Overdose: A British Bad Boy Romance

by Raven St. Pierre

  She wasn’t sure he meant to be so transparent, but he was. This single act, this desperate phone call, said so much.

  For now, she tabled the thoughts and felt more compelled to play along than she had before. It was knowing how, in Zander’s own way, calling for this was humbling. Because of that, she wouldn’t make him beg. Especially, seeing as how she’d been on fire for him all day, too.

  She crossed her bedroom and gently closed the door, locking it right after. Her t-shirt came off first, and then she dropped it and her bra to the floor. Using her shoulder to keep the phone to her ear, she pushed the waistband of both her sweats and panties down her thighs. Both pieces slipped off her ankles as she traipsed back to the bed and snuggled beneath the comforter. No, he hadn’t asked her to take it all off, but she did because she knew that was what he really wanted.

  “Okay, done,” she said with a coy grin, waiting for further instruction.

  Zander groaned into the phone. “Mmm… What I’d give to touch you right now.”

  She smiled, thinking recklessly for a fleeting moment. It crossed her mind that she could sneak him in without waking Ryan. They’d have to do their deed quietly, but that could be fun. She even considered letting Zander in through the garage and doing it in the backseat of her car like teenagers. It was so tempting to suggest; however, she refrained, knowing both ideas were far too risky.

  “Are you in your bedroom?” she asked, trying to visualize Zander’s surroundings as the warmth of her palm dragged across her torso.

  “Yes,” he answered. “Sitting in an armchair, watching the fire, thinking of you.”

  She thought back on their getaway, remembering how the fireplace was the only source of light they bothered with after nightfall. They didn’t need more than that.

  “What’re you wearing?” she asked next, surprising herself when the bold question left her lips. The sound of Zander’s soft, throaty laugh had her thinking he was a bit surprised, too, but of course he answered without hesitation.

  “Absolutely nothing,” he said boastfully. “I showered and, instead of reaching for a towel… I reached for my phone and dialed you.”

  An image of him sitting there, as naked as the day he was born, filled her mind. Perhaps he was still a little wet from his shower if the fire’s heat hadn’t dried him yet. She imagined herself walking up behind him, touching damp, gold-toned shoulders while the blaze roared before him.

  There was silence on the line as both set a scene using only their imagination and the details of one another’s bodies they’d memorized during their many physical encounters. Vanessa pushed both hands up her ribcage to grip the fleshy mounds of her breasts, brushing over firm nipples that hardened even more at her touch.

  Tonight, her hands were his hands.

  Everything she touched, he touched.

  Zander had only ever attempted this once before—the time he tried to coerce Vanessa into going with the flow, but, at the time, she was still playing hard to get. He avoided such activities in the past because the idea of it tended to annoy him rather than arouse him. He found it a waste of time to imagine himself enjoying a woman when there were so many he could have in the flesh, but this time was different. He actually ached with excitement as he sat there trying not to let on how pleased he was that she didn’t put up a fight.

  His respect for her circumstances was the only reason he didn’t show up unannounced like he’d done once before. That night he wasn’t himself. He’d behaved more like a caveman, an animal, coming to her home uninvited to have his way with her. While, no, he wouldn’t dream of taking it back, he knew better than to push his luck by trying it again.

  His fingertips grazed his sac and he groaned into the receiver, imagining it was her fingers trailing over the soft, velvety skin. It’d only been days since they’d been together, but it felt like much longer than that.

  He breathed the words, “I’m so hard for you,” into the phone as he stroked the length of his shaft.

  It sounded as though he was in physical pain when he spoke, which made Vanessa sympathize with him, again lending her thoughts to the idea of inviting him over. She couldn’t, though. For now, all she could offer was a realistic fantasy.

  “Sit back and close your eyes,” she demanded.

  Zander did so with a smile set on his lips as he stopped touching himself and placed both hands on the arms of the chair like he’d been asked to do.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Miles apart, both their hearts beat ferociously.

  “Let me take care of you,” was the next phrase that left Vanessa’s pouty lips as Zander imagined her licking them, wetting them before placing a greedy kiss just below his ear. He felt her hair drop over his shoulder, covering him with her warmth.

  His fingertips dug into the expensive fabric of the chair and he was damn-near throbbing for her.

  “If I was there, my hands would be all over you,” she promised. At the thought of doing just that, her right one passed over the folds of her sex, doing all she could to be patient and not get ahead of herself. They weren’t there yet. If she expected Zander to exhibit control, she had to do the same.

  “Tell me,” Zander beckoned. “Tell me how you’d touch me.”

  Vanessa’s teeth sank into her lower lip and the ache did nothing to distract her.

  “Soft. Slow. I’d want you to feel everything.”

  As she spoke, the heat of her skin on his was so real he opened his eyes for a split second, half-expecting to see her standing there before him.

  “But I wouldn’t be able to contain myself for long,” she went on.

  He loved the thought of her being impatient when it came to him. “Is that so?” he grinned.

  “Mmm hmm,” she answered, sounding dazed and distant as the fantasy carried her away. “I’d hold out as long as I could, but, eventually, I’d be on my knees, at your feet.”

