His to Break Read online

  “You have an appointment at two o’clock with Mrs. Collins. Make sure you come back in time. I am tired of making excuses for you.”

  “Isn’t that why I pay you?” I guide her out of the office, with my hand on her back, and lock the door behind us. “So you can be the gatekeeper around here.”

  “Sometimes, I feel like your warden. Do me a favor and show up at a reasonable hour. I can only cover for you so many times before people start to think you’re an asshole, and I’m a liar.”

  “I am an asshole.” There’s no sense in denying the truth.

  “While that is true, I am not a liar.” Erica stops in front of the elevator and hits the button for me. Once the car reaches our floor and the doors fly open, Erica holds out her hand, gesturing for me to get inside. “Have a nice lunch, Dr. Shaw.”

  I wink at her and get in the elevator. “I plan on it.”

  Aiden

  As I sit in a booth at the back of the restaurant, I wipe the sweat coating my palms down the front of my black slacks, doing my best not to run into the bathroom before my date gets here. If it were an ordinary day when my craving had taken over, I would deal with the problem myself. But after imaging my date’s tits all morning and the way her lips felt wrapped around my cock last night, I can wait a few seconds longer. I have a sickness. I am defenseless when it comes to satisfying my needs. The signs of my addiction are there. Any doctor could diagnosis me within minutes.

  Most people assume I’m a drug addict or alcoholic, especially when my body begins to tremble from the hunger aching deep inside me. I ignore all the withdraw symptoms. All that matters at this moment is that the itch I need to scratch will soon go away, and I can continue with the rest of my day as if meeting strange women for quickies in public places is normal.

  Why did I bother inviting her to a restaurant? It’s not like I plan to eat food.

  Debating whether I should grab a drink and wait for her at the bar instead, I decide to stay put. The table is closer to the bathroom. She’s late, and I’m horny, both of which are not a good combination.

  With five minutes to spare, the blonde bombshell walks through the door. She runs a hand through her long hair and scans the restaurant. It would be nice if I knew her name to call out to her. Not that I would need it, otherwise. Names are pointless when you don’t intend to use them.

  I stand up with my hand raised and wave in her direction until her eyes flicker with acknowledgment. She strolls toward me with her head held high, and her breasts pushed out, showing off a huge rack that makes me hard just thinking about shoving my face between them. On some level, I feel shame for what we’re about to do, but I don’t give a shit. I have demons to feed. She must not care either, or why else would she have come back for more?

  She sits across from me and flashes a bright smile. “Sorry, I’m late.”

  I shrug against the booth as if I don’t care. But I do. I hate waiting, especially in times of extreme need. Beggars can’t be choosy, and right now, I have to take what I can get. “Don’t let it happen again.”

  “Yes, sir,” she hisses.

  My dick twitches at her words.

  She picks up the menu and glances at it for a few seconds before her gaze meets mine.

  “What do you feel like eating?”

  I stare at her, like an animal stalking its prey, waiting to sink its teeth. “You,” I growl, keeping my voice low.

  Blushing ten shades of red, she laughs and covers her mouth with her hand. “You’re cute.”

  “I’m serious.” I move my head in the direction of the bathroom behind me and she catches on. “Meet me in a few minutes, and try not to make it obvious.”

  I get up from the table and walk into the restroom, knowing she will join me. The door swings open two minutes later.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she says. “I never do stuff like this.”

  I try not to laugh in her face. No man ever believes that line when a woman says she has never done this before. “Uh-huh,” I mutter, sliding my hands onto her hips. “So, last night was an accident. You just stumbled into The Circle as if you had found it by chance. I don’t think so. We both know that’s a lie.”

  The Circle has a waiting list of willing women and rich men who are dying to gain access. My membership has been in my family for decades, passed down from one generation to the next.

  “You know, if we’re going to make this a regular thing, can I at least know your name?”

  I shake my head no in answer and push her up against the wall. She presses her palms to the painted cinderblock and lifts her ass up in offering to me. She wants this cheap fuck in a restaurant bathroom just as much as me. No attachments, that’s my motto.

  The last time I allowed a woman to get too close, she left me with a gaping hole in my chest. All I care about is the here and now. Right now, I want to fuck this girl and be on my way, not see if she has what it takes to become my girlfriend.

  “Spread your legs,” I command, my voice coming off like a growl. “Wider,” I instruct, watching as she separates her thighs for me. The tight dress bunches up around her hips.

  My dick throbs in anticipation of being inside her. Reaching for the lock with one hand, I unzip my pants with the other just as someone barges into the bathroom. It catches me off guard. My shoulder crashes into the wall, the pain shooting down my arm.

  I grab my shoulder and turn around. “What the fuck?”

  “What the fuck is right,” a woman hisses, as she steps inside and slams the doors shut.

  Her voice takes me by surprise, causing an instant aching inside my chest. Nervous to make eye contact with Scarlett O’Brien, I let out a frustrated sigh. Once our eyes meet, her gaze travels from my booty call to me with her teeth clenched in anger.

  “Aiden, why am I not surprised to see you here with a woman? It’s like college all over again.”

