Page 2 of Thorns of Malice

It's another thing that torments me. My father's never gotten a decent job since Dax fired him. He won't even apply for one.It's as if his spirit was broken the day Dax demanded we leave the estate.

The only thing I could do to help my father was accept Jaxon's job and be grateful. I knew it didn't change anything. It's my fault Dad was in the position he was in. Yet it gave me a small amount of relief to contribute to the household.

Over the years, Jaxon's been a great mentor, boss, and friend. But our weaknesses run deep.

Maybe it's because we know the other's demons, but it didn't take long until we were feeding each other's addictions. No matter how much we try to stop, we can't.

At first, I thought he needed it more than I did. He constantly tempted me until I caved, which didn't take a lot of persuasion.

Lately, I can't stop pulling him down the rabbit hole with me. Every move I make centers around getting my next fix. And the fact I keep coming back to this church tosses my hypocrisy in my face once a week.

I wouldn't have come today if it weren't for Jaxon's one rule. I have to show up to every meeting or I lose my job. It's his nonnegotiable.

The one time I didn't take his threat seriously and skipped, he suspended me for a week with a final warning. Then he sat me down, and we had a long discussion about the importance of beating our addictions.

After I signed a form promising to attend future meetings, I batted my eyes how Avery Carrington used to, seduced Jaxon, and he pinned me down on his desk and fucked me hard. When we finished, we once again said it was the last time and went off to our meeting.

"Ivy," Ben repeats.

Anxiety floods me as it always does, mixing with my shame. I'm a twenty-eight-year-old woman who can't let go of the past. I pay for it daily, as does my father, who never forgets. He maynot speak about what happened, but anytime he looks at me, it's always with pity. He tries to hide it, but I see it.

Jaxon nods at me again.

I swallow hard, then admit, "I'm Ivy, and I'm a sex addict. It's been..." I glance at my watch and cringe internally, continuing, "...six, maybe seven minutes since I've indulged in my addiction."

"Hi, Ivy," the room offers in unison, with no judgment.

Ben asks, "How did it make you feel?"

I bite my lip, fidgeting with my fingers, trying to think of something more creative than my typical answer, especially with Jaxon, who's been so good to me, sitting across from me.

I can't think of anything but the blinding truth. So I take a deep breath, lock eyes with Jaxon, and admit, "Empty. Disappointed."

He gives me the same look he always does. It's full of compassion and understanding, which somehow makes me feel worse today.

"What else?" Ben asks.

Without thinking, I keep my gaze on Jaxon and blurt out, "Unable to attain the high I crave but ready to try again."

His eyes turn to fire. He licks his lips, his chest slowly rising higher, and his fingers dig into his knees.

"Ivy, look at me," Ben orders.

I wait a calculated moment, knowing what it does to Jaxon, pretending I'm Avery and hating myself for it. She's another person I want to forget but can't. The fact that I replicate so much of what she does makes zero sense. Yet I can't help myself.

Jaxon shifts in his seat, and I finally turn toward Ben. He questions, "Do you believe you'll find what you desperately want if you indulge in your addiction?"

I shake my head, knowing I won't. It doesn't matter who I fuck, where, or how. There's no recreating what I felt with Dax. Or that night...

I squeeze my eyes shut as a flashback torments me. Bobby's pushing my head into Lilly's pussy while Dax's and Bobby's cocks thrust in and out of me in tandem, my body violently convulsing with pleasure. Then Dax is pushing everyone off me, caging his warm, hard body over me and creating another hit of adrenaline so intense I blackout for a brief moment.

"Ivy, come back to us," Ben firmly orders, tearing me out of my flashback.

I blink hard and swipe at my cheek, realizing I'm crying. I sniffle. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Everything you're feeling is okay," he reassures.

But it's not. It never will be, and I know it.

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