by S. Nelson
“No,” I whispered breathlessly.
“Please,” he begged. Stone never begged. He must have been desperate. Did he know I was just as anxious?
“I can’t.”
“You can. You know you want to. Don’t deny me.” His tongue teased my bottom lip. “Don’t deny yourself.”
Then, right there, in the middle of room number four, behind a thin green curtain, I gave in to a naked Stone. My hands gripped his shoulders while I attacked his mouth, nipping and tasting him with unbridled passion. I was like a woman unhinged. Every second since I’d ended things between us had been pure torment for me. I’d dreamed of his mouth on mine, his hands possessing every inch of my body while his cock filled and stretched me into pure bliss.
I missed his kisses.
I missed connecting with him, writhing around with each other for hours on end until we finally collapsed from sexual exhaustion.
I missed the security he offered me.
I missed his friendship.
I missed being able to tell him when I’d had a tough day at work.
I missed quoting our favorite movies together.
I missed laughing with him.
I just missed him.
Placing his hands on the sides of my face, he pinned me while he returned my hunger. His tongue danced with mine, sucking and gently biting the tip while he groaned in pleasure. The rumble from his throat excited me because I knew where such passion could lead. I allowed myself to give in, even if it was only for a kiss.
Breaking away, he panted as he looked deep into my eyes. “Come back to my house, baby. Let me love you,” he enticed, kissing the corners of my mouth before devouring me whole again. Before I could muster up enough strength to answer, he pulled a bold move. Reaching for my hand, he circled my fingers around his cock. Talk about jumping the gun. But secretly, I loved it. “Feel what you do to me,” he growled. “It’s all for you. Every thick inch. All for you.”
I realized if anyone walked in on us I would be out of a job, but right then I didn’t care. All I cared about was the next few minutes, until I regained my senses enough to put an end to it. Gripping him tightly, I stroked him once from the tip to the base of his arousal before allowing him to fall from my hand.
Finally, when I knew I was surely testing fate, I withdrew completely and stepped away. “You need to get dressed before someone walks in.”
Even though his face had fallen for a brief moment, the sad look in his eyes breaking my heart, for once he didn’t argue, dressing quickly before settling back on the edge of the bed.
“So? Will you do it?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Do what?”
“Come to my house. We need to talk and finally hash this out.”
“There’s nothing to hash out,” I argued.
He jumped off the bed and stalked toward me. Running his thumb across my lip, bruised from his kiss, he cockily asked, “There isn’t?”
No sooner had he dropped his hand when Dr. Weber pulled back the curtain. My heart fell into my stomach at the sight of him. I’d been ignoring him for what felt like forever, and seeing him standing in front of me made me feel really guilty.
“Adelaide, there you are,” he said, glancing from me to Stone then back again. “Are you almost done with this patient?”
“Yes, I am,” I answered quickly, giving him my full attention.
“Good. I want you to come to my office when you finish up.”
“Okay,” I conceded.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Stone tense up next to me, but thankfully he didn’t say anything. I also counted myself lucky for the fact he had no idea who this man was. Not until Carol burst in, that was.
“Dr. Weber, you have a call on line two,” she said, smiling at me before openly gawking at Stone. She caught herself and turned her eyes back to me before making a hasty exit.
“Thanks, Carol.” Patting my shoulder, he said, “Duty calls. But I’ll expect to see you shortly.” Dr. Weber left before my next breath.
I was still turned to the side, so I couldn’t fully see Stone’s face, but I sensed he was putting two and two together and would be giving me the third degree very shortly.
“That’s Dr. Weber,” he said through clenched teeth. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“What?” I tried to play ignorant, but I knew the reason he was about to blow his top. Working against Dr. Weber in Stone’s eyes was that he was a man, first and foremost. The second thing was the man was movie star good-looking. Jet-black hair and bright green eyes were his finest attributes. Add to that his full lips and a Romanesque nose and he was quite enthralling.
But for as handsome as he was, I wasn’t interested. Never mind he was married to a woman he happened to adore immensely.
“He’s married, Stone. So don’t get yourself all riled up.”
“Since when does being married mean he’ll keep his dick in his pants?”
“Stop overreacting. I mean it.” I stared at him, preparing to have yet another fight over something which wasn’t even worth discussing.
But surprisingly, he listened. His breathing turned heavy, but he didn’t say another thing about Dr. Weber.
Pulling on his cut, he brushed past me, but before he disappeared from the room, he barked, “If you’re not at my house later, I’m comin’ to get you. I’m done with this shit.” He narrowed his gaze. “Don’t test me,” he warned before walking out.
Adelaide
Sitting across the desk from Dr. Weber was extremely nerve-racking, to say the least. I’d been avoiding him like the plague, but I knew I couldn’t stay away from the news any longer, whatever it might be.
Busily looking at something on his desk, he shuffled through the paperwork as if he were trying to buy more time. Maybe I was reading into something which wasn’t there, or maybe I’d just hit the nail on the proverbial head.
“Adelaide,” he started. “I’m not sure how to tell you this.”
My heart instantly rammed hard against my chest.