  I laugh, even though sharing the same space as Scarlett hurts. It’s how I hide the pain of losing her.

  My God, I have missed Scarlett.

  “Because you know me too well.”

  She points her finger at me, a chunk of blonde hair falling in front of her blue eyes. Before she can get out another word, I interrupt her train of thought.

  I turn to the girl next to me and say, “You should go.”

  “But…” Her words die off in her throat once she realizes nothing is going to happen between us now that Scarlett is here to fuck up my orgasm.

  I dismiss my booty call with the wave of my hand. My focus remains on Scarlett, and the girl exits without another word. Scarlett is the reason I have gotten worse over the years. It’s as if somewhere deep down inside I imagine every woman is Scarlett. Because I do. They’re all nameless women for a reason.

  Now that Scarlett is here, shooting daggers in my direction, I want to grab her face in my hands and kiss her, despite all the anger I feel for her. She made me choose between an embarrassing treatment program and a relationship with her. It wasn’t fair for her to make the two contingent upon each other. She cornered me with her proposition, hitting me with too much information at once. Because of that, I couldn’t make a decision. So, I let her walk away—like an idiot.

  I never thought I would see her again. After years of debating if I should go after Scarlett, she finds me at my lowest point, in a moment of weakness, and of all places, inside a bathroom.

  My stomach tightens along with the rest of my insides, tugging at my heart. “Scarlett,” I whisper, still in disbelief that she’s here.

  She throws her hands on her hips and scans my face. “I wish I could say it’s nice to see you, but I’m not so sure about that. You still have a problem I see.”

  “As I told you five years ago, I don’t have a problem.”

  “You do.” Scarlett reaches into her purse to retrieve a business card and hands it to me. “If you ever want help with your addiction, give me a call.”

  “How about I buy you dinner first,” I coun
ter, moving closer to her.

  Scarlett backs away from me, still holding my gaze, and opens the door. “Make an appointment. You need professional help, Aiden.”

  Before I can respond, she slips through the opening and into the crowded restaurant. I glance at her card and smile. She’s done well for herself, with an office space located in the center of the city that costs a pretty penny. And she’s only two blocks away from my office. Maybe I will make that appointment after all.

  Scarlett

  After my secretary added another emergency patient to my schedule, I barely made it out of the office. This morning had an awful start, so it was no surprise that the afternoon was no better. I was supposed to meet Mark for lunch at our usual Italian restaurant, but he had insisted we meet at a local bistro instead.

  The last-minute change of venue and his sudden late-night drinks with his friends could be a coincidence. But I have my doubts. Two years together should give me some hope that things can change between us. I tend to believe the worst in people. Mark deserves more of me than I can give him. I work more than I sleep and obsess over my patients more than I eat.

  I glance to the booths on my right and find Mark tucked away in the back by the window. He’s alone and flipping through his cell phone, looking bored. I feel bad for making him wait so much. Anymore, that’s all he does.

  I slide onto the bench and drop my purse next to me. “Sorry about the delay. I had patients.”

  He holds up his hand, annoyed. “Yeah, I know the drill, Scarlett. Save it for someone who cares.”

  Even I know my behavior is destructive and unhealthy for our relationship. When was the last time we had sex or even kissed? Too long to remember.

  No one should work as much as I do. That’s why I overlooked the change in Mark’s behavior. He’s been sleeping on the couch, crashing well after midnight, without even coming into our bedroom to give me a kiss goodnight. We have a strained relationship.

  His words are like daggers thrust into my heart. “I am sorry, Mark. You don’t have to take that attitude with me.”

  “What attitude?” He peeks up from the menu open in front of him, some of his light brown hair covering his hazel eyes. “I’m getting sick of the same routine. You sound like a broken record.”

  “You could give me a break,” I say, lifting the menu from the table to flip it open. “My job is hard.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry that masonry is not as fancy and sophisticated as being a doctor.”

  “I wasn’t saying that to knock you, Mark. It’s the truth. The new treatment facility, combined with my regular patients, hasn’t been easy on me. I have a lot on my plate right now.”

  “Me, too,” he hisses.

  “How was work?”

  “Hard,” he spits back with anger in his tone.

  I hate when he gets like this with me. Mark never went to college and barely made it through high school. He has never accepted that I love him for the man he is and not the man he thinks I want him to be. Hell, I don’t even know what kind of man I want. Mark stumbled into me one day at the gas station, offering to help me with the jammed pump, and we have been together almost every day since.

  “How was your morning?”

  “A pain in my ass,” he says.

  Mark still has his eyes on the menu, refusing to look up at me. My chest aches from the weight Mark adds to my growing list of bullshit. As if I need any more stress, he has to pile more onto my plate.

  “I won’t be home until after two tonight.” He sets the menu down and glances out the window, staring off into the parking lot. “Don’t wait up for me.”

  “No, Mark that is not okay. You keep doing this. We need to talk about us.”

  He laughs. “Us? When was the last time we were an us? All you care about is your job and yourself.”

  I reach across the table to touch his hand.

  He recoils. “Scarlett, don’t even bother.”

  “Why did you agree to meet me for lunch then?”

