Winning Alex: The Cameron Family Saga

by Shirley Larson

  Susan

  The inside of my mouth tasted vile. It took me a minute to remember where I was. Then the memories came back, very unwelcome memories of Alex holding my head while I vomited. What a romantic moment in the Caribbean. I felt like my fever was gone and the flu bug with it. It didn‘t last long, but it sure as heck was bad while it lasted. In the darkness, I could see the chair where Alex must have slept. I had just started to try an experimental stand up, when Alex appeared in the doorway.

  He came to me at once and put a hand on my arm to steady me.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Better than I did a few hours ago. Alex, I’m so sorry…”

  “Sorry for throwing up? Don’t be ridiculous. Besides, you missed me. Did you want to try again?”

  “Alex, I’m in a weakened state. I can’t bear it when you’re being charming and funny. It just reminds me how much I…like you.”

  “Susan. Dear, sweet Susan.” He gathered me in his arms as if I were a child. I lay my head on his shoulder, trying to draw some strength from him.

  He pulled away from me a little bit. “Do you think you could eat something?”

  “Maybe. What I really need is a shower and a toothbrush.”

  “I think you’ll find those accommodations in the bathroom. Then, if you like, I can order a light supper from room service and we can eat it here.”

  “That’s an excellent idea.”

  Showered, hair washed and teeth brushed, I emerged from the bathroom wearing a hotel bathrobe and feeling almost human again.

  It looked as if Alex had taken advantage of my absence and gone to his own suite to shower and shave. He looked wonderful in his white shirt and khaki pants, which I decided must be his island uniform.

  The food arrived and Alex took charge of setting it up at the small dining table in front of the window that overlooked the street. He pulled out my chair so I could sit down and then he seated himself. I couldn’t believe I could be with him like this, as if we were an old married couple sharing a meal in a way we’d done a hundred times before. The lack of sexual tension between us was quite unusual. Maybe I was still under the weather. Anyway, it was quite pleasant.

  “You stayed with me all day,” I said. “You could have gone to check out the project.”

  “I could have,” he said easily, “but I didn’t. I needed to make sure you were all right. Besides, it was an opportunity for me to catch up on my sleep. I guess you could say we were sleeping together.”

  He had that look that he got when he was more relaxed, that teasing, speculative look.

  I said, “If you gave people the correct version, nobody would believe you.”

  “What do we care what people believe?”

  “We don’t, I guess.” I realize when it came to Alex, I would do anything he wanted and not give a damn what people thought.

  I’d filled my plate with pineapple and mango chunks and lovely squares of cheese. There were crackers too, in odd shapes of clovers and stars, and I thought it might behoove me to eat a couple to help my stomach settle. He’d ordered sparkling water instead of wine, and I drank thirstily from my glass.

  “You know,” I said, “I’ve noticed that about men. They are not nearly as sensitive to what people think as we women are. I think we’re programmed from birth to seek approval.”

  “That doesn’t sound like fun,” he said in a casual tone.

  “It isn’t,” I said, thinking of things that were said about me at my old job, that I’d encouraged Myer in order to be promoted and get a raise and I deserved what I got. I remembered how much those words hurt me.

  “What do you think the answer is?” Alex asked, as if he were really interested in my opinion.

  “I don’t honestly know. It’s a conundrum. We want women to be sensitive and caring, because they are raising the children, but on the other hand, it would be nice if they had a little bit more of a tough hide so life wouldn’t bruise them so easily.”

  “Have you been bruised?”

  I was sorry I started this conversation. I didn’t want to remind him of my experience with Myer. Mostly I didn’t want to think of Myer when I was here enjoying a lovely repast on a Caribbean island with a man I thought the world of.

  “Bruises heal. Mine did.” I plucked a banana from the fresh fruit dish and began to peel it. “What’s the schedule for tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow we have breakfast, check out the project and head for home.”

  “So soon.”