  His torso tightened as he stared down his own body, envisioning her there between his parted thighs, staring at him with those deep eyes that pulled him in every time. The glow of the fire surrounded her graceful silhouette and she, this figment of his imagination, stared back.

  Vanessa’s heart was erratic as she lay there with her cheek pressed against the pillow. Licking her lips, she spoke her thoughts aloud. “I can taste you on my tongue right now.”

  Zander’s head slowly fell back, finding it difficult to fight the urge to touch himself again. The sound of Vanessa breathing softly on the other end only made it harder.

  It was no secret he was wild for her. Had been from the second he laid eyes on her. She was the perfect measure of right and wrong; good and bad, innocence and filth. He loved the contrast of light and darkness within her; loved that she didn’t shy away after discovering there was more darkness within him than anything else.

  “I need to be inside you,” he admitted, knowing he’d only be able to have her in his imagination tonight.

  “Then take what you want,” she answered, pushing a hand between her tightly closed legs once again, this time letting one finger part her folds, dipping it into the wetness that seeped from her core.

  Never having been one to deprive himself of pleasure, Zander coated his palm with the lotion he’d brought over to the chair with him. The first pass he made down his shaft sent jolts of pleasure shooting through him like strikes of lightning.

  Vanessa had given in, too. Beneath the comforter, her hand worked between her legs. She had, of course, touched herself before, but this was more intense than any other time. Her clit was swollen and firm against her fingertips as she teased it before reaching lower, inserting those same fingers inside herself, pretending it was Zander making it hard to breathe, like it was him making her squirm between the sheets.

  He was nearly ready to come. The warmth of his hand as he jerked himself off thinking of her, the wet friction reminiscent of her pussy gripping him… yes, he was nearly there.

  “Do me a favor,” he panted, quickenin
g the motion of his hand as he tensed and stretched, letting the plush rug caress the soles of his feet.

  “Anything,” she breathed, causing Zander to lose his train of thought for a moment, but then he came to his senses again.

  “I’m dying to taste you right now,” he went on. “Be a good girl and—”

  He stopped—mouth agape, breathless. A vision of Vanessa sucking her fingers, cleaning them of her own juices, clouded his thoughts as he listened to her doing just that.

  He’d definitely rubbed off on her.

  “Damn…”

  That one word tumbled from his lips and he was even closer now, stroking harder, faster.

  She was just dirty enough to surprise him when that side of her decided to surface. It seemed like some days she was just a little more daring than others, but he didn’t mind that she was a bit reserved at times. There was a certain pleasure he got from the chase.

  “Please tell me you’re close,” he whispered.

  “Mmm hmm,” she moaned, working her fingers in rhythm as she thought of him, imagining his naked frame pounding her from above, opening her legs wider.

  “Good… because I can’t wait much longer.”

  And she didn’t want him to. When they’d been together, he would begin to thrust harder now, nearly bringing her to tears on occasion, but she loved it.

  A soft wave of electricity rose from her toes and spread up her legs. She couldn’t even form words to tell Zander she was there, but her heavy breathing had already let him know.

  He, too, was on the cusp. His dick throbbed with pent up tension and he looked forward to this release. He was so hard it was almost unbelievable, but this was what she did to him. She made him crazy for her.

  His orgasm arrived suddenly when the warmth of his hand glided down his slick member, grazing the sensitive tip first, and then settling at the base. He groaned and, the next thing he knew, warm cum rained down on his naked stomach. Vanessa whimpered into the phone as he squeezed his eyes shut, holding on to that sound as the last trace of his lust for her ran down the back of his hand.

  This was nowhere near as good as the real thing, but it was good enough to hold him over until he saw her again. He’d experienced out of control sexual urges before, but never just for one woman in particular. She was all he could think about. At the office, while he should’ve been listening to patients, he thought about her. And not just sexually either. Just… thought of her in general—wondering what she was doing at the moment, how her day was, normal things like that.

  Normal—something he’d never had with a woman.

  “Ok, I need to bathe,” Vanessa finally spoke, sounding like she’d fall asleep if she laid there too much longer.

  It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her to hold off for a bit. They hadn’t had much conversation and he admittedly wanted that just as badly as he wanted everything else she had to offer. However, as usual, he held that part in.

  “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he promised, still a bit breathless.

  Vanessa nodded as if he was there to see. “Definitely. I’ll be around during lunch if you want to call,” she said casually, feeling anything but casual toward him at the moment. Honestly? She still kind of wished he was there—just to lay with when she finished in the tub.

  The thing that kept her from saying this aloud was the fact that she knew Zander wouldn’t have hesitated. If she’d made it known that she wanted him there, that she… missed him… he would’ve been at her door before she could even get the sentence out.

  She eased into the robe she’d placed on her bedpost, freeing her hair from the back of it while she forced herself to swallow the request.

  “Well… tomorrow it is then,” she said with a half-smile.

  “Sweet dreams, Love.”

  She was sure they would be. After all, he’d be all she thought about tonight.

  Just like every night lately.

  Chapter Twenty

  Yes, it’d taken Zander weeks to make this appointment, but he was here. He was here because he’d been told this was for the best, but… that point had yet to be proven.

