When I Break

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 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.

‘Is everything okay, Knox? I heard screaming coming from your room the other night,’ Jaxon asked.

Jaxon was the most like me, which meant he was also the most suspicious, especially after my arrest for a DUI. I could understand their concern. I was the only guardian they had—I couldn’t go off the deep end like that again. And I refused to let them down; that would make me no better than our father.

Embarrassed, I scrubbed a hand over my face. ‘No. But it will be. In fact, I wanted to tell you that I’ve begun attending a class Saturday mornings to put my life back on track.’

‘Is it the anger management class the judge wanted you to take?’ Luke, my seventeen-year-old brother asked. His watchful eyes waited for my response.

With Tucker in his bedroom, playing superheroes by the sound of it, I figured Luke and Jaxon were old enough to know the truth. I didn’t shield them from much. To me, that was no different than lying. My father was a liar, and I didn’t care to walk in his footsteps in any regard.

I took a deep breath. The first step was admitting you had a problem, right? ‘The counselor actually wants me to attend a group for people with sexual addiction. She thought my history with girls was…too much.’

‘And that’s a bad thing?’ Jaxon asked, a hint of a smile playing at the edges of his mouth. He was way too much like me. And the several high school girls I’d found crying at our doorstep proved his track record was already eerily similar to mine.

I needed to find a way to get through to him. But I guess getting my own life on track was the first step.

Chapter Six

McKenna

Friday nights were the hardest for me. I had thought moving to Chicago would be my chance to break free, the beginning of a grand and exciting adventure. But so far, my life here had been anything but.

I worked, I volunteered, and I went home to the quiet little apartment I shared with Brian. Then I’d change into my pajamas and heat up a can of soup for dinner each night while watching sitcom reruns in my bedroom. When I thought about how different my life was from that of other girls my age, it didn’t even seem like we were on the same planet. Going out dancing, dating, going to clubs…all of it felt so far out of reach for me.

I had always thought there would be time for fun later, like I was in a holding pattern waiting for my real life to start. As if all this was temporary. Someday I’d meet someone, forgive myself, and all the stress and guilt I carried around with me would suddenly vanish. I knew it didn’t work that way, but it was a pretty thought.

While I was growing up, school and grades had always been more important than boys and parties. Plus, I was what you’d call a late bloomer. Braces and glasses hampered my social life throughout high school, as well as a layer of acne, thanks to the greasy pizza place I worked at after school. After the accident, a social life and dates to dances were the last things I cared about. It had all been about surviving.

Needing some independence from the little Indiana town where I grew up, I’d jumped at the chance when I was offered a job in Chicago to counsel troubled teens. Besides, there was nothing for me back in Indiana anymore.

After my parents passed away tragically in a car accident my senior year of high school, I’d stayed with my friend Brian and his parents so I could finish the school year. Each day I kept my head down and did what was expected of me, then each night I cried myself to sleep. After graduation, I attended a local community college and continued living with Brian’s parents, even when he moved two hours away to go to Indiana University.

I had moved to Chicago to be free, to start over. But of course that wasn’t possible. My past followed me, just like it always would. Brian decided to relocate along with me, saying he would never let me fend for myself alone in the big city. Even though that had been exactly what I’d wanted. A fresh start where no one knew me as the sad little orphaned girl.

Did I want to live with Brian? No, but affording my own place in Chicago was out of the question. We’d found a two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment, so at least we each had our own space. There was also a large kitchen and living room, and a small den where we put a breakfast table and my bookshelves. Brian had painted it a sunny yellow for me, even though we’d have to change it back to white when we moved out, per the landlord’s orders.

I should have been grateful, but his presence was a constant reminder of what had happened. Of who I’d become. I was living as a shell of my former self without any idea how to break free.

I pushed all that from my mind when I heard Brian knock at my bedroom door. Fixing on a pleasant smile, I pulled it open and stepped out into the hall. ‘Hi.’

‘Hey, you.’ He pulled me warmly into a hug, and I didn’t fight it. It was the only physical affection I got. And Brian was comfortable, like your favorite tennis shoes. ‘You ready?’ he asked.

‘Yep.’ I grabbed my purse from the counter and looped it around my body.

Brian had bought a Groupon for a painting class tonight, and invited me along. He knew I wasn’t a go-out-and-party type, and his attempts at taking me out to dinner had failed too. It felt too much like a date, so we stuck to simple activities like this. Safe. Platonic. The story of my life.