  His eyes flickered downward and I had the distinct impression he was prevaricating. “Hunter wants this report as soon as possible.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say, “You could email it to him,” but I didn’t. Maybe Alex wanted to get away from this island before I threw myself at him.

  When he’d finished eating, he slapped his thighs in that way he had, and rose. “I’ve got some things to wrap up. It’s good to see you like your old self. Let’s meet in the morning. About seven?”

  “Sounds good,” I said. But it didn’t. I wanted him to spend the night with me, but that obviously was not in the cards.

  When he was about to go out the door, I said, “Alex.”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

  “You’re my favorite assistant. Can’t get along without you.”

  We both smiled, because being his favorite assistant was easy, since I was his only assistant. Then he stepped through the door and was gone.

  I had trouble getting to sleep that night, I supposed because I’d slept for most of the day. Finally, about one o’clock I dozed off.

  I came awake with a start and looked at the digital hotel clock. Three-thirty. Something was wrong…I felt it in my bones, like a mother knows when there’s a problem with her child. I wrapped myself in a robe and went to the connecting door to Alex’s room. I stood there listening. I couldn’t hear anything. I almost went back to bed, but something made me open the door and step through.

  Alex’s bed looked as if we had had lively sex last night. Covers on the floor, sheet rumpled at the foot of the bed. Alex lay at angle on the bed, his chest bare, his briefs slung low over his hips. He wasn’t moving at the moment, but by the look of the bed, he certainly had been scrabbling around. I went and laid my hand on his forehead. He was burning up. He’d caught my flu…or maybe something more virulent. Like a striking cat, he came up off the bed and grabbed my hand.

  “Alex, it’s Susan.” He held me in a fierce grip. His eyes were glassy. I don’t think he was really awake. “Alex, you’re ill. Let me call a doctor.”

  “No.”

  “Then let me get some ice for your forehead.”

  “No. Just…stay.”

  I wrenched my hand loose and went into the next room to the ice bucket I knew would be sitting on the small table next to the little frig. I got a towel, put some ice in it, and went back to Alex.

  “You never do what I tell you to.” he mumbled.

  “You know that’s not true. I’m the most dutiful assistant you’ve ever had.” I arranged the ice and the towel around his forehead. “I’ll stay with you, if that’s what you want me to do.”

  I went around to the other side of the bed and crawled in next to him. His body heat was intense. “Alex, please let me call a doctor.”

  In answer, he found my hand and gripped it so tightly that I almost doubted that he was sick. I pulled the sheet over me and found a spot that wasn’t damp with his perspiration. I was doing what he wanted me to do, staying with him, not calling a doctor. But was it the right thing? I lay there looking up at the ceiling fan going round and round. Had I been the one to give him this sickness? It seemed the only logical conclusion. I went back in my memory to see where Alex had touched me. Yes. He’d held my head up to drink that awful stuff that I promptly threw up. He’d helped me clean up. Was that enough to make him this sick? This stuff must be really contagious.

  It was perhaps an hour
later when his breathing smoothed out. He was asleep. As I relaxed and my terrible tension left me, I felt sleep overtake me as well.

  When I awoke, it was light, about eight o’clock. I discovered Alex, still asleep, had snuggled right next to me. His arm was thrown over my waist. His chest felt cool. His fever had broken, thank heaven. As much as I wanted to stay right here, close to him, I knew the best thing for him was to ease out from under his arm and let him get some much needed sleep. When I made a slight movement, his arm tightened. “Don’t go,” he said huskily.

  “Alex, you’ve been ill…”

  “Just let me lie here and feel what it would be like to wake up next to you.”

  His words seared my soul. I raised up enough to look down into his blue eyes. “It would be wonderful,” I said, “it would always be wonderful.” I had on a thin, low cut nightie and, as I leaned down to kiss him, I felt the hardness of his chest on my breasts. I took his mouth slowly, wanting to give him the chance to refuse my kiss if he didn’t feel like accepting it.

