by Ana Medeiros
Chapter 8
The next day, when Julian finally managed to leave his home, he was late for his first patient consultation. It was snowing and the drive to the hospital was slow and hazardous, the roads full of frustrated drivers who were constantly honking and glancing furtively at the screens of their phones.
“Good morning Dr. Reeve.”
Julian turned and managed to smile at Clementine, the department secretary. People loved her because she looked like the quintessential grandmother—a plump, sixty-year-old woman who always wore her hair in a Heidi braid. Julian was convinced Clementine knew that everyone saw her as the department matriarch and that she used that knowledge to her advantage. She was more disorganized than all the doctors she was meant to support and her computer skills were limited to sending emails. Clementine didn’t know how to book a flight or a hotel. Many times he had been close to demanding she be replaced but every time he stopped himself. He had a soft spot for Clementine. She always made sure there was a fresh cup of coffee in his office waiting for him.
“Should I send Lily in?” she added.
“Please.” He couldn’t be happier that today Lily’s mother wasn’t attending their session. His dislike for the woman was too strong and he didn’t know if this morning he would be able to hide it.
Two minutes later, he was sitting across from a thirteen-year-old girl who was wasting away. Her anorexia was winning and after several months of therapy, Julian didn’t know if Lily was going to make it. Losing a patient to their illness was never easy but he suspected losing Lily would haunt him. He needed her to live.
“Can I have some coffee?”
Julian saw the way she was staring at the mug he held in his hand. “I think that’s a bad idea, Lily.”
“It helps with the hunger.”
“I know.”
She didn’t try to argue with him. She turned her face to the window. He watched her. She had been released from the hospital a week ago and being back at home wasn’t helping. Lily was even more withdrawn than the last time she had been in his office.
“I’m glad your mom is not here today.”
“Me too.”
“She’s hard on you, isn’t she?”
“I hate her.”
Julian wished he could tell her he shared her feelings. “Could you go live with your dad for a while? I was told he’s doing better.”
When Lily spoke her voice showed no emotion. “He’s still a drunk.”
Julian stared at his coffee mug. He needed to tell her the truth. “Lily?” he said, his tone gentle. He now had his eyes on her and he waited for her to face him. She took her time but when she did, Julian held her gaze. “While you’re sitting here with me your friends are out there hanging out with each other, chatting about who they have a crush on, shopping, listening to the music they love, making plans for the summer. Not only are you missing out on all of that, you’re going to die. Not several years down the road. I’m talking in a couple of months. Before all that snow outside even melts. I’m not trying to scare you, Lily. I’m being honest with you. Your body is shutting down.”
“I’m not scared.”
“Think about all the things you could do but you won’t have a chance to because you’ll be dead.”
She left her chair and went to stand by the window, her back to him. Julian didn’t know how she was managing to hold herself up. He joined her.
“I don’t want to talk…not right now,” she said.
He put his hands in his pockets, watching the traffic on the street below. “Is it okay if I just stand here with you?” He saw her nod. “Seeing the cars…the people…it always brings me peace,” Julian continued. “The noise in my head goes away and I feel better.”
“It makes me forget everything that hurts,” Lily added.
“And I feel less alone.”
“And I feel less alone,” she repeated.
Neither of them spoke for the rest of Lily’s appointment. They stood, side by side, watching life unfold through the dirty window.
By the time Julian left the hospital it was dark outside. It hadn’t been a good day. After making a few phone calls and strategically avoiding his colleagues, he had left feeling powerless.
Julian decided to walk to his usual coffee shop, enjoying the harshness of the cold wind on his face. Caffeine had always helped him and he knew as soon as he was able to smell the robust and intense notes of an espresso, he would start to feel like the man he needed to be.
He wished he wore weather appropriate clothes rather than tailored slacks, a merino wool jacket and dress shoes. His clothes made him look like he should be strolling the streets of a European capital, not sinking his legs into large piles of grimy snow and sliding on patches of ice. By the time he entered the coffee shop, half of his body had gone numb, and he spent some time wiping his feet on the large rug by the entrance. He needed to warm up.
The place was rugged, faintly smelling of decay—the usual character of a rundown building—something he tended to secretly enjoy. As he ordered his much needed espresso and prepared to leave, Julian suddenly came face-to-face with the person who, for the last several weeks, hadn’t left his thoughts.
“Hi,” said the young woman standing in front of him.
Julian blinked several times, forgetting the espresso in his hand. Timidly smiling at him, she was waiting for him to reply, but all he could do was look at her with a combination of awe, relief, and surprise.
“Hi,” he finally said.
Neither of them spoke but they continued to stare at each other. She shifted on her feet. “Hi there,” she said again. “Do you remember me? Last time you saw me I had less on.”
Julian continued to look at her. Never before had someone he had seen at the club approached him.
“Am I breaking one of the rules by speaking to you?” She started to back away from him, suddenly more interested in Julian’s shoes than his face. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”
As she turned away, Julian reached out to her, stopping her. “Please, don’t go. I wasn’t expecting to see you here, that’s all.” He knew he couldn’t be handling that moment more ineptly. “I do remember you.” He smiled. “And you weren’t wearing anything.”
