Dirty Dix (Hard Love Romance #1) by Monica James Read Free Book Online

me. It can’t be that bad.”
    If only he knew.
    Lowering my voice, I lean forward, and my friends do the same. “She got herself off…on my desk…in my office. And I watched.”
    Jesus, that sounded dirty. It certainly didn’t feel dirty when I watched it happen, but saying it aloud makes it sound like a kinky peepshow.
    There is dead silence. I look at my friends, needing them to say something, anything, because the silence is killing me.
    “Guys?” I say, waiting for one of them to tell me I’m not as perverted as I feel.
    Hunter’s mouth is hanging open, but a half smile mars his features, as he’s no doubt visualizing the very graphic picture I just painted.
    “Finch?” I ask, looking at my best friend, who has paled whiter than a ghost.
    “She m-masturbated…on your… desk?” he shrieks, breaking the silence a little louder than anticipated.
    “Shh!” I whisper, gesturing with my hand for him to lower his voice.
    “I’m sorry,” he apologizes with a frown. “But Dix, oh my God, who is this woman? Who goes around jerking off on their psychiatrist’s desk?”
    “Apparently Juliet Harte does,” Hunter says with a chuckle.
    “Dixon, Gabriella has been in your office. Oh dear lord, my baby daughter has been subjected to a bordello!” shouts Finch. I groan, as his volume control is nonexistent tonight.
    Totally ignoring his melodramatics, Hunter asks with a wink, “So did you, ya know?”
    “No, I did not,” I reply, reaching for my scotch, failing to mention that she didn’t even offer.
    “So what happened?”
    “Nothing. We had our session…”
    “Hold up,” Hunter interrupts, brushing his hair from his face, as it’s slipped free from his manbun. “You still went through with the session?”
    I pathetically nod because the situation is as ridiculous as it sounds.
    “You are either the smartest, or stupidest motherfucker alive!” He laughs, slapping his hand on the tabletop.
    “He’s definitely the smartest. Good on you, Dix,” Finch says, nodding his head in encouragement.
    “Thanks, man. At least you’re a good friend.” I look pointedly at Hunter.
    “Hey, don’t be hating on me. I told you to handball her to another doctor. You’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”
    I sigh because he’s right. It was absolutely ludicrous attempting to act professional. The session was a total disaster, and I should be ashamed of myself for allowing it to ever get that far.
    “You’re not seeing her next week, are you?” Hunter asks with an incredulous look.
    “Well…” I reply, guiltily chugging down my scotch.
    “Are you insane?” Finch cries, sitting tall in his seat. “Dixon, this person is a dirty, dirty, slutty slut from the planet ‘I’m a big whore who masturbates in offices where babies have been!’ You need to never see her again, and you need to buy a new desk!”
    I can’t help the laugh that rumbles from my chest; Finch is utterly entertaining when riled up. Hunter joins in and Finch runs a hand over his full beard.
    “You guys are sick bastards.”
    And just like that, I instantly feel better.
    “I’m going out for a smoke,” I say, pushing back my chair.
    “Make sure you don’t bump into any masturbating nymphos on your way out,” Hunter playfully chides while I flip him off.
    Walking through the packed restaurant, my thoughts drift to Juliet and the predicament I find myself in. The right and smart thing to do would be to tell Ms. Harte I can no longer treat her. But that thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth, and I have no idea why.
    My mother was a devout Catholic, and in times of crisis she would tell me to pray to the Lord, and apparently he was supposed to give me some magical answer. I really could do with some answers right about now, so God, if you’re listening, how ’bout you cut me some slack and give me a sign. Please?
    “Oh, shit!” a voice from beneath me—yes, beneath me—yelps.
    I jolt back, part in shock, part in horror, as I