“You’re lacking something and up until now I haven’t been able to put my finger on it. Your bedside manner is professional yet empathetic. Your paperwork is impeccable and your surgical skills are world class.” He pauses again, leaning forward towards me. “I’m just not sure you want to be here.”
“What! No! I do, Doctor. I’ve been working for the past ten years just to be here, working for you. I swear, this is exactly where I want to be.”
“Hmm.”
He pushes his chair back and stands up. He turns his back to me and stares out the window behind him at the evening sky. The streetlights are just starting to come on as the sunlight goes down. As usual, grey clouds dominate the sky. He stands at the window with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Sometimes, where you think you want to be and where you actually want to be are two different places.” He spins around and looks at me.
The intensity of his gaze makes my heart beat faster. What is he saying? Of course I want to be here.
“Have you heard of the sunk cost fallacy, Doctor O’Neill?”
“Yes, of course. It’s an economic concept where you become too emotionally attached to your investments and as time goes on the more difficult it becomes to drop the investment, even when you’re operating at a loss.”
“Precisely.” He’s still staring at me with those laser beams. “Except it’s not only an economic concept. It’s really more of a human psychology concept; it can be applied to all types of scenarios.”
He goes quiet and we both stay there, unmoving, staring at each other. The cogs in my brain are spinning, spinning, trying to figure out what he’s trying to tell me.
“Where do you want to be, Doctor O’Neill?” The weight of his question bears down on me.
“Here! Right here, working for you. This is where I want to be.” I answer a little too quickly, a little too loudly. It sounds like I’m trying to convince myself. Dr. Willis sits back down and opens the files back up. He answers me without looking up.
“Think about this conversation, Doctor. I believe your shift is about to start.”
I nod and stand up to leave. I open my mouth to say something, and then realise I have no idea what I want to tell him. I turn around and walk out of his office.
Once outside I let out a deep sigh. The ground feels like it’s lurching underneath me, I don’t know what is right or wrong anymore.
Does he always have to be so cryptic?!
Except I know that he wasn’t being cryptic. He’s incredibly perceptive, and he knows that my heart isn’t in cardiology.
It’s in New York, with Valerie Brooks.
Chapter 47 - Valerie
I say goodbye to my client, knowing I’ve made another sale. She shakes my hand and then hails a cab, jogging from the building’s awning to the cab door to avoid getting drenched in the rain. I look up at the sky. No signs of this storm clearing.
The rain is belting down, bouncing up off the sidewalk and flooding the gutters. I look down the street and chew the inside of my cheek. I’m only a block away from that cafe in Soho, from that loft. My heart beats a little bit faster when I glance in that direction.
A nice, warm latte would be really nice right now. I am in the neighbourhood, and if I happen to glance up at a certain set of windows, that won’t hurt, will it? It’s probably empty, or has new owners. He’s definitely in Seattle by now.
I pull out my umbrella and open it up, heading in the direction of the cafe. I duck in and fold up my umbrella, leaving it by the door and shaking my hair out. I glance out the coffee shop windows at the other side of the street, but I can barely make out the building through the rain. I shouldn’t be here, I think. It’s too close for comfort. My heart is beating hard in my chest and my breath is shallow and quick.
I walk up to the counter and order a latte, to stay. I pick a table and wait for my order to be ready. When it’s called out, I wrap my fingers around the warm mug and sit back down, wondering what I’m doing here.
I shouldn’t be here. I’ve avoided this area ever since that day, when I found the truth about Clay O’Neill’s personality. I don’t want to run into him. Didn’t want to run into him. My heartbeat quickens at the thought of seeing him. I take another sip of hot, milky coffee to calm my nerves. I shouldn’t even be nervous! He doesn’t live here anymore, I’m sure of it.
How can I be sure? I think to myself. I can’t. But I have to tell myself that he’s gone forever. Maybe if I glance up at the windows and see someone else in that gorgeous loft apartment then I’ll be able to move on knowing he’s gone.
I sip my coffee slowly, savouring every mouthful of hot liquid. It’s creamy and sweet, and it runs down my throat warming me up from the inside. I close my eyes with every sip, letting my body relax and my mind go blank.
I’ll finish my drink, and then walk across the road and look up at the windows, just once. Then I’ll walk away and I won’t come back.
I’ll move on.
This is the last step. After this, I can move on. Maybe I can even try to get myself off. I still have my Girl’s Best Friend, and I know it’s not the toy that’s broken. I know I can do it, I just have to prove to myself that I can do it without him.
Do I even want to do it without him?
Before my mind starts spiralling down that path I stand up and push my chair back. I gather my things and take a deep breath, ready walk across the street and then walk away. Forever.
My umbrella is still dripping wet but I shake it out just outside the door before opening it up. I step out into the rain and wait for the light to change, and then cross the street.
Each step takes me closer and closer to his building, his home. The building where I felt as much at home as I have anywhere else in this city. Each step makes my heart beat faster, my breath more ragged. I can hear my own heartbeat raging in my ears like a torrent, drowning out the rain and the incessant honking of New York City traffic.