She laughed. “I was sitting over there,” she paused, pointing at her things on the back corner table, “when I saw you come in. I thought to myself—now he’s underdressed.”
Julian laughed with her. She had looked shorter at the club. He wished her hair was down and not up in a loose ponytail. He remembered her long, untamed hair and how enticing it had been to him.
“I’m Julian.”
“Alana.”
She had approached him but she was shy. He could see it in the way she stood by him and by the light blushing on her cheeks as she said her name. Before glancing away, her eyes lingered on his. Julian didn’t feel the same visceral emotion he had experienced at the club, maybe it was because she wasn’t showing the same self-possession. But, in that moment, he recognized in himself a sentiment he believed he was no longer capable of feeling—affection. It made his hesitation vanish.
“Do you want to sit and chat for a bit?” Julian asked as he moved away from the small group of people waiting for their coffees.
“Would love to.” She took a step back as he got closer. “Want to sit at my table?”
He took note of her reaction to him. “Sounds perfect.”
They made their way to her table and he sat across from her. He noticed the pile of books. “What are you reading?”
“I’m a drop-in youth worker volunteer at the Howard Brown Health Center,” she picked up a tea mug that looked huge between her small hands. “Have you heard of it?”
“The organization that supports the LGBTQ community? I have. They’re very large.”
“So, I met this fifteen-year-old kid and I promised him I would help him improve his reading and math skills,” she continued. “I’m trying to find some good books for people with
low literacy and I need to refresh my memory of eighth grade math.”
As Julian removed his jacket, he placed his gloves and scarf on the table.
“I guess I should mention I failed eighth grade math,” she added.
He grinned, appreciating how her face lit up when she smiled. “I’m sure you’ll do well. Both of you can commiserate over your math woes.”
They casually chatted for a while. Julian became aware that, beyond the piece of information about her volunteer work, she was hesitant to share details about herself. After some gentle and strategic probing, all he was able to find out was that she worked at a bookstore in the Logan Square area, Bucket O’ Blood. On the other hand, she was visibly curious about him and enthusiastically asked as many questions as he thought possible. She had a youthful, easygoing quality to her and he felt relaxed in her presence.
She was wearing a thick sweater that hid all of the subtle, feminine curves he had seen at the club. The memory of her small, well-shaped breasts was now all too vivid. His eyes lingered on her neck, the only area of her body besides her face that wasn’t engulfed in oversized clothing, and he felt himself react to it. She had an erotic neck.
“Well, we’ve established you’re a geek,” Julian said in a friendly tone, after listening to her explain why Dune was her favorite book series.
Alana chuckled, sipping her tea. She looked at him over the brim of her mug. “I have been told that before, Julian.”
There was something in the way she pronounced his name that made all the hairs on his body stand up. It felt like she had opened up the door to a place deep within him. It simultaneously frightened and calmed him. In that moment Julian knew he wanted her.
The coffee shop had emptied out considerably. There were only two other people sitting by the window, busy working on their laptops, and the woman behind the counter, entertained by her phone.
Alana looked at his hands and when she lifted her eyes to him, he saw she desired him as well.
“You’re blushing.”
She licked her lower lip. “I guess I have been caught.”
He heard the subtle hint of mischief in her voice and that encouraged him. “What shall we do about it?” he added, not hiding his intent.
She gave him an elusive smile. Julian noticed the small speckles of yellow in her brown eyes and he was amazed at how she was gradually transforming right in front of him. At first she came across as a pretty young woman, not much different from the average female one would see walk down the street. But then there were those slight details about her that, once noticed, made her enthralling—her eyes, the elegant curve of her neck, how her smile enhanced her high cheekbones.
Getting up, Alana excused herself and walked toward the stairs that would take her to the bathrooms below. Before she made her way down, she stopped and locked eyes with him. Julian took that as an invitation.
He waited a few minutes and then followed her down the stairs. He found Alana standing in the small hallway. Without hesitation he closed the space between them and, as he backed her into the bathroom furthest away from the stairs, slammed the door shut behind them. His hungry lips found hers and he pushed his tongue into her mouth. Tasting the peppermint tea on her tongue, Julian couldn’t stop himself from moaning. As he pressed Alana’s back against the door he felt her holding onto the front of his dress shirt, her lips just as demanding as his. They were kissing each other savagely. Breathing hard, making blatant sounds of carnal desire, they were fueling each other’s lust with abandon. The refreshing taste of her mouth together with the feeling of her slight body pressed tightly against his, led Julian to think she was almost unearthly, about to vanish from his grasp. That only deepened his desire for her.
He pulled her heavy winter sweater over her head and the warm feeling of Alana’s soft skin against his palms made him kiss her with renewed urgency. As he undid her bra and his hands found her breasts, her sounds of pleasure intensified. Her hair had come loose, falling over her shoulders, down her back. Julian wildly ran his hands through it, getting a small whimper out of her. He couldn’t resist the urge to close his fingers on the long strands.
