He was in his final year of high school with no clue what he wanted to do afterward.

I leaned against the counter, watching them munch on crackers and listening to stories about school. Tucker wandered away after having his fill, and I brushed the crumbs he left behind into the sink.

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