Overdose: A British Bad Boy Romance Read online

  Overdose

  by

  Raven St. Pierre

  Overdose

  Copyright © 2016, Raven St. Pierre

  Cover design by Raven St. Pierre

  Cover photo courtesy of Smmartynenko

  Edited by La Kata E.K.

  This book contains strong sexual themes and content not suitable for persons under the age of 18. This work is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including, but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Raven St. Pierre.

  This e-book is licensed for personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Watch the OVERDOSE book trailer here.

  Synopsis

  **Special Notice: This romance is of the darker variety. The hero is flawed and dirty. Consider yourself warned.**

  Insomniac.

  Narcissist.

  Sex addict.

  …the only description sex therapist, Vanessa Ferris, was given of her newest patient, a fellow psychologist, Dr. Zander Hale.

  From the moment he entered her office, she knew he’d be trouble—possibly the good kind. What she wasn’t prepared for was how he’d blindside her; how he would challenge everything she thought she knew about her profession, about herself.

  There are certain lines a doctor is warned never to cross with their patients, but she didn’t listen.

  Now, they’re both addicted.

  One hit was all it took.

  ***AUTHOR NOTE: "OVERDOSE" is a full-length standalone, bursting at the seams with sexual heat, thanks to one smoking hot bad-boy and his feisty, no nonsense therapist. Expect a dark tale of erotic romance with no cliffhanger. This story is not for the faint of heart and is definitely intended for readers 18 and older.

  (130,000+ words)

  Click here to view trailers for published works

  More books from Raven

  The Free Falling Series

  Gravity (Free Falling, #1) *FREE with Kindle Unlimited*

  Secrets (Free Falling, #2) *FREE with Kindle Unlimited*

  Exposed (Free Falling, #3) *FREE with Kindle Unlimited*

  Today. Tomorrow. Always: a Free Falling Novella (Free Falling, #3.5) *FREE with

  Kindle Unlimited*

  The Complete Free Falling Series (Books 1 – 3.5) *FREE with Kindle Unlimited*

  Delivered: Angel & Kai (Free Falling, #4) *FREE with Kindle Unlimited*

  The “Again for the First Time” Family Saga

  Again for the First time (AFTFT, #1) *FREE with Kindle Unlimited*

  Matt & Brooklyn: an Again for the First Time standalone (AFTFT, #2) *FREE with

  Kindle Unlimited*

  The Men of Indecent Exposure Series

  Marco (The Men of I.E., #1) *FREE with Kindle Unlimited*

  More Titles

  Red Sun *FREE with Kindle Unlimited*

  Only Love *FREE with Kindle Unlimited*

  Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob

  Thank you for your purchase! I would love to get your feedback once you’ve finished the book! Please leave a review and let others know what you thought of

  “Overdose”.

  To discover more of my books, CLICK HERE.

  If you’re interested in being in the know where future projects are concerned, and if you’re also interested in helping me reach others with my work, then CLICK HERE and let’s link up! I’d love to have you on my street team!

  Interested in being notified when I have a sale, new release, or updates? Simply subscribe to my email NEWSLETTER and stay in the know.

  I love interacting with readers, so friend me on FACEBOOK, follow me on TWITTER subscribe to my BLOG, and find me on GOODREADS!

  Curious who my muses were for the characters in this novel as well as my other books? Check out my storyboards on PINTEREST.

  Email feedback or inquiries to:

  [email protected]

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  “Your messages, Dr. Ferris.”

  Vanessa flashed her secretary, Greta, the best smile she could muster this early in the morning and accepted the stack of pink memos. After uttering a quick, “Thank you,” she continued on toward her office at the end of the dimly lit hallway—a hallway with walls made of Tuscan fieldstone. The blend of ash and coal tones were too dark in her opinion, but there hadn’t been much consideration for her preferences when the décor was chosen. This practice was technically half hers, but these dark walls served as yet another reminder of how little that mattered.

  She had no voice in this partnership.

  Never had.

  During the half hour before her first appointment, she intended to return a few calls and finish the still-warm cup of coffee in her hand. Passing by Simon’s door, the sound of his and a patient’s muffled voices could be heard inside. It was likely this early session had been Vanessa’s saving grace; the only reason Simon wasn’t waiting at her desk already this morning. That was his latest ploy and she hated it. Since he wasn’t getting much conversation from her outside the office, he resorted to cornering her inside the building where he knew she’d be civil.

  Now that the divorce proceedings had begun, all she offered her soon-to-be ex was one word answers and even those were few and far between. It was bad enough they were still linked as business partners by their joint practice. In her eyes, that was enough; he didn’t deserve her time off the clock, too.

  Not after all he’d done.

  Thumbing through the messages again as she settled into her seat, Vanessa zeroed in on one from a former colleague, Dr. James Keiser—or, Jim, as she was accustomed to calling him. Generally speaking, he only called when an interesting case presented itself, one he thought she’d be better equipped to handle. Tapping a pen on the edge of her desk, she contemplated.