“I want your mouth on my cock,” he said, breaking the kiss.
Alana nodded in response and in one fluid movement she sunk to her knees. Unzipping his slacks, he released his erection. When he felt her soft lips, her wet tongue moving in circles, his legs bent slightly with the wave of sexual hunger that overcame him. For several long minutes he didn’t move, allowing it to build.
“Look at me.”
Alana’s eyes shot up and he saw in them the need to please.
“Deeper, take me deeper.” He slid further into her mouth. “Relax your throat.”
She did what he said and the tension slowly left her body.
“That’s it,” he whispered. “That’s it.”
Holding her head, Julian forcefully pushed forward. Then he felt it, the rush of lodging himself deep within Alana’s throat. He groaned, aware he had to pull back so she could breathe. Lost in the power play taking place between them, Julian tried to hold on to that unique sensation for as long as he could.
As he moved, Julian felt Alana take a series of frantic, deep breaths. Not wasting time, she took him back inside her very wet mouth.
“Oh fuck.” He closed his eyes, his whole body shaking. “I need to come.”
Julian closed his fingers on her nape, and as he thrust he felt the back of her throat open up again. Her hands reached for him, closing on his straining thighs.
“I got you, Alana. I got you,” Julian said, glancing down at her. Their eyes met briefly.
Her body surrendered to him and he was now almost squatting over her. With his mouth open in a silent cry, her face now flush with his body, he was able to slide in deeper. Soon his release was overtaking him and Julian held on to the back of her head as his body convulsed. He was coming straight down her throat. The feeling was overwhelming. For a few seconds, everything outside of him faded into emptiness.
With his orgasm still washing over him, Julian took a step back. Sliding down the door, he met Alana on the floor. With red, bruised lips, mascara smudged around her eyes, and matted hair, she watched him as he tried to steady himself. He could swear his heart was trying to rip through his chest. Julian caressed her hair and as he brought her face close to his, he noticed the scar on her shoulder.
Forgetting they were on the dirty, cold bathroom floor of a small coffee shop on North Wells Street, Julian kissed Alana’s scar.
Chapter 9
“I’m trying to remember here, but I think, you know, innocent-looking.”
“Wait,” Meredith said, scrunching up her nose. “Was she underage?”
She was at Carol’s Pub, a dive bar in Wrigleyville, pounding back beers with homicide detective Luke Colton. She could handle her alcohol but, if she wasn’t careful, she would pass out before getting what she came for.
“Not underage, dummy.” He laughed, finishing his beer. “But like a schoolgirl, you know what I mean? It was hard to tell ’cause she was naked on the bed but that’s what I thought when I first saw her. It was a fucking waste of our time, though. Even before we heard back from the coroner I knew she had just OD’ed. Don’t get why your stepmom was so obsessed.”
Meredith was laughing too but in her head she was thinking that Pam had been right. Colton was an idiot.
“Was the girl beautiful?” She leaned toward the table. Her low-cut top barely covered her breasts.
“I don’t like blondes. I prefer brunettes, just like you,” Colton openly stared at her cleavage. “And your curves.”
His eyes were glossy, a sign that he was tipsy and, holding the back of her neck, he pulled her to him. Meredith didn’t stop him. Colton was a good kisser and they kissed until her jaw started to hurt. She was ready to call it a night; she had learned everything she wanted to know about the dead woman. There wasn’t much more she needed to get out of that man’s brain.
&
nbsp; “You smell nice,” she said, licking the side of his neck. “Do you think I smell nice?”
“You smell fucking amazing.”
He was looking at her like he wanted to devour her and that made Meredith chuckle. A part of her felt superior to him. Another part of her felt filthy just by being there with him. That aroused her.
“My stepmom kept going on and on about how good that girl’s hair smelled. I know she’s dead but the thought of her smelling that fucking good and you were there is making me jealous.” The words coming out of her mouth were so ridiculous she wanted to bang her head on the bar countertop.
“Babe, you’re unbelievably hot. That dead skinny bitch has nothing on you. I still can’t believe I’m here making out with you.”
“Neither can I,” she said, burying her face in his chest.
“When I think about it she just smelled like she had been fucked, you know? It was a man smell. You, on the other hand, smell like a woman begging to be fucked.”
“Do you want to fuck me?”
“Do you even need to ask? When you agreed to meet for drinks I almost came in my pants.”
Meredith wrapped her arms around his waist. When she had stopped at the station it had been easy to find out what detective Colton looked like. While being careful not to run into Pam, all Meredith had to do was say she was detective Pam Sung’s stepdaughter and that she was looking for Colton. The officer had pointed to a young man who, in that moment, was walking out of the station. Meredith had followed him to the coffee shop across the street and waited for a good moment to approach him.
“Do you want to get out of here?” she whispered by his ear.
Soon they were inside of his dark car, which was parked on a side street by Carol’s Pub.
“My place?” Colton asked, sitting behind the wheel.
She had to decide. By the time they would get to wherever it was he lived, she would have long stopped wanting to be touched by him. “No. Fuck me in the back.”