Page 1 of Bad for Me

YOU’RE ALL OURS

MT ADDAMS

1

ISAAC

I’m sinkinginto the leather sofa.

The cushion is well broken in, the leather itself is soft to the touch. It’s an expensive piece of furniture. Probably the most valuable thing in the room. The wall of bookshelves to my right is newish. Having been installed a month ago, I’ve noted the increase in books being displayed. The literature is all about the advancement of mental health, a few how-tos, multiple self-help novels, and good fucking Lord— how many books on the power of positivity does one person need?

It’s funny, these shelves are the polar opposite of the material found on Dr. Meredith Moore’s shelves at her residence.

I want to ask her about that. Why doesn’t she bring that filth she reads to the office? I’m sure a few of her patients would get a kick out of them. But asking her about the contents of her home would reveal a secret I’m not quite ready to share.

Soon though.

Curiosity led me to steal a few of the well-loved paperbacks a few months back. I made sure to grab the ones where the spines were cracked and creased, with pages that have old watermarks from spilled drinks and bent corners. Books that she goes back to time and time again out of comfort or simply due to the graphic content.

Those stories are certainly entertaining to read. But I prefer real pussy to the fictional kind. In fact, there is one in particular that I’m absolutely ravenous for…

I hold the gaze of the woman who sits across the room from me. She’s in the middle of some spiel about how to handle the stress of the holidays. Most of it I tune out, though I do enjoy the sound of Dr. Moore’s deep, sultry voice.

“So, you do think you’ll be ok going home to experience a proper Christmas, Isaac?”

The way she says my name… Inwardly, I moan. My dick, always at half-mast when I’m around her, twitches.

Soonbuddy, I promise it.

Clearing my throat, I consider my answer before responding. “You know what? I think things might be different this year. I feel like things might be looking up for me.”

One of Dr. Moore’s perfectly manicured brows slides upward in interest. At the same time, her skirt shifts. It’s barely noticeable, but I’m ultra aware of everything she does. My smile grows. It doesn’t matter that my therapist dresses like a fucking nun, acts like a saint, and speaks with the patience of a wise priestess. Beneath this facade is a fucking slut, and there is nothing I’d love more than to see her unravel beneath me.

As it is, her nipples strain against her blouse—they’re so taut I’m surprised they haven’t torn through the material. Saliva gathers in my mouth. What I wouldn’t give to wrap my lips around one hardened bud.

“Well, given that you’re not going to be alone this year, I’m not surprised. How do you feel about that?”

No, I certainly will not bealonethis year. But I haven’t really ever been alone during the holidays. She just thinks I have. It’s all part of the game I’ve been invited to play by another. Meredith has no idea there’s been a trap set for her of her own making. Maybe, if she was the composed, professional therapist she pretended to be, she wouldn’t be in the mess that’s about to unfold.

But, unfortunately for her, she is not. The provocative after-hour activities she indulges in have put her on a path that will lead to her undoing and straight into the jaws of two hungry predators.

“I’m pretty fucking stoked about it actually.”

Her gaze doesn’t leave my face. Dr. Moore’s carefully schooled expression gives nothing away as she waits for more of an explanation. I lean back against the couch, loving how she’s trying so hard not to give her thoughts, and her desire, away. Because while her expression says nothing, her eyes are another story.

Her pupils are blown so wide that I can hardly see the brown in them. Her lips, painted a natural pink, are slightly parted as she sucks in short, sharp breaths. Her skirt moves again. A tell if I’ve ever seen one. God, she’s going to look so fucking good looking up at me like this when I have her on her knees.

“I’m pleased to hear you’re looking forward to the holidays. For a lot of people, this is a rough time of year.”

“Oh yeah? What’s it like for you? You going anywhere or is anyone coming over?”

I already know the answer. The other predator in this game has done his research. Meredith doesn’t speak to her father. Hasn’t in years. And her mother has passed. The only other family she has is an older brother who’s been in the wind for the past decade. She’s very much alone.

“Not quite,” she admits, giving no other insight into her personal situation as always.

It doesn’t matter how casually, or directly, I ask about her life. Meredith is a closed book. That’s why I resorted to breaking and entering at her home. How else was I supposed to know who I was dealing with? When I was first asked to seduce this woman, I was given very little information. Since then, our file on Meredith has grown significantly, thanks to my efforts.

“This year is going to be different for the both of us, I can feel it,” I promise her as I drop my foot off the couch cushion, where it’s been resting for the past twenty minutes. My mouth pulls wider as excitement leaches into my veins. “But there’s another reason I’m excited about being around this year. I’m gifting myself something extra special.”

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