by Mason, Renea
Moments later he opened the driver door and started the engine.
The rain poured and there was nothing that could ease the heartache I had for the doctor…and me. Once more I had sacrificed everything I loved for truth. And all I could think—was it really worth it?
Chapter Twelve
Control
Lightning flashed through the leaded glass panes of the large sitting room that opened to the foyer. The place it all began, what felt like a lifetime ago, but had only been a week. Pierre started the fire in the oversized hearth before he left me alone. It was that time of year when the days ran hot and the nights cold. The rain only added to the chill. After soaking in the spa tub, I settled into an oversized chair in the great room. I pulled my robe tight over my nightgown and waited for Xavier.
My stomach ached from nerves and I worried I’d never see him again. Would he blame me? The messenger didn’t always fare well. Would he hate me for telling? Or would he simply be too embarrassed to face me? Either way, everything was over. I waited, legs curled under me, and a cup of tea in hand.
Too preoccupied to read or do anything else, I had fallen asleep and was awakened by a loud thud and a cold breeze. I jumped out of the chair, knocking over the china cup, and made my way to the door.
Xavier kicked off his rain soaked shoes. His drenched hair plastered to his forehead and his clothes were soaked. I moved behind him and grabbed the collar on his jacket, urging it over his shoulders. He didn’t say a word.
I expected him to push past me to undress in his room, but he continued there in the entrance way, leaving the clothes in wet heaps on the floor.
I helped undo the buttons of his shirt. He neither asked me to stop nor encouraged me. Inside, I wept with happiness for his return and in sadness for the pain he felt.
In one final tug, his boxers hit the ground and he stepped out of them. He stood naked. It wasn’t the time to admire how truly beautiful he was, he needed comfort.
“Let me go make you a cup of tea.” I turned, but he yanked my arm, pulling me back to him. With me held tightly against his chest, he walked forward, forcing me to stagger backward. The backs of my legs hit the couch and he leaned over me.
He reached for the belt on my robe. His lips brushed my neck as he pushed the robe off my shoulders. He groaned, but said nothing else. Backing away, he turned me until I leaned over the back of the couch. Was he going to fuck me? Was he testing his limits? No matter what he needed, I would be there for him.
Hands cupped the outside of my thighs and grabbed my panties at my hips and dragged them down my legs.
His hand slipped between my thighs, spreading my legs slightly. A finger slipped between my folds. If he was testing to see if I was wet, he wasn’t disappointed. His cockhead pressed against my warmth and with a grunt, he buried himself inside me. I heard him suck air through his teeth before he stilled.
He pulled out then slid back in. But that was his only moment of hesitancy. He thrust in and out, then leaned over me so that the sounds he made in his throat echoed in my ear. He pushed on my shoulders every time he entered me. This was his catharsis. We weren’t making love; we were affirming he was alive.
His movements grew frantic and he pounded harder, burying himself to the hilt on each thrust. I moaned at the power in his hips and how deep I felt him like this. His lips latched onto my neck and he sucked and kissed as his crescendo grew.
Soft gasps escaped my lips with each impact.
I held onto the back of the couch, weathering the storm that was Xavier. He cried out and with one last, deep thrust he held and pulsed with release—jerking and filling me with each shudder. He didn’t move for some time, staying still inside me. His heavy breath and the crackling fire were the only sounds.
He pulled out, and turned me to face him. He took my hand and led me up the stairs and down the hallway. He paused in front of the room I stayed in, but continued on.
Around the corner were two large double doors. I squeezed his hand tighter as he opened them. The biggest bed I had ever seen sat on the far side of the massive room. A claw foot tub took the corner of the room. He pulled me gently into the room, until I stood at the foot of the bed. The thin straps of my gown slid from my shoulders, and then he picked me up by my waist and sat me on the bed. He mounted the bed, prowling toward me, and urged me in the direction of the headboard.
I worked to steady myself as he stalked toward me.
“I’m sorry,” he said as his mouth covered mine.
He pushed me back and opened my legs.
I didn’t fight him. He ran his fingers back and forth through my wetness. He slipped a finger into me and with his thumb, held me open for his inspection.
He added a second finger and began driving them in and out of me. He moved up my body, with his hand remaining between my legs.
He pulled his fingers out and brushed them over my clit and then buried them in me once more.
He moved faster, resting his palm against my clit. He dipped his head and wrapped his lips around one of my nipples. He sucked and flicked his tongue across the tip while he rocked his fingers in and out. He shifted and encased me with his body. His movements became fast and deep, as he buried his face in my neck and kissed his way from my shoulder to my ear.
He increased the pace. Faster and faster he fucked his fingers in and out of me. He shifted his angle so that he reached deeper and hit just the right spot.
My legs stiffened. I grasped his back hard, digging my fingers into his skin.
His mouth covered mine and he swallowed my scream.
Through gritted teeth I moaned as euphoria embraced me. My back arched; I clutched him tighter and felt the flood of liquid escape.
His fingers still moved fast, but they made wet sounds every time he entered.
