When I Break Page 2

  When everyone had taken a seat in one of the chairs arranged into a semicircle in the center of the room, I was just about to take the spot at the front when a guy about my age, looking tense and unsure, opened the door and just stood there.

  He was tall and extremely fit with wide shoulders and a toned chest, hinted at by the way his T-shirt clung to him. His hair was cropped close, just long enough to be messy in the front. But his deep, expressive eyes were his most stunning feature—a mix of dark hazel and warm brown framed in thick lashes and bright with intelligence.

  For a split second I struggled to pull my gaze away from his. I’d appreciated attractive men before, but this man possessed a magnetism that made it impossible for me to look away. My heart thundered in my chest while I stared, mouth open, watching him.

  His hand curled around the doorknob, but he made no move to enter. He was obviously new here. And by the looks of it, about to flee.

  “Are you here for SAA?” Our abbreviation for sex addicts anonymous. “Come on in, we’re just about to start.” I found my voice and motioned him forward.

  He swallowed hard, his throat contracting as emotions flashed across his face. Then his expression hardened and he entered the room, letting the heavy door fall closed behind him with a thud.

  Mister Tall, Dark, and Devastatingly Handsome took the last open seat, the one directly across from me, and raked his gaze over my skin. A hot shudder passed through me and I fought to control my nerves. Something about having to address the group with his dark eyes on me made me incredibly nervous.

  I cleared my throat and began. “Welcome. This is a support group for people with sexual addiction. I’ve been working with another group, so I wanted to take a moment to introduce myself, and then I’ll ask you to do the same.”

  I folded my hands in my lap and began, my eyes looking anywhere but at the guy across from me. He was too distracting.

  “My name is McKenna, and I’ve been leading another SAA group for six months. I have a bachelor’s degree in counseling and I also work at a center for troubled teens. In my free time, I like volunteering and watching scary movies.”

  I smiled warmly. “I’d like everyone to introduce themselves, tell us a bit about yourself, and if you’re comfortable, why you’re here.” I turned to the gentlemen to my left and nodded, thankful that I’d gotten through that with my voice steady and composed.

  One by one each person introduced themselves, most giving a brief snippet about why they were here. Their revelations were vague and general, saying only things like I need help to get my life back on track. That was to be expected; we’d work our way up to the more personal confessions as time went on.

  When everyone else had spoken, my eyes went to the beautiful stranger seated across from me. He cleared his throat and fidgeted in the chair, eliciting a loud squeal as the metal legs shifted against the tile floor. Something in his posture told me he had no plans to share anything about himself. Active group participation was a strong indicator of belief in the program, and one’s ability to successfully overcome their addiction.

  I frowned, realizing he might be here for the wrong reasons. A college kid on a dare from his friends, or a way to pick up easy women. I wasn’t sure, so I fixed him with a stare.

  “To be part of this meeting you must admit you have a problem, and that your life has become unmanageable and you need help. You must commit to attending the meetings and to sharing with the group.”

  The newcomer rolled his eyes. “My name’s Knox Bauer. I’m a Virgo and I like long walks on the beach.”

  I released the little breath I’d been holding. It seemed we might have a problem, one I’d have to address after group. I’d seen Belinda do the same thing before, to make sure everyone was here for the right reason.

  I pushed on, ignoring his blatant disregard for the group—for now. Finally the clock on the wall indicated our hour was up, which was good because I couldn’t take another second of his eyes watching my every move. I felt distracted and itchy, and fought the urge to run—to flee this room and Knox’s heated stare. But I told myself to calm down. I could handle this. Too bad my training in no way prepared me for a super-hot alpha male invading my space.

  After putting on a sincere smile, I wrapped up the meeting with, “Thank you, everyone. I’ll see you next Saturday and in the meantime, stay strong. And remember you can call me or your sponsor at any time.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. My first solo group had gone pretty well. All except for the newcomer, Knox, who seemed reluctant to take part in the group. It was time to address the issue head-on.

  My eyes went to Knox, who was already rising from his chair. “Knox, can you stay behind a minute?”

  He hesitated briefly, obviously thinking it over, and then lowered himself back to the metal folding chair.

  The room was too small, too warm, and I crossed the room to adjust the ancient thermostat on the far wall. I didn’t even know if it worked, but the chance to get out of Knox’s line of vision for just a moment was a welcome reprieve. I pushed the switch to the coolest setting and sucked in a few deep breaths.

  I returned to stand in front of Knox. His smile was playful as his eyes wandered the length of my body. His look was so sexual, so erotic, that my stomach twirled into a series of intricate knots and my knees trembled where I stood.

  Chapter Three

  Knox

  The overpowering scent of citrus floor polish was giving me a headache. I wanted nothing more than to escape, but I nodded in response to McKenna’s request, lowering myself back down to the seat. Evidently I was about to catch shit for not sharing my feelings in this damn circle jerk of a meeting.

  The people around me rose and filed from the room. I didn’t know what I expected sex addicts to look like, but it certainly wasn’t this. They looked like regular people, for the most part. Guys like me.

  McKenna crossed the room to fiddle with the thermostat on the wall, seeming to buy her time, and then approached me once again.

  I couldn’t resist letting my gaze slip down over her curves. Her confidence wavered as her eyes dropped from mine to the floor between her feet. There was something about me that threw her off her game. As confident as she’d been during the meeting, her self-assurance wavered as she stood before me.

  Petite, but with nice curves, she was stunning. She had long glossy hair hanging down her back and delicate features—a small nose, wide eyes, and high cheekbones. I’d be blind not to notice how attractive she was. Her eyes darted everywhere but on me, letting me take my fill uninterrupted. Wasn’t there some saying about never trust a skinny chef? Well, never trust a beautiful sex-addiction counselor either. Or perhaps it was that I didn’t trust myself around her.

  As I studied her, I realized she wasn’t like the girls I hung around. She was beautiful. Educated. Intelligent. Submissive. It was that last part that got my blood pumping south. Introducing her to the business end of my dick became priority number one, but then my lurid thoughts screeched to a halt. I cursed under my breath. That wasn’t in the cards. I needed to remember why I was here.

  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, fucking 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 fucked 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 fuck 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 fuck 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 fuck 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 butte
r 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.