  The warm, rich tones of Vanessa’s office, even the way she arranged her furniture, had become his comfort zone. This place, where he sat now, felt foreign and all wrong with its mostly white interior. Everything felt sterile, which made it difficult to get settled.

  Even the doctor’s habits were different. She, apparently, alternated back and forth between two different offices, one across the hall from the other. While she finished up with one patient in one room, her secretary got the next settled in the other. So, here he sat, twiddling his thumbs, fighting the urge to make an appointment elsewhere while he waited. Already, he felt like this particular arrangement wouldn’t work out.

  A light knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts and his eyes lifted just as someone turned the knob.

  Unwilling to admit his issues to other friends in the field, he enlisted in an online referral service. Because of this, he had no idea if this psychologist was even legit. For all he knew, the reviews had been curated, written by some of the doctor’s family and friends to entice new patients. That’d be just his luck.

  Clearly, he wasn’t exactly open to this, but he came because the woman he trusted, the only woman he trusted, told him this was how it should be.

  Light-blonde hair, the shade of wheat beneath the morning sun, was the first thing he noticed and then bright, shiny red lips as they curved into a smile, one aimed directly at him. The color commanded his attention as they contrasted fair skin and pale, blue eyes. A delicate neck led into slight shoulders. Yes, she was a small thing, but not frail. If Zander had to guess from her build, she was a yoga addict and… limber. He knew this because he’d dated her. No, not her specifically, but he’d dated a hundred just like her—all clones cut from the same cloth.

  He locked in on her gaze again after going down his usual checklist, the one ingrained in him after years and years of sizing women up upon first meeting them. It was just in him. He started by measuring the width of her hips and waist, noting she was far less curvaceous than Vanessa. Dr. Shafer was trim and proportionate for her short stature. In the few seconds since she walked in, she’d been profiled and didn’t even realize it.

  “Mr. Hale, is it?” she asked, moving further into the room after closing the door behind herself. She swept the length of her hair behind her shoulder and waited for a response.

  Zander nodded politely, but didn’t say more.

  The doc took a seat across from him and he noted that she kept more distance between herself and her patients than Vanessa did. He couldn’t stop comparing the two. It was just an impulse. No matter how optimistic he tried to be, one fact remained: she, this woman, was not Dr. Vanessa Ferris.

  Period.

  “I’m so glad you decided to come see me today,” she greeted him. “According to your chart, you’re a doctor,” she added with a smile.

  Again, he nodded, answering her question directly. One thing he realized had hindered his initial progress with Vanessa was his evasiveness. At every turn, he dodged her attempts to get to the root of what made him tick. He wouldn’t make that mistake this time. She taught him a lot, mostly about himself. It wasn’t that she tried so hard, but she’d become somewhat of a mirror; forcing Zander to see himself the way she, and the rest of the world, saw him. He didn’t always like the image that stared back. Finding adequate treatment was key and, God help him, he wanted to be better.

  For the child who lost his innocence way too soon.

  For himself now, and the man he believed he could become in the future.

  …for her.

  Dr. Shafer tilted her head to the side, observing him. “You’re a quiet one,” she smiled.

  He focused on his hands and released a breath, forcing himself to quickly get acclimated. He had so much of his life to reclaim, so much lost time to make up for, it only made sense to jump into this new arrangement headfir
st.

  “Not quiet,” he finally replied, meeting Dr. Shafer’s gaze. “Just… learning to be slower to speak.”

  She smiled at that. “Well, sometimes that’s wise. As long as you don’t think you’ll have a problem answering a few questions here for me today. We don’t have to get too deep into things, just—”

  “Ask whatever you need to,” he interjected, thinking the rest of his statement instead of speaking it aloud; he was ready to feel healthy. Whatever normal felt like, he wanted to give it a try.

  “Well, start off by telling me who you are. Not what you do for a living, not where you live. Tell me who you really are.”

  She’d stripped away all the easy answers, so Zander thought hard, searching for what he thought she wanted to hear.

  “I’m a man who’s recently learned there’s more to him than what he once realized. My emotions control a larger part of who I am than I used to believe,” he went on. “Or, I don’t know… maybe that’s a lie. Maybe this me, who I see when I look in the mirror now, is someone altogether different than before.”

  Dr. Shafer made a note before going on. “Was this self-discovery simply a natural progression? Something you think was bound to happen as you’ve aged and been a part of this world we live in?”

  She passed a pleasant smile his way while waiting.

  He searched for an answer and drew in a breath. “Yes and no. Age and maturity had something to do with it, but… I think it’s more than that.” As soon as the words left his mouth, an image of Vanessa passed before his mind’s eye. One corner of his mouth tugged upward and his gaze moved toward the window.

  “What else is there?” Dr. Shafer asked next. When Zander didn’t answer right away, she tried to guess. “Is there a woman?”

  From the corner of Zander’s eye, he saw her smile a bit.

  He nodded. “There is.”

  More notes. More silence.

  “How’s that been? Does she know about your addiction?”

  Again, he nodded. “She does,” was all the information he offered, knowing it was unwise to explain the nature of his relationship with Vanessa, that she’d been the one treating him before now.