“Xavier…”
He placed soft kisses all over my face as I came back to earth, then one lingering kiss on my lips. He jumped out of bed, pulled back the covers, and covered me with them, before climbing in beside me.
He held me against his naked body and let out a sigh.
I reached up and touched his face. Asking why he was upset was pointless. I wanted to know what this all meant. Did he need to forget? What would happen tomorrow? So I said nothing, but gave him comfort with my touch.
He wrapped me tight in his embrace as though I might get away. I savored the feel of him.
He ran his hand through his hair. “It was all a lie. I’m such a fool.”
I cupped his face. “You’re not a fool. You were a child. They took advantage of a child to explain away their own depravity and to play their sick game. You’re not a fool. You’re a victim.”
“I’ve never been a victim, Elaine. I don’t know how to be one.”
“Then don’t be one now. Don’t let them win. Don’t let this break you.” I kissed him softly.
“I was broken before. I feel like this time, I shattered.”
“I’m willing to help pick up the pieces.” I grabbed his hand, then held and kissed it. “You know, and please, don’t hate me for saying this, but had your life been any different, my sister would probably be dead, along with a thousand more, and more in the future. You can’t change what happened, but you can choose what happens now.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it. About how I should have known.”
“I can understand. I still have the same thoughts about my father.”
He locked gazes with me—so much turmoil behind his eyes.
Now was the moment of truth. Did he mean what he’d said when he said he loved me, or was it something he just didn’t understand?
“Shhhh… Let’s not waste any more time. My flight leaves in the morning. Let’s leave the past in the past.”
He lifted my leg over his hip and slid into me.
The surprise must have shown on my face, because he paused. “Are you OK?”
“Yes, I guess I wasn’t expecting you to be…ready…so soon.”
&
nbsp; He laughed and thrust in harder. “Don’t get used to it. I think my body wants to make up for lost time with you.” He kissed me.
I wrapped my arms around his neck as he rocked in and out of me.
Small groans escaped his lips along with sighs of contentment.
He increased his pace and buried his face in my neck. I moved my hand to the small of his back and caressed the muscles that tensed and relaxed with each penetration.
He nipped at my throat. “If only I had met you in another life…” Moan. “I could have been…” He held me to him as he shook. “Oh God… Elaine… I wish…” He released on a shiver and groan.
“Shhhhh…we can talk about it tomorrow. Just savor it.”
He placed soft kisses along my jaw and wrapped his body around mine. “As my queen demands.”
Chapter Thirteen
Departure
The sunlight felt wonderful on my face. The huge window in Xavier’s room revealed a beautiful blue sky sprinkled with fluffy white clouds. I sat up, trying to hide my yawn from my bed partner. But the gorgeous day took a backseat to my pondering. What would today hold, after last night? Where did this leave us now? I turned to check on his sleeping form, only to find the bed empty. The bathroom perhaps?
I slid out of bed and walked to the other side of the room. The restroom door was open and the space empty. I mangled the bed clothing to remove a sheet and wrapped it around myself. I stopped by the guest room, exchanged the sheet for a robe, and then went down the stairs to the kitchen.
“Xavier,” I shouted from room to room. No answer.
I turned and ran face first into the chest of a man in a black suit.
He grabbed my arms and pushed me back. “Mademoiselle, excuse me please. I am here to take you to the…airport. Are your bags ready?”
I was at first merely thankful that this driver spoke English, but then came the kick in the chest. Nausea set in.
“Where is Xavier?”
He shrugged.
“When did you talk with the Doctor?”
“This morning.”
So fucking stupid. How could I be so naïve? He’d never promised me more than this. But he told me he loved me.
I stared at the floor. Swallowed hard and forced back the tears.
“I’ll be right back. Let me get my things.”
****
With Paris in the rearview mirror, I did my best to move on. But the doctor was always on my mind. It was impossible to avoid him at work, although I definitely tried. I stopped using the main entrance to avoid seeing the plaque with his name, and dodged meetings that might cause me to work with his products. Thankfully, I finally had the first restful night since my return, nearly eight-weeks earlier. There was no regret. But the heartache was more than I’d thought possible—for my lost love and for his broken life.
Today, just like every other day, I headed to work, only to find myself standing in front of the receptionist’s desk on the tenth floor. The question was always on my tongue, but I was unable to spit it out. She had ways to contact him, not to mention Berta was morally flexible. All I had to do was ask her for his contact info and promise a lunch of fine dining and she would give me the means to reach the doctor. But to what end? He obviously didn’t want me, or I would have never left, and he certainly would have found me by now. I could only be so angry at him. Most of my loathing I reserved for myself. So fucking stupid.
“Elaine, we’ve got to stop meeting like this.” Berta smiled from behind her desk.
She was bound to notice my strange behavior sooner or later, but today there was a reason for my presence. I laughed. “I know strange, isn’t it? I hadn’t seen you in how long, and now I keep ending up here.”
“I mean, Ashley in Marketing does know how to order supplies.” Supply ordering had been my cover. I had enough pens to write my name around the world.
Another nervous chuckle. “No mooching of staples today. I have a meeting in the conference room around the corner. I’m just a little early.” I left out the part about coming early in hope that I could get the doctor’s contact info, but that was need to know, and she didn’t need to know.