I remained silent, petrified if I spoke my fate would be sealed even quicker, which was such an asinine thought to have. Whatever he was going to reveal would be the truth, whether or not I said anything. And that was one of the shittiest parts, that I had absolutely no control over what was going to pour from his lips. Bracing myself for the inevitable, I linked my fearful eyes with his hesitant ones and counted the seconds.
Instead of him remaining in his seat, he stood and walked around his desk, choosing to sit directly next to me. When he reached out and grabbed my hand, I couldn’t hold back any longer. Tears dripped down my cheeks while I waited for the verbal blow.
“I’m so sorry, but your test results revealed you have stage two ovarian cancer. And while it’s rare for a woman your age to be diagnosed, it does happen.” He squeezed my hand for comfort, and for a moment I allowed his support to envelop me. When he’d conducted his exam a short time ago, he’d informed me there was a tumor on my right ovary, and he’d convinced me to let him do a biopsy, to make sure we covered all bases. Especially with my family’s history. I readily agreed, even though my consent had instilled instant fear. Almost as if by saying yes I was agreeing to the diagnosis somehow.
I permitted his devastating words to swirl around inside my head, thinking of all the things I needed to do as well as who I needed to break the news to. Then a ludicrous statement came crashing over me. What if I kept the news a secret? What if I just dealt with it myself, sparing my family—and Stone—in the process?
Resigned to the idea I would brave the scary waters alone, I felt a little better. I knew I would do whatever Dr. Weber suggested; I trusted him and knew he wouldn’t steer me wrong. I would see whatever specialists he had in mind, and follow a strict regimen if need be.
Stage two was a better diagnosis than stage three or four, the chances of survival increased. I knew because my mother didn’t find out until she was at the last stage, and b
y that point there wasn’t much the doctors could do for her but make her as comfortable as they could.
Because of what my mother had endured, I’d been very diligent in getting tested, and I’m glad I was. The sooner the cancer was detected the better, all things considered. Of course, I would rather have had Dr. Weber give me a clean bill of health, but it wasn’t to be. So I had no other choice but to keep my chin up and forge ahead. There would be good days and bad days, I was sure, but hopefully the good outweighed the bad.
“There’s one more thing, Adelaide.” He shifted nervously in his seat next to me.
“What is it?” I asked fearfully, wrenching free from his hold and tucking my hands underneath my legs.
“As if the news isn’t bad enough, I hate to add another thing in the mix. I can’t believe I have to tell you this, but . . .” His words trailed off before he could finish, my fear spiking higher the more he remained quiet.
“Jesus, Dr. Weber. What is it?” I cried out.
He turned his body fully in my direction, his green eyes pinning me. Steeling his nerves, he blurted, “You’re pregnant.”
I zoned out for a brief moment, shutting down any reaction I should’ve had at him telling me I was going to have a baby. Would I have been happy if he hadn’t told me the other news? Would there have been a smile on my face and hope in my heart otherwise? I simply didn’t have an answer for such silly questions. The only thing I had to focus on was how a woman could carry to full term while having that poison inside her.
“That’s impossible,” I finally responded, a comforting numbness wrapping its cold arms around me, shielding me from feeling anything at all. Except surprise and denial, of course.
“Unfortunately, I’m afraid it’s not.”
Wanting to flee from his office and process the news in private, I urged him to finish. “So, what do we do now? Can I have treatment while I’m still pregnant? Will the chemo kill the fetus, or will it cause birth defects instead?” Being a nurse, I knew a lot about the human body, but this was definitely not my area of expertise, so I looked to him to guide me to the next step.
“Well,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. It was then I realized it wasn’t easy for him to have this talk with me, any more than it was for me to hear it. In that brief instant, I felt bad for Dr. Weber. “If you decide you want to keep the baby and try to carry to full term, we won’t start treatment until the second trimester, to help prevent birth defects as much as possible. I believe you’re around eight weeks pregnant, so that gives you a small window to make your decision. If you decide it’s in your best interest not to have the baby, then we can perform a therapeutic abortion and start treatment almost immediately.”
His words hung heavy in the air. I wanted so desperately for him to take them back but he couldn’t.
Fate had decided my future, or possibly the lack thereof.
Stone
I tried to not freak out, to not rush back to the hospital and kidnap her. To force her to come to me. I wasn’t a patient man by any stretch of the imagination, but I was smart enough to realize that, if I acted irrationally, I ran the risk of pushing Addy further away. Then I wouldn’t have a shot in hell.
To help ease some of my frustration, I took a quick shower, rinsing away all the dirt and blood from earlier, being careful not to ruin Addy’s handiwork. But the soothing water hadn’t helped, so after throwing on some clothes I took to pacing in my living room. When that didn’t work, I resorted to throwing back shots. But after four, I stopped. If . . . no, when she showed up, if I was drunk it would have the same effect as if I’d gone and stolen her from her job.
She wouldn’t give me the time of day to try and work things out.
Plopping down, I rested my head on the back of the couch and tried my best to calm down. Anxiousness gripped me tight, and I knew if she made me wait much longer I was gonna crawl right out of my goddamn skin.
