Approval Addiction Joyce Meyer Novels & Stories

With a deep breath, Sam reached over and pushed the red button, knowing he’d get his satisfaction at last. But it would only be temporary. Mia had wound her way beneath his skin, into his blood, and he ‘d become addicted. This was the sort of addiction that couldn’t be cured overnight. This was the kind of addiction that could destroy a man if Sam let it. He’d have to find a way to break free of her, but when she came through the door, staring at him with those wide, innocent eyes, her skirt barely long enough to cover anything, her shirt unbuttoned just to the lacy top of her bra, he knew this was exactly the sort of addiction that could bring him to his knees.

Her breasts were hypersensitive to the movement within the cups of her bra and she needed to change her panties for drier ones. “Damn,” she muttered and closed her eyes. That had to be the strangest session she’d ever had. She leaned over to grab her cell phone out of her top desk drawer, scrolled through the numbers, and pressed the one she wanted. “Dr. Megan Green,” a cheerful voice answered. “Hi, Meg, it’s Joy.” “What’s wrong?” Concern instantly filled the woman’s voice. “Do you have time for a phone session?” “Always. Hang on and let me close the bedroom door. I’m at home and so is one of my roommates. What’s wrong?”

She pulled over a chair and sat across from me, looking like she wanted to say something but couldn't bring herself to do it. I didn't rush her. Instead, I picked up the coffee and took a sip. "Megan, I'm sorry…" Her unexpected apology threw me off. Before I could even question her, a sudden wave of dizziness crashed over me. My body went weak. My vision blurred, and my eyelids grew heavier with every passing second. I snapped my gaze toward Joyce. She wouldn't meet my eyes. Her face was full of guilt. "You… Why?" Tears streamed down her cheeks as she choked out an apology. "Megan, I'm sorry… My mother is sick, and I still have to support her. I can't afford to lose this job…"

My heart gave a traitorous skip as the memory of him flashed through my mind. Her eyes widened. I leaned in, our shoulders touching, my voice barely a whisper. “Lu… be honest with me.” I glanced toward the stairs before looking back at her. “Is it normal for it to feel this… addictive?” Lucia didn’t just look shocked; she looked like I’d just told her the sun was rising in the west. Her mouth hung open as she searched my face. “What do you mean, addictive?” “I don’t know,” I whispered, the embarrassment fighting with a sudden, giddy rush of happiness. It felt like a weight had been lifted just by saying it out loud. “It’s like a drug. It just feels so good.”

I was disappointing all of them, just like I had disappointed my parents by letting their murderers get away. Yet, I was sitting and chatting with the girl for whom I let those killers slip away. But I couldn't seem to stop myself. She was like an addiction I couldn't stop myself from wanting. "Well, hope for the best. Maybe he will surprise you," I told her, and she smiled warmly. "I hope so, too." Her smile got wider. "Thank you for talking to me. This was nice." Seeing her big smile, my heart reacted unusually again, and I knew it was about time I left. Or else, I was afraid my addiction might get worse.

he counted off his fingers slowly, deliberately—“five extra sips of water. That’s right, five. No more, no less.” Mia’s head shifted fractionally, just enough to register the cup, her throat dry and aching. Even in her exhaustion, the thought of water sparked the tiniest flicker of response. Her hands twitched, but they remained still behind her. Her eyes stayed downcast, wary, as if any move could set off another wave of pain. Joyce leaned closer, voice low and persuasive. “You want it, don’t you? You’ve been good so far, Mia. Just this once, follow my instructions, and you’ll get it. Five sips. Not a drop less.”

“Me too, and how that I’m here. We’re going to get you on track starting with noting when your current period started.” “I have arrived,” Joy said as she burst into my room. She posed near the bed. “No standing ovations please. I won’t stand for it.” Maggie rolled her eyes. “Oh bother. I instructed her to knock before she entered, but she insisted on this dramatic interruption.”

She handed me the little brown paper bag with the soft sweet loaf I loved, the one with the buttery center that melted when warm. I went to sit by the window ,the same spot I always took. The sunlight fell across the table. People walked past the glass. Everything looked peaceful, like the world outside wasn’t falling apart. I took a bite. Warm. Soft. Sweet. And for two full seconds, I felt okay. I told myself I would not check I*******m. I really tried. But my fingers moved on their own. Reflex. Habit. Addiction. I opened the app.

He knew her temper and once she got angry she could kill him without a second thought. Don't get it wrong Sabrina was sweet but when she got angry the world would suffer. After saying those words he gave her some ice cream to calm her down and it always worked every single time. "you are lucky you know that." "Anyway how is you girlfriend. When can I see her again." Johnny was her partner in crime. every time they were together she felt carefree and relaxed around him. She looked at him and hoped that he could live a happy life. ***FLASHBACK****

Please note the sarcasm. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Joy's POV