  He felt like it. His tongue came seeking mine and we played the game of hide and seek, he retreating into his mouth for me to chase him, me doing the same. I wanted him so much that shamelessly, I crawled on top of him. Like a scheming vixen, I knew he might not be so able to refuse me when he was in a weakened condition. Well, not that weak. He was hard and ready. I wriggled down enough on his body so I could take him in my mouth. I wrapped my hand around his root and suckled him, teasing him with my tongue, bringing his supple skin up and down. I swirled my tongue around his tip, making him groan my name in the throes of exquisite pleasure. Discovering that he liked that made me continue it with more energy “Susan. You are…” He grabbed at my shoulders to bring me up so he wouldn’t come in my mouth. I wouldn’t have cared, but I understood that he was being considerate of me. I held him while he came. When he relaxed, I got a wet towel from the bathroom and cleaned him with it. I lay back on my side of the bed, feeling a little bit guilty. I had taken advantage of him when he was in a weakened condition. I was shameless. I couldn’t help it. I’d never loved anyone like I loved Alex. He lay supine next to me, probably hating me. I moved to crawl out of bed. He grabbed my arm. “You’re not going anywhere.” In the next instant, he came up on top of me and straddled me. While I came instantly alive with anticipation, he stared down at me with those laser blue eyes. In the light of the day, I could see and feel his intensity. “Lift up your gown.”

  He was extracting his revenge, but it was a lovely revenge. I did as he said. Balancing himself on his knees, he leaned down and suckled me, his tongue going round and round my nipple. I went up in flames. It was exquisite, this torture. His hand was at my other breast and my hips involuntarily rose, seeking more satisfaction. He sat up then, and there was a dark gleam in his eye that was predatory. I suppose men had been looking at a woman spread underneath them like this for ages.

  “Susan. You have to wear panties to bed?”

  They really weren‘t panties as such. It was like a bikini bottom, just a narrow strip of fabric. “They came with the top.”

  “Perhaps…I can work around them.” He pushed the flimsy material aside and cupped my mound, preparing me. Then he teased me by dipping a finger inside me, slowly sliding it down and taking it out.

  “Alex, please. I need more.” I couldn’t believe I was pleading with him.

  “Oh, no, my fine lady. You, who would seduce a sick man, will take your punishment and like it.”

  Oh, how I loved this, he acting the part of a marauder, me his willing servant. He found my nub and teased it. Sensation flooded my body, but it wasn’t enough. Oh, it wasn’t enough. He was torturing me deliberately with his slow hand in and out. He leaned over and took my breast in his mouth, even while he kept me teetering on the edge with his exploring fingers. Then his mouth left my breast. He leaned over me, his dark hair brushing my abdomen. Then I felt it, the warm, wet exquisite pleasure of his tongue on my nub. I cried out his name. He explored, he suckled, he lapped. His tongue took me over and over again, until at last I exploded in an orgasm of such power that I thought I was dying. He lifted his head and cupped my mound with his hand, sustaining my orgasm. He was the complete lover, edgy, daring, considerate. And I loved him completely.

  He leaned down and kissed me, then rolled off me. “I think it’s shower time.”

  I wondered if we were going to shower together, but he went inside his bathroom and closed the door. I took that as a no. I went back through my connecting door and climbed into my own shower. I knew I should regret what just happened. We’d danced around our attraction for each other for so long and now we’d given in. Not completely, but still. Was it going to be awkward…or better?

  Evidently it was going to be exactly the same as it was. When I’d washed my hair and donned a light swing dress in a shade of blue I’d always liked, Alex strolled into my suite dressed in a light blue shirt and khaki pants, papers and laptop in hand. He laid his burden on the table and looked at me. “You look nice. Refreshed. Good shower?”

  “Good shower,” I said.

  “Ready to work?”

  “Of course,” I said, feeling like Alice after she fell down the rabbit hole. This seemed to be another dimension.

  We walked to the hotel. It was warm but there was an evocative island breeze. My body was alive, sensitive, feeling every movement of air across my skin. I was still feeling the effects of having a climax after so many years of deprivation. And yet, if I looked at Alex, it seemed as if it had all been a dream, it had never really happened.