The clock ticked by slowly and painfully. It was nearing ten at night, and although I didn’t like the thought of Addy traveling when it was dark out, I had no other choice if I wanted her to come over. Having forgotten to ask her what time she finished her shift, I reached for my phone and quickly dialed her number.
It rang only three times before her breathy voice caressed my eardrum. “Hello?”
“Where are you?” I asked, a sternness in my voice I hadn’t even realized was present. It was extremely frustrating waiting for her and I took it out on her in the first two seconds of hearing her voice. Berating myself, I instantly corrected my tone. “Are you done with work yet?”
“Yes,” she responded right away, but something seemed off. Her voice sounded raspy and raw.
“Were you crying, Addy?”
“I’ll be there soon,” she told me before disconnecting the call, completely ignoring my question. I redialed her number but it just rang and rang before going to voicemail. Trying two more times to reach her, I finally stopped and waited for her to show up.
Eighteen minutes later, I saw her headlights pierce the dark as she drove up my driveway. Striding toward the door, I thrust it open and jogged down the front steps, coming to stand by her driver’s side door before she even shut off the engine. Impatience was certainly something I had to work on, but I knew something was wrong and the quicker I found out what, the quicker I could fix it.
I held the door open for her to exit the car, extending my hand to help her. As soon as the warmth of her palm hit my own, I led her toward the front entrance of my home before either of us said a word. Once inside, I ushered her toward the leather couch in the living room, images of the two of us suddenly springing to life. Her pinned beneath me as I thrust inside her over and over. Her on top of me and riding me until we both came undone. Bending her over the arm of the sofa, grabbing her blonde locks as I ruthlessly fucked her hard from behind, her moans so loud I was thrilled there wasn’t a neighbor for miles.
“Do you want something to drink?” I asked, praying she’d accept so she could at least relax enough to have a real conversation about what was going on between us. If she remained as closed off and uptight as she had been, then I doubted the evening’s visit was going to do anything, other than irritate me even more than I already was. “I think I still have some of that wine you like.”
She nervously played with her hands, averting her beautiful blue eyes from me. “Just water, please.”
“Are you sure? Looks like you could use something to take the edge off.” I tried to joke, but it fell flat.
“I can’t drink,” she offered, a response I knew she hadn’t meant to say simply because of her sudden reaction. She looked scared, fear crossing her face before she could hide it.
Forgetting all about trying to get her liquored up, I approached and sat down next to her, keeping a small distance between us. “Why would you say that?”
Completely ignoring the fact I’d just asked her for an explanation, she jumped off the couch and headed straight for the door. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” Before she disappeared outside, however, I caught up to her and stopped her. Wrapping my arm possessively around her waist, I hauled her back into the living room. No way was I allowing her to leave before we hashed out whatever this was between us.
“I don’t think so, sweetheart. You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.” I was already anxious and she hadn’t told me a damn thing. But maybe that was why I was all worked up, because she chose to remain tight-lipped.
“What do you want from me? Huh? You want me to lay all my issues at your feet? Ask you to save me? To be there for me when I’m not sure if I’ll even make it?’’ Clutching strands of her hair, she pulled, as if the pressure was a relief for her somehow.
Something was really wrong, and I doubted it had anything to do with the original reason she gave me for not wanting to continue to be with me, mainly my explosive temper. No, whatever she was spouting off about was something much more dangerous, or sinister, or some shit I didn�
�t even have a word for yet.
Grabbing her shoulders, I gently shook her, the dazed, far-off look on her face starting to scare me. “Addy, what are you talking about? Tell me now before I start to think the worst.” Then something dawned on me. “Does this have anything to do with why that doctor wanted to see you?” I tried to keep my voice free from rage when I referred to that man, and hopefully I’d been successful. Realizing my anger was the last thing she needed to deal with drove me to calm my tone even more before speaking again. “Did he tell you something bad?”
Not one second passed between us before she answered. “Yes.”
Moving closer, I cradled her to me, gifting her my support in the absence of words. At first, her arms remained at her sides, a stiffness holding her captive from accepting what I so freely offered. Then, before I knew it, light sobs tore from her throat while she clutched onto me as if her life depended on it. A fear, the likes of which I’d never known, ripped through me with such intensity it shook me to my core.
Pushing her back so I could see her face, I asked with trepidation, “What did he tell you?” My breathing kicked up a notch, adrenaline coursing through my veins in case I needed to react accordingly. Was she attacked and never told me? Was there something wrong with her I didn’t know about? The questions were endless, but instead of torturing myself any longer, I asked my question again. “Baby,” I soothed, “what is it? I need you to tell me.”
Instead of speaking, she reached up on her tiptoes and crashed her mouth to mine, an action which completely caught me off guard. I knew what she was doing, though—she was deflecting my question by trying to lose herself in me. When I felt her tongue press against my lips I readily opened for her, tasting her sadness as well as her need for me. It was exactly how I’d hoped things would end up when I demanded she come to my house earlier—without the secret upsetting news, of course.
“Are you going to tell me what the issue is?” I asked, surprising myself by breaking free from her intoxicating kiss.
“After,” she whispered, wrapping her hands in my hair and trying to pull me closer.