I step up onto the curb on the other side of the street and look at the familiar brick wall, raking my eyes upwards slowly. Brick by brick, storey by storey, window by window, I bring my gaze up to the loft. It’s dark, there aren’t any lights on. I can’t see any furniture in the darkness nor can I see any movement. I sigh, letting all the nervous energy out with my breath.
It’s done.
He’s gone.
The realisation hits me like a moving train and the breath is knocked out of me.
He’s gone.
He’s gone.
Hot, burning tears start welling up in my eyes. I’ve lost the one thing that made me feel whole. I cut him out, without realising what I was doing. I didn’t let him explain a word to me, I just took that woman’s story at face value.
He’s gone.
I’ve lost him.
The weight of my mistake hits me. I cut him out without listening, without trusting him. I let my pride and my embarrassment get in the way of hearing what he had to say. The tears are rolling down my cheeks and finally, standing in the cold rain outside his apartment I understand the true depth of my loneliness. My feet are like blocks of concrete, I can’t move, I can’t think. I can only cry silent, unending tears.
And then, a voice pulls me out of my stupor. Not A voice, THE voice. The voice I’ve been dreaming of, the voice I’ve been missing. His voice. His voice! He’s calling my name!
“Val!”
I spin around towards the sound and I see him opening the lobby door, rushing towards me. In an instant he’s drenched by the rain but it doesn’t matter, nothing matters. He crashes into me and his arms are around me, pulling me into him. My umbrella drops to the ground as I lift my arm up towards his neck, wrapping myself around him.
His lips collide with mine and the sweet warmth of his kiss envelops me like nothing before. It’s not just a kiss, it’s more. It’s our entire beings, our hearts, our souls colliding, meshing, coming together and dancing together with our
tongues.
The rain pours down and washes my face clean of my tears. He brings a hand up and tangles his fingers into my hair, pulling my head closer to him. Our clothes are drenched, soaked in the rain. The cold means nothing, it is nothing, compared to the heat of our bodies coming together.
His hands travel down to my ass and he hoists me up to his waist. I wrap my legs around him and bring my hands to the side of his head. I don’t stop kissing him for a second. I can’t stop. I won’t stop.
He’s here.
He’s here.
He’s mine, and I’m his.
Chapter 48 - Clay
My wet shirt is clinging to my body but I don’t care, because Val’s legs are wrapped around my waist and my lips are all over hers. Her body fits into mine like two puzzle pieces. Nothing matters except her kiss.
She pulls her head back gently and looks into my eyes. The rain has matted her hair against her skull, with water running in rivulets down her face. She looks gorgeous.
“You didn’t go to Seattle,” she says in amazement.
“I did.” I say, not believing that she’s here in my arms. “I came back.”
Her eyes widen and she tightens her legs around me. She feels light as a feather in my arms. I feel her shiver against me.
“Let’s go in,” I say softly.
“What, and ruin this Notebook moment?!” She says with mock horror on her face. The rain is pouring down on both of us and we’re both soaked through. I laugh and turn around to carry her through the door. I set her down gently outside the elevator. When the door dings open I back her into it, kissing her in short, soft kisses until her back is pressed against the back wall.
I turn to press the button and as soon as the doors close I’m back to her, showering her with kisses, pressing her body against the wall. I can feel the firmness of her tits against my chest and my cock, already hard from the moment I saw her, strains against my pants.
The door of the elevator glides open and we stumble out, rushing towards my apartment door. I fumble with the keys, my hands numb from the cold rain outside.
“You never sold your place?” She asks as I finally get the key in.
“I couldn’t bring myself to do it.” I open the door and let her in. She spins around and steps towards me as I close the door behind me. I wrap my arms around her body, clothing soaked through from the rain. My hand drifts up to her cheek and I stroke it gently.
“I was miserable the whole time I was in Seattle, Val. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“Me too,” she whispers. “I tried to get over you but I couldn’t.”
I tilt her chin up and bring my face down to meet hers. Our lips meet again and it’s like the first time. Sparks fly between us as our lips dance together. This is more than a kiss, it’s an embrace, it’s passion in its purest form. It’s Love.
I pull my lips away again and stare into her deep blue eyes. They’re sparkling in a way I’ve never seen before.
“Val, I never meant to hurt you. I can tell you everyth -“ she puts her hand up to my lips to quiet me.
“No talking now,” she says. “We can talk after.”
And then, wordlessly, I see the vision I’ve been dreaming of every night and every day for three months. She brings her hands to her shirt hem and pulls it overhead, and then quickly strips herself of her bra and pants. She’s standing in front of me in nothing but tiny pink underwear and I reach towards her.
She claws at my clothing, tearing my shirt off overhead and then attacking my pants. Her hands are frantic, searching, relentless. My hands roam all over her skin, cold from the rain but warming under my touch. I leave no part of her body untouched. My hands explore her like I’ve never touched her before. Our lips find each other and we devour each other.
She lets her hands drift all over me and every touch sends sparks directly down to my cock. I can’t wait till the bedroom, I pick her up and lay her down on the soft carpet below us. My body is over hers and she wraps her arms around me once again. My legs straddle hers and she spreads them wider, tilting her hips up so that my cock is pressed against her.
