The Rivals - Vi Keeland Page 0,42

You would’ve thought I’d just told him how great he was rather than I’d spent the day avoiding him.

We again had a little stare-off, but this time Weston broke it. He reached down to unbuckle his belt. The sound of the metal clanking shot straight between my legs.

“Down on your knees, Sophia.”

Oh God.

He put his hands on my shoulders and gave me a little nudge, encouraging me to kneel. To my utter disgust, I did. I dropped down and reached for his zipper.

“Hey, Soph?” Weston said.

I looked up.

He grinned. “I’ve been waiting a while to use this one. Parting is such sweet swallow.”

Chapter 12

* * *

Weston

“I’m glad you agreed to come back today so we could pick up where we left off when we ran out of time yesterday. How was your evening?” Dr. Halpern asked.

“I didn’t drink anything or do anything stupid, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m guessing you have to include that in your weekly report to my grandfather?”

Actually, I suppose stupidity was in the eye of the beholder. Some people might think sleeping with the enemy was stupid, but I happened to think what was going on between Sophia and me was pretty damn phenomenal.

“The reports I send your grandfather each week focus on your progress and the stability of your mental health. I know you signed a waiver of confidentiality, but that waiver is very limiting. You should know that I cannot legally, and I do not, provide any details of what we talk about. I simply report whether you’re continuing to make progress, and whether I believe your emotional state puts you at risk for relapse.”

I actually hadn’t known that. I’d signed whatever legal mumbo jumbo my grandfather had put in front of me without reading it the day he’d agreed to give me another chance. For all I knew, he was entitled to keep my firstborn. I’d spent more time deliberating over whether I was willing to take weekly piss tests than whether I was willing to see a shrink. When I’d agreed to my grandfather’s conditions to get my job back, I’d thought this would be the easy part. Go tell some quack a load of bullshit each week, meet regularly with my sponsor, and hit up some AA meetings. I’d be back in grandfather’s good graces in no time. I didn’t count on having the urge to actually talk to this woman.

“How has it been seeing Sophia every day at work? Last time we talked about her, I thought she might be a reminder of some difficult times in your life.”

If Sophia had reminded me of Caroline initially, that definitely wasn’t what I thought about when I saw her these days. In fact, it was nearly impossible to think of anything other than the sight of Sophia down on her knees in front of me last night. This morning, I’d nearly thrown myself into a diabetic coma with the amount of sugar I’d dumped into my coffee. Normally I put two sugar packets in, but this morning while I stalked her getting her coffee, I couldn’t stop remembering the sound she’d made with my cock down her throat. It was a cross between a hum and a moan, and every time I thought about it, my balls tightened. Even now, I had to discreetly adjust my slacks.

“Working with Sophia has proven to be…interesting.”

“Oh? How so?”

I looked over at the doc. “You really can’t repeat anything we discuss in these sessions to my grandfather?”

Dr. Halpern shook her head. “Nothing. I only relay your overall mental stability.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay. Well, Sophia and I…we’ve found a productive way to put the energy we create disliking each other to good use.”

Dr. Halpern jotted something in her notebook. I wondered if it might be fucking the enemy. When she was done, she folded her hands on her lap. “So you and Sophia have entered into a personal relationship?”

“Something like that.”

“Have you made her aware of your history?”

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific there, Doc. What history are we talking about? Me sleeping with half the showgirls in Vegas? The abuse of alcohol? That my family is pretty much done with me unless I clean up my act? Or do you mean that I have babysitters who report back to my grandfather each week?”

I liked that Dr. Halpern rarely reacted—not even to my sarcastic questions. Instead, she just responded with no judgment.

“I was referring to your struggle with alcohol.”

I shook