Sweet Southern Nights

by Rochelle Alers

  Angela closed her eyes for several seconds. “That’s not going to happen.”

  He reversed their position again, and began a slow dance of desire. Flesh to flesh, heart to heart. They became one with each other. He was a master cartographer, exploring and mapping the dips and curves of her lush, compact body. It was his turn to gasp and lose his breath when Angela grasped his penis and fondled him until he felt as if he was going to explode.

  “No, baby, no!” Taking her hand, Levi parted her legs with his knee and guided his sex into her tight warmth. It took only a few seconds, though it felt like more, for Levi to embed himself completely inside her.

  Perfect. The single word summed up everything about the woman he clutched tightly to his body. They were a perfect fit. Levi had known many women, but none of them had affected him like Angela Chase.

  Levi and Angela’s bodies moved in harmony as she arched to meet his deep thrusts. The scent of their lovemaking became an aphrodisiac, enveloping them in an intimate cocoon from which neither wanted to escape.

  Angela felt herself falling, faster and faster. Her descent was into a world of sensual pleasure she’d hadn’t known. Just when she felt the fluttering that made her realize she was going to climax, Levi slowed his rhythm to bring her back from the precipice. His hands were just as busy as his mouth, touching, kissing and caressing.

  Writhing beneath him, her entire body felt heavy, swollen. Then it happened. A wave of ecstasy washed over her, buffeting, shaking and tearing her asunder. Without warning, she started to soar higher and higher until she floated back down to earth.

  The first orgasms came, holding her captive, then another—this one stronger and longer than the previous one. Levi’s hands cupped her hips, lifting her off the bed when the third one hit her. He felt his body coming with her. His growl of release collided with her moans in a moment of uncontrolled passion.

  Levi rolled over, bringing Angela with him. He wasn’t ready to withdraw from her because he enjoyed the way it felt when their bodies were joined. He trailed tender kisses along her forehead, the bridge of her nose and then her mouth, savoring the pulsing feel in his groin and the sense of completeness that rendered him speechless.

  “Did I hurt you?” he asked, tucking the curve of her body into the hard contours of his. Angela mumbled incoherently. “Was that a yes or a no?”

  “No, sweetie. You didn’t hurt me.”

  “I want…”

  “Please don’t talk, Levi,” she said.

  Pushing hair off her damp forehead, he kissed her again and pulled out. Slipping off the bed, he walked to the bathroom to discard the condom. Angela was sound asleep, snoring lightly when he returned. He turned off the lamp, slipped into bed, pressing his groin to her buttocks. Minutes later he joined her in the sleep reserved for sated lovers.

  Angela awoke to find herself alone in bed. The imprint of Levi’s head on the pillow next to her was a reminder of what had happened. Smiling, she stretched her arms over her head. A slight tightness in her groin was a reminder of what she’d shared with her lover.

  Lover. She found it easier to think of Levi as her lover rather than anything more. Lovers came and went, while partners were more committed to a relationship than she and Levi were. She slowly swung her legs over to the side of the bed, and gingerly walked out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.

  She spied the handwritten note taped to the mirror: Had to leave early. Scheduled to be at the hospital at six. Will call you later. Sweetie.

  Angela removed the sheet of paper, rolled it into a ball and dropped it in the wastebasket. Combing her fingers through her hair, she pulled it away from her face. If Levi didn’t call her, she wouldn’t hold it against him.

  She completed her morning ablutions and went down to take care of Miss Divine. The cat sprang out of the laundry room as if she’d been shot out of a cannon. Angela knew her cat was upset because she’d been locked in overnight. “Sorry about that girl.”

  She went still when she heard tapping on the windows. It was raining. The forecast was for rain on Sunday, and it was expected to last for several days. She hoped it would end in time for the Friday running of the Kentucky Oaks.

  During Derby week, Angela went into the shop early to help Traci with the increased customer traffic from the tourists who descended on Louisville. The city always took on a festive atmosphere that culminated with “The Run for the Roses.” Some locals took offense when broadcasters described the atmosphere as being like New Orleans during Mardi Gras, since the festivities were much more dignified. Bourbon flowed like water and mint juleps were the cocktail of choice.

  Angela took care of Miss Divine, and then prepared breakfast for herself before the cleaning service arrived.

  Cloistered in her office Angela waited for the cleaning service to finish. Her usual routine was to get up early to write, but the sounds of the vacuum cleaner and the background noise of the cleaning staff was distracting. She booted up her PC and went online. There was an email from her editor.

  Good morning, Angela,

  I love, love, love your latest proposal. I’ve been looking for something special for years, but didn’t know what it was until I read this. It’s the perfect contemporary romance novel. Let me know how soon you can submit the manuscript. Hope to schedule it for early next spring. I’ll let your agent know.

  Instead of sending it electronically, I want you to bring it to New York. The publisher will cover all expenses.

  Best,

  MJ

  Angela stifled a scream. Miriam Jabin was a prickly old-school editor who eschewed telephone calls and face-to-face meetings and months ago had decided to communicate with her authors through email. Although Miriam had given up her pack-a-day cigarette habit, she still enjoyed her two-martini lunch.