  Who would it be this time?

  His referrals were always so colorful; clients who presented a welcomed challenge.

  “Jim? Hey, it’s Vanessa. Looks like you called after I left the office yesterday?”

  When he hesitated, she sat back in her seat and prepared herself, swallowing down a sip of coffee while she held the phone.

  “As a matter of fact, I did,” came
a gruff voice on the other end of the line. “I know you’re busy, as am I, so I’ll cut right to the chase. How’s your patient roster looking these days? I think I may have someone who could benefit from seeing you.”

  Vanessa shrugged to herself and calculated. “Full enough, but there’s always room for more,” she answered. Now wasn’t the time to turn down new patients; not with her plans to branch off from Simon in the near future. “Who do you have for me?”

  “Male. Thirty-five years old. Insomniac, possible narcissistic personality disorder—”

  “That’s all very interesting, but how about you get to the good part,” she cut in, smirking at Jim’s tendency to tiptoe around his point. “Why’re you sending him my way?” she asked pointedly. “Nothing you’ve mentioned thus far warrants sex therapy.”

  “Well, in addition to what I’ve already mentioned, the patient also suffers from hypersexual disorder—your area of expertise, not mine,” he finally added.

  A sex addict; nothing Vanessa hadn’t dealt with before. She nodded to herself thinking this case would likely be routine. “Okay. That sounds simple enough. Can you tell me more?”

  Jim hesitated again and Vanessa’s brow lifted as intrigue set in. “Actually… I’d like for you to delve into this one on your own. And the sooner you can avail yourself, the better.”

  Resting both elbows on her desk, she frowned. Why the rush?

  “By any chance, do you have an opening today?” Jim’s persistence definitely piqued her interest.

  She checked her schedule. “I can fit him in at one.”

  “Perfect. I’ll send him over.”

  When the call ended, Vanessa sat back and drafted a mental list of reasons her former colleague could’ve been so eager to get this patient in to see her. Glancing at the clock, she dismissed the thoughts and opened the drawer that held her pen and notepad. Her first appointment would begin soon.

  Within ten minutes, Greta buzzed the intercom. “Your nine o’clock is here.”

  “Thanks. Send her in, please.”

  Perched in her chocolate-colored, leather armchair, Vanessa stared at the blank sheet of paper and waited for Jasmine Emerson to enter. The three short knocks at the door carried an air of familiarity now after seven months of weekly sessions.

  “Come in.”

  Jasmine stepped inside and took a seat. Pushing pale, blonde hair behind her shoulders, she gave a tight smile. Vanessa returned the gesture and assessed her patient’s posture and overall mood before speaking.

  “Good morning, Jasmine.”

  A distracted, “Morning, Dr. Ferris,” was returned. The heavy, southern drawl she spoke with slowed the pace of her words in a way Vanessa found charming. It wasn’t a common accent to hear in Denver, which made it even more pleasant.

  Vanessa glanced down at her notes from the previous session. “So… how’d your little homework experiment turn out? Were you successful?”

  Jasmine sighed, her expression speaking volumes. “No, not exactly. I mean, Drew and I tried what you said, but he was a little uncomfortable with the idea of me… you know… touching myself. According to him, masturbation isn’t natural for a woman.”

  Vanessa had heard both men and women express this same notion—that self-gratification for a man is perfectly acceptable, but for a woman? Completely ‘unladylike’. If there was any truth to that theory, she was about as unladylike as they came, especially lately.

  Clearing her throat, she pushed her personal issues to the back of her mind and focused on Jasmine.

  “It’s not uncommon for men to have these views. Did you try talking to Drew about why he feels this way?”

  Jasmine nodded, blinking blue eyes. “A little, but he wouldn’t really give me a straight answer. I guess the idea of it just freaked him out.” She sighed and slumped against the back of the couch.

  “What’s on your mind?” Vanessa asked, seeing clear signs of frustration on her patient’s face and in her body language.

  “Honestly? Sex. Sex is on my mind,” Jasmine admitted, laughing a little, but then her smile faded, giving way to the sadness Vanessa had grown accustomed to seeing her bear.

  “I’m at my wits end,” she went on. “It’s been eighteen long months since my husband’s been a… a real husband to me and I’m losing hope that it’ll ever change. I suppose this would all be at least tolerable if the man believed in… you know… oral stimulation,” she added in a hushed tone, “but even that’s off the table. I shared with you that our families were deeply religious, but his upbringing was clearly stricter than mine. The man still believes anything other than plain, vanilla missionary is a sin.” There was a vacant look behind Jasmine’s eyes when she paused. “Lately… I’ve even considered filing for divorce.”