When I thought about my meeting in the morning, the prospect of seeing Knox again sent a little thrill through me, making my belly dance with nerves. All week while I worked with the teen girls at the center, I’d felt like a hypocrite. I counseled them about not making their whole life about a guy, yet here I was, all my waking thoughts consumed by the mystery that was Knox Bauer.

‘You okay?’ Brian squinted at me.

‘Fine.’ I squirmed, forcing the thoughts of Knox’s raw masculinity from my brain. ‘Let’s go get our painting on.’

Chapter Seven

Knox

After a trying week with my brothers, the last thing I wanted to do was go to my Sex Addicts Anonymous meeting—but the promise of seeing McKenna there forced my hand. I wanted to watch the way her eyes gravitated toward mine, and the soft flush of pink that warmed her cheeks when she spoke. She was a curiosity. A fun plaything to entertain me since I had to sit through the torture of being there.

I stepped into a pair of jeans and shoved my feet into my worn boots before making my way downstairs. Tucker sped past me, tearing through the kitchen with a bowl of cereal in hand, sloshing milk on the wooden floor right at my feet. He beelined it for the TV to watch his Saturday morning cartoons. It was the only time I let him eat in front of the television, so instead of scolding him for the spilled milk, I dropped a kitchen rag to the floor and began mopping it up with my foot. The TV switched on and a roar of canned laughter came from the other room as I flung the milk-soaked cloth into the sink.

Our house wasn’t clean. It wasn’t organized. But we tried to keep it somewhat tidy. We each took turns washing the dishes and doing the laundry. The floors weren’t mopped and the bathroom was often neglected, but we managed. We had clean dishes to eat from and fresh clothes to wear. It was all we needed.

During the week while the boys were at school, I managed a hardware store, and at night I occasionally picked up bartending shifts for the extra money. It provided enough to pay the bills, but bigger things weighed on me—paying for college, buying cell phones, and cars for the guys. I had no idea how any of that would be possible.

I tried to push those thoughts from my mind as I drove to my sex addicts meeting. I would deal with one problem at a time. It was all I could do.

When I arrived, the chairs were already filling up in a semicircle around McKenna. I grabbed a paper cup of weak coffee and sat down just as she was getting started. Her eyes flashed to mine and a tiny smile lifted her mouth. She hadn’t thought I would show up, and her relief was visible. I couldn’t help but give her my best panty-dropping grin and watched as her chest and neck flushed pink.

McKenna’s eyes dropped down to the notes on her lap and she took a moment to steady herself before beginning. ‘Sex addicts are very me-centric. Your addiction isn’t meant to serve anyone else. It’s a selfish pursuit. You get what you want, when you want it. And that’s why it can be so difficult to break. You’re not used to having to delay gratification. Today I want you to think about how you first became dependent on sex.’

She paused for a moment, her gaze drifting around the faces in the group. I couldn’t help but notice she deliberately avoided looking my way. Apparently I rattled her and she needed her composure to continue the meeting.

How did I become dependent on sex? I wasn’t sure I could pinpoint when it happened, but sure, I used sex to numb my pain and manage stress. Listening to McKenna, I was starting to believe that maybe it wasn’t totally normal.

‘Over time, people develop a tolerance for sex. They need more and more of it to feel okay, and they experience withdrawal if they can’t have it. Eventually, it can destroy your relationships—your marriage, your job. I know we’ve previously talked about being fired for looking at Internet porn at work, or marriages ending when a spouse discovered an affair. Your risky behaviors put you in danger for contracting a life-threatening STD. Or put you in debt, paying for strip clubs and prostitutes. None of these things lead to good outcomes. Can anyone share some of the techniques they’ve developed to work through their cravings?’

Shit. She actually wanted people to share how they avoided sex? It would be more useful to share techniques on how I seduced girls from nightclubs, coffee shops, the grocery store, or how to fuck standing up in a tiny bathroom stall. Doggie style. It was really the only option.

A timid girl directly across from me cleared her throat. ‘I count backward from ten and practice deep, calming breaths.’

‘That’s great, Mia. Anyone else?’ McKenna asked, looking straight at me this time.

I wasn’t saying shit.

Watching McKenna was hypnotic. After our last little exchange, I hadn’t been able to get her out of my mind, and seeing her in person, I completely got why. She was soft and pretty. Her voice was light, clear, and appealing. Listening to her and watching the way her mouth moved around her words penetrated my walls, reached deep inside me and went straight to my dick. I had no idea why she’d have such a profound effect on me—unless it was a simple case of wanting what I couldn’t have. I wanted to unbutton her white shirt, push it open, and rub my fingertips over her nipples until she sucked in a deep, shuddery breath. I wanted to see what kind of panties she wore and break down her walls, like she was doing to me.