  “Because I was hungry,” he deadpans, his eyes finally meeting mine. “And it’s lunchtime.”

  “And I’m paying,” I add.

  He shrugs. “Pretty much.”

  A pretty red-haired waitress comes up to our table, with pen and pad in her hand, smiling down at Mark.

  He returns her smile, the first one I’ve seen on his face in a long time. Fucker. We both know this relationship is over, yet neither of us will say it aloud. A small part of me doesn’t want to start over with someone else. Mark has been my support system for a long time. Not anymore, though.

  “What can I get you?” The waitress asks, looking at Mark.

  He licks his lips without even realizing he’s doing it. Asshole. Why don’t I have the strength to end things now? I should, but that would mean splitting up our things and finding another apartment. I don’t have time for a fight or a new move.

  Scanning the long list, I find a burger for us to order and then slap Mark on the arm with the menu.

  “Hey,” he says, grinding his teeth together. By the look in his eyes and expression on his face, he knows why I hit him. Men stare at beautiful women, and our waitress makes it hard not to, but he doesn’t need to do it in front of me.

  “We’ll both have a cheeseburger cooked medium well and two Coke’s. Can we also have a side of Ranch dressing for the fries?”

  She nods and scribbles our order onto her notepad. “Sure thing. Coming right up.”

  After she disappears into the crowd and toward the kitchen, I scoot along the bench and get up, using the edge of the table for support.

  “Where are you going?”

  “As if you would care,” I say, irritated.

  He doesn’t say a word, giving me my answer.

  Desperate for an escape, I want nothing more than to splash water on my face and get some air. I can’t think anymore when Mark is around.

  As I push into the restroom door, the person standing behind it falls into the wall, trying to shut me out. Giving the door a good tap with my hip, I put my shoulder into it and barge into the bathroom.

  Why is a man in the ladies room?

  He grabs his shoulder and turns to face me. “What the fuck?”

  I recognize his voice before I get a good look at his face. Aiden Shaw.

  “What the fuck is right,” I hiss, slamming the door behind me.

  He lets out a frustrated sigh. Once our eyes meet, my gaze travels from a woman wearing a skimpy dress that leaves nothing to the imagination to Aiden. My teeth clench in anger. I walked away from one asshole only to land into another.

  “Aiden, why am I not surprised to see you here with a woman? It’s like college all over again.”

  He laughs at my remark, though I don’t find it the least bit funny. “Because you know me too well.”

  After all these years, Aiden still has the same sex addiction I wanted him to kick. And the same sex appeal. My God, he looks good, even in such a compromising position. He could never hide from me. I never had an issue seeing Aiden’s sexual cravings, despite how well he hid them.

  A long time ago, we could have been more. Sharing the same airspace as Aiden hurts me, like a punch in the gut, when I think about the offer he had turned down. He denied my help and lost me in the process. Back then, I’d wanted him so bad. I thought we shared the same feelings and that my love could change him.

  I point my finger at him, a chunk of blonde hair falling on my face. Before I can get out another word, Aiden interrupts my train of thought.

  He turns to the girl next to him and says, “You should go.”

  “But…” The young woman’s words die off in her throat. She glances at me, deflated, and back to Aiden.

  Dismissing her with the wave of his hand, Aiden keeps his focus on me. The girl exits without another word. I thought she would protest.

  I try to separate my feelings for Aiden and fail. He made his choice years ago, so why do I want to throw myself at him? The chemistry I had wi
th Aiden, although never sexual, was nothing like the lackluster feelings I have for Mark.

  I cornered Aiden with my proposition, hitting him with too much information at once. He needed time to process his addiction. But I never gave him a chance. Still, he let me walk away. What an idiot.

  I never thought I would see him again. After years of debating if I should contact him, I find him at what I imagine is one of his lowest points. How we’d managed to not run into each other at psychology functions had always amazed me.

  “Scarlett,” he whispers.

  I’m still in disbelief that Aiden is here. He was the last person I had expected to see today. My stomach tightens along with the rest of my insides, tugging at my heart. But I can’t allow him the satisfaction of knowing how much I like seeing him again.

  I throw my hands on my hips, scanning his handsome face. He still has the same angular jaw, high cheekbones, perfect teeth, and a wicked smirk that he reserved for me. So many times, I had wanted to smack it off his face. Now is one of them.

  “I wish I could say it’s nice to see you, but I’m not so sure about that. You still have a problem I see.”

  “As I told you five years ago, I don’t have a problem.”

  “You do.” I reach into my purse to retrieve a business card and hand it to him. “If you ever want help with your addiction, give me a call.”

  “How about I buy you dinner first,” he counters, moving closer to me.

  I back away from him, still holding his gaze, and pull the handle to open the door. “Make an appointment. You need professional help, Aiden.”

  Before he can respond, I slip through the opening and into the crowded restaurant. He will never call. But it doesn’t hurt to extend a professional courtesy to my old friend and colleague, no matter how much pain it causes me to see him this way.

  When I get back to the table, I sit down, still out of breath.

  Mark sips his soda through the straw. “You’re as white as a sheet. Why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?”