I grind myself against her and a deep moan escapes her lips. That noise sends a shiver down my spine and straight to my cock. I feel ready to explode already, but I won’t. Not until I give her the best orgasm of her life.
My hands explore her body, traveling from her waist down to her hips. She shivers at my touch and then moans, letting her legs fall open. I hook my fingers into her panties and pull them slowly down her legs. She shivers as the air kisses her bare body.
And then, I taste her. My mouth finds her most sensitive spot and I can’t help but groan when I taste the sweet, saltiness of her slit. I slide my tongue down and find her opening and she moans louder for me. Her sounds reverberate through her body and through mine until every movement sends a shock down to my cock.
I can’t hear anything, can’t see anything, can’t taste anything except her. Her essence, her flavour, her body. I let my mouth travel up and down until her hips are bucking and her hands are woven into my hair.
I breathe in deep, lapping up every drop of her as my tongue dances all over her slit. She is moaning and saying my name and all it does is spur me on and make my cock harder and ready to explode.
I reach my hand up and grab her breast, pinching her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. Her hand covers mine and her back arches as I pinch it again, her moans becoming a guttural groan with every movement of my tongue.
I can sense how close she is. I can feel the vibrations in her body. I lift my head up for a second and our eyes meet, hers clouded over, not seeing anything except me. I drop my head again, this time covering her bud entirely with my mouth. I lick, kiss, lap, twirl, do everything I can to taste her as much as possible. Her hips buck into me and her hand presses my head further into her.
Each taste makes my cock harder, and every time she moves it makes me want to shove it inside her. I won’t, not until I feel her orgasm exploding through her.
I take my other hand and slip a finger inside her. I find the spot of rough skin on the inside of her walls and I rub it, gently at first and then harder. I feel her walls contract around my finger, gripping it tightly. I move my fingers and my tongue in tandem and then I feel it.
Her back arches, her arms grip at the carpet and her pussy contracts around my fingers violently. Her wetness is dripping out of her and I devour it. Her legs shake and I don’t stop until she pulls my head away and lays there, panting. Her skin is on fire and her eyes are dazed. The longer I look at her, collapsed back from the strength of her orgasm, the more I want to feel her, to feel myself inside her.
Finally she opens her mouth and breathes out a few words.
“Oh, Clay.”
Chapter 49 - Valerie
Clay lifts his head and looks at me. A smile is playing on his lips and in his eyes. My legs are jelly and I can’t feel my fingers. I can see my chest rising and falling as I breathe, still trying to regain control over my body. Shivers run through me as the aftershocks of my orgasm course through my veins.
I can feel the wetness of my pleasure dripping out of me, even now. Clay crawls up my body and kisses me tenderly, letting me taste myself on his lips. I moan into our kiss and he wraps his arms around my body.
Before I know it we’re standing, lips still interlocked and my legs wrapped around his chiseled body. He carries me straight to the bed and lays me down gently. I can feel the heat of his cock pressed against me and its hardness makes me yearn for it inside me.
I feel like there’s an emptiness inside me and I’m desperate for him to fill it. I sink into the bed and feel the weight of his body on top of mine.
Clay runs his fingers up my sides until they’re threading through my hair and gripping the back of my head. Pulling my hair, he tilts my head back to expose my neck. I feel his hot breath on my neck as he lowers his head to kiss me. The sensation sends
shivers down my spine and my already wet slit gets even wetter.
I reach down towards his cock, finding it with my hand. It feels so thick and hot in my hand and I can’t help but imagine what it’ll feel like inside of me. Our bodies melt together, hands exploring each other like inexperienced teenagers. My hunger for him is gnawing at me. I want him, I want him now.
The loneliness and emptiness of the past three months has long since disappeared. My skin is warm against him, the chill of the rain completely evaporated from us. I tangle my fingers into his hair and crush my lips against him while I buck my hips towards his cock.
“Fuck me,” I whisper breathlessly.
He looks at me, dark eyes burning with lust. No, not lust. Desire. Passion. Something more. His eyes rake down my body until he sees my hand wrapped around his cock. I can sense a thrill through me as his eyes travel down my body.
He adjusts his hips and places himself at my opening. My heart is pounding, my head is spinning. I can sense him, so close. I tilt my hips towards his cock but he moves imperceptibly away, tilting his head down to kiss my collarbone.
My moans cut through the air. I want him. I inch my hips towards him and he inches away, just letting the tip of his cock kiss my opening.
“Stop teasing me,” I tell him.
The corners of his mouth lift up.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he says gruffly. The command sends a shiver through me, straight to my centre. I can feel the heat pooling between my legs when he speaks again.
“I’m going to fuck you when I’m ready,” he continues. His voice is hard, harder than his cock. His eyes are ablaze. “You’re going to take every inch of my cock inside you and you’re going to love it.”
“I will,” I respond, writhing against him, desperate for him to enter me.
“Beg me. Beg me to fuck you.”
My heartbeat is loud in my ears and my breath is quick. I’m lost in his eyes. My own eyes widen and the thought of begging him for his cock makes me drip with desire.
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