  Hearing the word ‘divorce’ made Vanessa shudder. As someone currently going through that hell, she wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

  “It’s common for soldiers with PTSD to suffer from prolonged impotence, Jasmine. No, not all of them manifest symptoms in the same way, but what your husband’s experiencing is actually quite normal.”

  “Maybe. But what I’m going through isn’t normal. I find myself watching other men like a predator, Dr. Ferris. The pizza guy. My son’s high school friends—the legal ones,” she clarified. “The mailman.”

  Vanessa cleared her throat again, but didn’t comment.

  “Dr. Ferris, I’m not the type of woman to run around on her man, but this is my reality. It’s so… unnatural,” Jasmine added, not bothering to hide her frustration.

  “Hold on to that feeling. Now tell me what ‘unnatural’ means? What exactly are you experiencing, feeling, when you say that?”

  Jasmine toiled over Vanessa’s question for a moment. “I feel… vulnerable, like cheating is a very real possibility. And after twenty years of marriage, this is new to me. Drew and I went from four, five times a week to nothing. It’s hard to just turn off those feelings.”

  “How did you deal with the sexual depravation while Drew was deployed? Is it possible to draw on those methods again?”

  Jasmine sighed. “When he was away, I waited. The longest he was ever gone was six months, so I dealt with it. But we’re not talking six months; we’re at eighteen and counting.”

  These sessions would’ve been so much more productive if Drew would give in and come to therapy with his wife. That would give Vanessa a chance to analyze his deep rooted sexual reservations and maybe offer some help. But for now, all she had to go on were Jasmine’s observations and assumptions.

  She scribbled a few notes on her notepad and then met Jasmine’s gaze again.

  “Do you truly believe you’d be happier being separated from your husband?” Vanessa asked, making sure she conveyed no judgment in her tone.

  Jasmine shifted in her seat, becoming even more visibly flustered. “Yes and no.”

  “Why ‘yes’?”

  Jasmine shrugged her shoulders. “That part should be obvious.” Vanessa didn’t say anything, so her patient elaborated. “Because if I was… if I wasn’t married anymore, I could have sex with other men without feeling guilty.” She lowered her head when shame washed over her for having admitted such a thing.

  “And why ‘no’?” Vanessa asked.

  “Because I love my husband, Dr. Ferris. Despite what you may think, if I could, I wouldn’t be with anyone else for the rest of my life.”

  Vanessa could hear the emotion heavy in her patient’s voice. “I’m not judging you, Jasmine.”

  “Maybe not out loud, but you have to be thinking what a terrible person I am. Hell… I’d judge me, too, if it wasn’t my situation. I’m a married woman contemplating leaving her husband—the loyal war hero—just to get my itch scratched.” Jasmine seemed to get lost inside her head for a moment. “I don’t want to leave him, I… I just don’t know what else to do.”

  Vanessa’s thoughts drifted to her own situation as she listened to Jasmine voice her frustrations. She had her own hurt to b
ear, hurt that ran deep. Making the decision to leave Simon wasn’t an easy one, but it felt like the only option. Their trust, their bond, had been severed. No amount of time or effort could mend that. When she came out of her thoughts, she tuned in to Jasmine’s voice again.

  “I just want sex. Like… a lot of it. Now. Does that make me a bad person?”

  “No,” Vanessa replied. “It makes you human.”

  Jasmine sighed and sank deeper into the couch. Vanessa made a few more notes and then asked what goal Jasmine wanted to set for her next session.

  She blew out a breath and gave her answer some thought, posing it as a question when she finally spoke. “I could try masturbating for Drew again? See if I can get him to loosen up a bit?”

  “Are you comfortable with that?” Vanessa asked.

  “I mean… I am. It’s Drew who can’t handle it. Maybe if we talk about it first, I can figure out what his issue is with it.” As she stood, she sighed heavily like before. “At this point, I almost don’t even care what he thinks. He’s lucky I haven’t resorted to dry-humping random household objects just to get off.”

  Vanessa held in a laugh and lowered her gaze to her paper.

  “Same time next week?” Jasmine asked.

  “Your slot should be open. Just double-check with Greta on your way out.”

  Jasmine nodded politely and then shut the door behind her.

  Alone at last.

  Each session was draining in its own way. Some patients were needier than others—looking for Vanessa to iron out all of their problems in one half-hour or hour-long session. Others left her feeling ineffective, which kept her on a constant search for new ways to approach their cases. Each one was like its own individual marathon. Some patients just wanted a hand to hold when they crossed the finish line; others wanted to sit on the sidelines and watch Vanessa run the distance all on her own. She soon came to realize that being a psychologist was tiring, thankless work.

  The sound of a knock on the door startled her. “Come in.”

  She watched as Simon peered around the door before entering and instantly regretted not asking who it was the second she laid eyes on him. That smug face of his made her sick to her stomach. He gave a half smile behind a gold-toned beard, one that had become equal parts gray over the last decade.