“Oh, you’re in that meeting. Good news, they ordered out for lunch. Zaggerilli’s instead of cafeteria gruel, lucky you. Make sure you shoot me a message when you’re all done, so I can swipe the leftovers. Even Zaggerilli’s a couple of hours cold is better than fresh anything from downstairs.”
“You got it.”
The bell dinged and Sarah from print marketing stepped off the elevator. I gave a slight wave and turned. “Take care, Berta.”
I followed Sarah into the room, chose a high-backed leather seat, and pulled my laptop from my bag.
With the projector connected, the other attendees assembled, and small talk with Sarah complete, I began the obligatory meeting procedures—introductions, reading of the agenda, and goals for the meeting.
My audience only consisted of eight people, and most of them I worked with regularly. The mix of men and woman made for an easy job.
“And if you look here. The adherence of patients taking the newest version of Rx 972 was clearly influenced by the socioeconomic status of the patient.” I pointed with the laser pointer to the slide on the white screen.
The door to the room opened and my heart stopped. The man dressed in an expensive black business suit moved into the room and stood behind an empty chair.
I stopped. I couldn’t speak. His smile was a special kind of torture.
“Oh, pardon me… Ms…?” He waited for me to finish for him.
What kind of game was he playing? These people most likely knew about the fundraiser in Paris. You didn’t associate with Dr. Vincent and have it go unnoticed. I wasn’t amused. Through gritted teeth I muttered. “Watkins.”
“Please excuse my intrusion, Ms. Watkins, but I’m working on a new formulation of this, and I’m curious how the drug administration has impacted adherence.”
“It didn’t,” I snapped.
Sarah, otherwise known as ass-kisser number one, chimed in, “Oh, Doctor. May I call you Doctor? I took notes. And I believe Elaine said that when the drug was administered through self-administered injection, there was a sharp decline in adherence.”
He pulled out the chair, sat and turned to Sarah, “Thank you. And you are?” He smiled at her, touched her arm. He fucking touched her arm.
“Hi. I’m Sarah. I’ve always wanted to meet you, Doctor. You are one of the most brilliant minds of our time.”
His gaze drifted from hers to meet my death stare as he said, “And to think, my mind is the weakest of my talents.” He smirked.
I was going to kill him. Getting out of that room became my primary goal. Finish the presentation and bolt.
“As I was saying…”
“Dr. Vincent, I’m glad to finally meet you. I’m Mitch. I worked on the roll out for your last drug when it went to market. It’s great to meet you.”
The posturing made me want to puke.
“Very nice to meet you, Mitch.” The doctor reached across the table and shook his hand. “But I’m sure Ms. Watkins has another meeting after this, so let’s let her finish. We can catch up later.”
“As I was saying, the socioeconomic status of the patient impacts the level of adherence.”
“Excuse me, Ms. Watkins. Did you receive the Parisian study that I sent your department head?”
Parisian study? Was he fucking kidding? I tried not to let my irritation show. It was one thing if he wanted to pretend our week together never happened, but I wished he had the decency to disappear. Why was he doing this?
He raised an eyebrow, and from the expression on my co-workers faces, I’d paused for far too long. Leading me before to believe he cared was almost excusable, but this… After all, an agreement was an agreement. I’d spent the last eight weeks chalking it up to clever role-playing. This was outright cruel.
“No, I was told the Parisian study was top secret, and findi
ngs were never to be released.”
“You are correct, Ms. Watkins. But there are certain elements I was able to have declassified to support your research. Did you receive it? I asked Berta to deliver it to your office this morning.”
I gripped the laser pointer. “I’m quite certain I didn’t receive anything.”
He stood. “You know what? We could probably all use a break. Why don’t we adjourn until the top of the hour and you can go check?”
I opened my mouth to object, but before the words could leave, he said, “Thanks everyone,” and waved his hand toward the door urging them out.
With everyone gone we both stood there. Him staring at his clasped hands and me waiting for him to come clean.
He looked up. “Ms. Watkins, we don’t have all day. They will be back soon.”
Disbelief. I couldn’t believe he continued the act. I slammed the laser pointer onto the conference room table and stormed out.
I didn’t bother with the elevator; five flights of stairs would help burn off some of the frustration. How could he justify taunting me, especially after rejecting me?
I threw open the stairway door and marched down the hallway. There was no fucking report. I felt bad for what had happened to him, but this wasn’t funny.
Most of the people on the floor had left for lunch. I walked into my dark office, not bothering even to turn light on, because the good doctor was full of shit.
I picked up several interoffice envelopes from my inbox. None of them seemed heavy enough to hold a report, but I began the laborious task of unwinding the red string that secured each envelope’s contents. First one: signed expense reports. This was a complete waste of time.
The slam of the door closing and click of the lock caused me to drop the packet.
Xavier Vincent stood, adjusting his cufflinks.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to continue to look for that report.”
I brushed my hair out of my face. “Fine. You still want to play games.”
I bent down to pick up the envelopes.
