Therapeutic Relations

By: Shara Azod & Raelynn Blue

Cover Artist: Shara Azod

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people, or events are coincidental, and if not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

Chapter One

Dr. Takashi Nakamura was a damn good sex therapist. He had helped countless people get over sexual hang-ups, open up to partners, and resist having gratuitous sex with strangers. He could handle a little crush. So why was it all he wanted to do was join his current patient on the crushed velvet divan?

Technically, she wasn’t really his patient; she was his partner and friend. It had been his stupid ass idea for her to talk with him as if she were a patient. That didn’t really mean all the same rules applied, right? Looking over at her as she poured her heart out, his dick hardened to the point of pain. She had no idea how she looked, reclining on the divan, eyes closed, that luscious mouth moving. He was having one hell of a time trying to concentrate on what she was saying, something about her ex-husband, Dave the Dumbass.

Takashi had known Tanya Morris since medical school. Both had decided to go into psychiatry in their third year and had gone through their residency together. If he wanted to be honest, he had to admit he’d always had a little crush, but Tanya had married her high school sweetheart right after graduating from med school. Dave hadn’t made it through med school. He hadn’t been able to keep a job, or keep his dick in his pants. It had taken Tanya five years to see what everyone around her already knew. The Dumbass was dead weight, dragging her down.

Takashi had been there for her when she finally let the loser go. Unfortunately, that had released a mountain load of emotions he had been holding back. Now that she was finally free, his psyche let lose all the pent up desire he had harbored for years. Too bad he could never let her know all that, not while she was depending on him to help her rebuild her self-confidence.

“I just don’t feel sexy anymore,” Tanya was saying.

Takashi’s eyes lingered down the soft curve of her body. Did she not have a mirror? At five foot eight, blessed with the perfect hourglass shape, Takashi had to admit Tanya wore it – damn she wore it well. Much to his mother’s lament, he had never been into the petite, tiny figures associated with most Asian women. He was above average for a Japanese American man, standing slightly over six foot two, and he wanted a woman who fit into his arms. Race didn’t matter as much as heart and Tanya had one hell of a heart. Even his mother grudgingly admitted she would be perfect for him. She was together, aside from these self-image issues – compliments of her ex. She had one hell of a head for business, far more than he, despite the stereotype. He would never admit it aloud to anyone other than her, but their practice was such a success because of her business model. If only she could see herself for the sexy, smart, sassy woman that she was.

What he wouldn’t give to stride over to the divan she was currently occupying right now.

He wanted to grab her by the hair, forcing her mouth open to accept his tongue. He wanted to mold his hands over those lovely breasts that taunted him day after day. He wanted to scrape his teeth lightly across those nipples that dared him to notice them through those silky shirts she liked to wear. He was dying to see if her bra was made of lace or satin. Her bras could not possibly be those sturdy padded kind; her nipples were way too visible for that. Were her panties thongs, boy cut or bikinis? There were no discernable panty lines, so he was guessing thongs.

There was no doubt they matched of the same alluring fabrics of her bras. She was just that type of woman.

Tanya dressed professionally, but she dressed as a woman proud of her femininity. All too often professional women hid under severe pant and dress suits and sensible shoes. Tanya wore clothes that fit, hugging her curves without being raunchy or suggestive. She wore vibrant