  Angela tried to slow her beating heart and compose her thoughts. A minute later she sent an email to Miriam giving her a projected submission date. She was going to New York! If she timed it right, perhaps she would be able to attend the World Series with Levi.

  The telephone rang, and Angela picked it up on the first ring. “Hello.”

  “Good morning, love. How are you feeling?”

  Angela’s smile was dazzling. Levi had promised to call her back and he had. “I’m wonderful. How are you?”

  “Horny,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay for seconds.”

  Heat stung Angela’s cheeks when she recalled what they’d shared. “Levi.”

  “What is it, baby?”

  “I want to apologize for acting…”

  “Don’t you dare say it, Angela. The first time is always a little awkward. It will be different the next time.”

  “How different?”

  He chuckled. “It will be even better. I spent the morning filling out papers, being fingerprinted and photographed. I also have my schedule for the week. I’ll be working twelve-hour shifts for the next four days. I’m off Friday, Saturday and Sunday. I’d like you to spend the weekend with me.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “I’d love to spend the weekend with you.”

  “Do you think you can stay out of trouble until Friday?”

  “I’ll try, sweetie,” she crooned, her smile growing wider and wider.

  “I’d love to talk longer, but I have a meeting with the chief of staff. I’ll call you tonight.”

  “Call me when you can, Levi. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I won’t let you go anywhere,” Levi said.

  Angela didn’t have a comeback, and she didn’t want to read more into his words because perhaps she didn’t dare wish for her own happy ending.

  “Goodbye, Levi.”

  “Goodbye, love.”

  Angela stared at the phone long after she’d hung up. As Angelina Courtl
and the word love spoke volumes. But as Angela Chase she knew it was an endearment used loosely: I love your hair. I love that dress. I’d love to see a movie.

  Levi was real, while her characters were made up—figments of her imagination.

  “Who or what has you glowing?” Traci asked when Angela walked into the Garden Gate Tuesday morning.

  Angela executed a pirouette in a pair of black leather ballet flats. “My editor loves my latest proposal.” She took her smock off the wall hook, putting it over her white blouse and cropped black slacks. “She wants me to come to New York.”

  “When are you going?” Traci asked, excitedly.

  Picking up a plastic spray bottle filled with water, Angela spritzed the hanging plants. “As soon as I complete the manuscript.”

  “When do you think you’ll finish?”

  “Hopefully, before the end of the summer. I gave Miriam a September deadline, but I’m going to try for the end of August.”

  “What about Levi?”

  Turning slowly, Angela stared at her cousin. She didn’t know how Traci did it, but she always managed to look gorgeous whether in jeans or haute couture. She’d added an additional four inches to her impressive height with a pair of strappy booties. Although stunning, she was much too thin, thinner than she’d been when she’d worked as a runway model.

  “What about him, Traci?”

  “Aren’t you going to make time for him?”

  She went back to misting the plant leaves. Angela told Traci that Levi had agreed to assume the job as acting head of pediatrics at Clarke General for the next two months.

  “Won’t he have days off?”

  “Yes, but he’ll always be on call.”

  Traci waved her hand dismissively. “I’m certain he’ll find time for you.”

  Angela wasn’t ready to tell her cousin that they already had made time for each other. If he didn’t spend nights with her, then she would stay over with him. “We’ll work something out.”

  Traci picked up a set of coasters, gently wiping them with the duster. “Reggie and I had a heart-to-heart talk last night about reconciling—permanently.

  Momentarily speechless, Angela put down the bottle and walked over to her cousin. It had only been a few months that Traci and Reggie had been dating again. Angela put the duster down on a table, and then grasped Traci’s hands. Her fingers were ice cold.

  “Talk to me, cuz.”

  Traci closed her eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

  Angela felt her heart lurch. “Are you sure?”

  Traci chewed her lip. “Yes. I went to a doctor yesterday and he confirmed it.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to have it, of course!”

  “I’m not implying that you get an abortion, Traci. I should’ve said what are you and Reggie going to do?”

  “We’re going to get married—again. This time I know it’s going to work.”

  A slow smile spread its way across Angela’s face before it became a full-on grin. “Hot damn! I’m going to be an auntie.”

  “Technically, the baby will be your second cousin.”

  “Why are you messing with me, Traci? You know my brothers will never make me an aunt. So as my cousin slash sister, your baby will be my niece or nephew.” They jumped up and down like they used to as children. “When and where are you getting married?”

  “Next Sunday afternoon. The pastor at Reggie’s church will officiate. I want you to stand in as my witness, and if Levi’s off, then he can be Reggie’s witness. You’re the only one in the family who knows about the baby.”

  “Why doesn’t Reggie ask his brother?”

  “Because the man has diarrhea of the mouth. And if my mother caught wind of this she would want something akin to the royal wedding. I’m thirty years old, pregnant and because this will be my third marriage I’d have a complete breakdown.”

  Angela stared at Traci, completely baffled. “You’re eloping, right?” The question was more of a statement.

  “Yes.”