  We poked around all the corners of the new renovation. It seemed to be right on track and yet something was off. Because I spent a lot of my spare time looking at house accessories, faucets, door trims, light switch plates, I began to look more closely at these details.

  “Alex.” I motioned for him to come in to one of the bathrooms on the second floor. “These fixtures are supposed to be good quality chrome. Not…whatever these are. And the switch plates are wrong. Somebody is swapping out the original faucets and switch plates for cheap substitutes.”

  “You’re right. Good eye. Let’s take pictures, write it up and get out of here.”

  I’ve never made an exit from an island so fast. Alex ordered up the plane, told me to get packed. In forty five minutes we had taken off and were headed up into the blue skies.

  Rochester was socked in under a heavy overcast and seemed exceptionally dark to me, after being on a sunny island.

  At the airport, Alex told me to take a cab and go home, he wouldn’t need me for the rest of the day. But I looked back to see that Lynne had come to meet Alex. She was supposed to be in New York City. What was she doing here? She looked upset as she handed him a small package. I couldn’t imagine what that was all about.

  “You are an idiot.” Pretty as she was, my sister Lynne could be a bulldog when it came to her family.

  I knew I’d be in for a tongue lashing from Lynne, but it couldn’t be helped. I had to take that medication as soon as possible and she was the only one I could ask to bring it to me. None of the rest of the family were aware of my condition.

  “Why didn’t you take enough with you?”

  “I didn’t think we’d be gone more than twenty-four hours.”

  “Don’t let this happen again. I will not lose you like we did Dad. And I wish you‘d tell the rest of the family that you have the same condition Dad had. I‘m getting tired of being the secret keeper.”

  “Just give me a little more time. Mom is so happy now with one grandchild and another on the way. I don’t want to rain on her parade. Particularly since it will bring back her sorrow at losing Dad.”

  “You know you have to stay on a strict regime of medication.”

  “Yes, nurse, I’m well aware of my limitations.”

  “What about Susan? Have you told her?”

  “Are you serious? God, no. Why on earth would I tell her?”

  “You’re going to marr
y her, aren’t you?”

  “And put her through what Mom went through when she lost Dad? No way. Not a chance.”

  “Alex, don’t be such a prick. Susan loves you. It’s written all over her face whenever she looks at you. How long do you think you can hold out against a woman who is perfect for you and adores you?”

  “Not very long, it would seem.”

  “You haven’t…”

  “No, I haven’t. Just some intense…petting.”

  “You need to be honest with her. Either tell her the truth, that you’re a scared little rabbit and you’re afraid to marry her because you might die on her, but you want to marry her anyway, or cut her loose.”

  “I can’t lose her. She’s a marvelous assistant. She’s smart and quick and…”

  “Beautiful,” Lynne said, “don’t forget beautiful.”

  The vision of Susan, that filmy nightgown up around her neck, her lovely breasts and lovely…everything exposed to me flashed through my mind. “She is that.”

  “I know you, Alex. And I think I know Susan. You’re both young adults in the prime of your lives. Neither one of you is going to be content with “intense petting” for very long. Trust me, I know.”

  It was later, in the privacy of my condo, that I admitted to myself that Lynne was right. I would have to somehow put Susan out of my private life, but keep her in my professional one. How the hell am I going to do that?

  I was distracted from my own dilemma by a family crisis. Toward the end of August, Justin’s wife Anne went into the hospital to have her baby. She had planned to have a natural birth but there were complications and the doctors decided to do a Caesarean. We were all there in the waiting room, Hunter holding his baby daughter Madeline, Liz, Mother Amelia, and Natalie, Anne’s sister, when Justin came out to tell us of the doctor’s decision. He was nearly beside himself. He was worried about Anne and worried about the baby. Liz was the first to come forward and enfold him in her arms and tell him everything would be all right, that it was a common procedure. Hunter, being the responsible patriarch asked him if Justin wanted a specialist flown in. Justin shook his head.