  She hoped her cousin was ready for the fallout when the word got out that she’d run off and married without telling the family. If Traci’s mother had taken to her bed the first time her daughter had married Reggie she shuddered to think what her reaction would be when she found out Traci and Reggie had remarried and were expecting a child.

  “I’m honored to be your witness, but Reggie will have to ask Levi about standing up for him.”

  Traci hugged Angela. “You’re the best.”

  A grandfather clock in a corner chimed the hour. It was nine o’clock. Angela unlocked and opened the wrought-iron gate, then unlocked the outer door. The Garden Gate was open for business.

  Chapter 13

  Levi glanced around the table, meeting the gazes of two residents and three interns. The routine of making rounds had changed since he’d worked at a hospital. Usually patients were present when doctors made their rounds and would answer questions. But the current practice of making grand rounds involved reviewing patient cases, care and progress without the patient being there.

  “Thank you doctors for being on time.” A chorus of acknowledgments followed his statement. “Today will be a little like speed dating, because I have a meeting with the chief of staff at eleven.” Levi opened a folder with updates from the pediatric patients’ files. He’d set up a system whereby the department secretary made available daily updates of each file for himself and his staff.

  “We’ll begin with William Crenshaw.” Levi saw movement out the corner of his eye. “Dr. Wagner, am I keeping you awake?” he asked when he noticed the woman nodding. When a medical student sitting next to the resident touched her shoulder she slumped over the table. Another resident sprang into action, easing Dr. Wagner to the floor.

  Levi took over, searching for a pulse, then a heartbeat. Her pulse was faint, heartbeat barely audible. “Call the ER and tell them we’re bringing her in!” He pinched the skin on the back of the tiny hand with visible pale blue veins. Dr. Gemma Wagner was severely dehydrated.

  Lifting the petite woman as easily as he would a small child, Levi raced out of the small conference room and down the hall to the emergency room. Several nurses in the ER stood ready to treat one of their own doctors. He placed her on a gurney, then stepped back, watching as a nurse worked quickly to hook up an IV. The nurse gasped after she’d removed Dr. Wagner’s white coat and pushed up the long sleeve of her tee. She pushed up the other one, and her jaw dropped in disbelief.

  The nurse’s eyes met Levi’s. “Dr. Eaton, I can’t.”

  He knew if they didn’t get fluids into her she was going to die. “Pulling on a pair of latex gloves, he tapped the back of the drug-addicted doctor’s hand with two fingers until he managed to find a vein. He inserted the needle, taping it in place, while the nurse placed an oxygen mask over Dr. Wagner’s nose. The machines monitoring her vitals beeped loudly over the eerie quiet.

  The attending ER doctor raced over. “What do you have?”

  Levi pointed to the tracks dotting the inside of the young woman’s arm. “She probably shot up just before rounds.”

  Dr. Morse shook his head. “What a waste. I can’t understand why she’d want to ruin her career this way.”

  “Perhaps you’re being a little premature, Dr. Morse. That’s something the hospital board will have to address.”

  The bearded, ponytailed doctor who was a throwback to the ’70s gave him an incredulous stare. “You’re going to go to bat for her?”

  Levi’s impassive expression did not change. “Why wouldn’t I support a member of my staff? I’m counting on you to take care of her.”

  Morse nodded. “She’s one of us, so I’ll make certain she gets the best possible
care. We’ll put her in the rehab unit and monitor her withdrawal.”

  Levi smiled for the first time. “Thank you. I’ll stop by and see her later.” Taking off the gloves, he dropped them in a receptacle. He’d temporarily lost what personnel records indicated was one of the most promising doctors in the pediatric unit. Her patients loved Dr. Wagner and she loved them. Levi knew it would be an uphill battle and it would take a minor miracle to convince the hospital’s chief of staff not to fire the resident on the spot.

  Levi returned to the conference room and was met with a barrage of questions from the other doctors. He reassured them that their colleague had been stabilized and that the prognosis for her recovery was good. Grand rounds continued, but Levi was distracted. He couldn’t stop thinking about Dr. Wagner.

  Levi stared at the pattern on the carpet in the waiting area outside Dr. Neil McGill’s office. His secretary had asked him to wait because her boss was on a long-distance call.

  “You can go in now, Dr. Eaton.”

  He smiled at the elderly woman. “Thank you, Mrs. Graham.”

  Neil McGill stood up when Levi entered the impressively decorated office. “Levi, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.” He motioned to a chair at a small round table. “Please sit down.”

  The office had a leather sofa and two oversize chairs and framed Impressionist reproductions. The lead crystal vase filled with flowers and Waterford paperweights were testament to the doctor’s stature in the highly regarded facility. Seeing the crystal reminded Levi of the exquisite pieces in the Garden Gate.

  Levi sat, his gaze fixed on a signed photograph of McGill with a former vice president. Levi crossed his leg as his gaze scanned the room settling on a reproduction of Georges Seurat’s A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte.

  “I heard about one of your doctors,” Neil McGill said, capturing Levi’s attention. His sharp penetrating gray eyes narrowed. “We’ve had doctors overdose before, but never while on duty in the hospital. We’re not going to be able to sweep this under the rug, so I’d like to know how you would handle this.”