Destroy (A Standalone Romance Novel)

by Adams, Claire

  “When did she talk to you?”

  “This morning, why?”

  “Because, she hasn’t said a word to me–and I mean that literally–for a week now. Since the bar incident, she’s completely shut me out.”

  “Do you blame her?”

  “I don’t know. She asked for it, didn’t she?”

  “No, Jeff, she didn’t. She asked you to be honest because you have not been honest with her for a long time. She had no idea we knew each other before I came to this hospital. She also told me how resentful you had been toward her.”

  “Me? How? I don’t resent her. I resent her actions, but not her. As you said, she was a mother—”

  “Yes, Jeff, you resented the fact that she was getting through her grieving a lot faster than you did, because she went to see a psychologist, didn’t she?”

  He bowed his head. “What do those guys know about losing a child?”

  “You’d be surprised. Besides, it’s not what they know about losing a child that counts, it’s what they can do for you and with you to surmount the effects such an ordeal has on you.”

  He smiled. “I told you; you should be a psychologist. I could listen to you all day. And I am sure that if we had known each other when Daniel died, I would have conquered my anger a lot sooner.”

  “Be that as it may, Jeff. But today is another day gone with the water under the bridge. You will never get it back. So, why don’t you do what I do?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Consider every day as the first day of the rest of your life. Go with it. Good or bad, let it carry you. Don’t try controlling everything around you. You’ll never win.”

  “What about now? Can I control now?”

  I had to smile. I knew what he would have like to do, and it wasn’t happening. “Not tonight, Josephine,” I told him. “You’ve got to go home and leave me to sleep. I have to get rid of this bug. And I promise you at the end of the week, we can go for that ice-cream, okay?”

  He nodded. “It would have to be, I suppose. But aren’t you going to tell me what else Elizabeth told you?”

  I shook my head. “No. That’s between the two of us. But I can tell you that I would bet my bottom penny that she’s waiting for you to get home tonight.”

  “Has she told you she would?”

  “No. And I didn’t ask either. Call it women’s intuition if you like.”

  That night I slept like the proverbial log. Jeff looked much appeased when he left. We both needed each other. I knew it and he knew it. But, we had now jumped over the most important hurdle. Elizabeth was leaving. She was divorcing him. It was up to Jeff and me to work it out. I knew I would demand that he go to a psychologist on a regular basis so that he wouldn’t carry the burden of guilt or resentment for much longer.

  By Thursday, things were back to normal at the center. Perhaps not quite “normal” but our new surgeon and department head had arrived. He was an older fellow with compassionate eyes. Apparently, he had earned his stripes working in South Africa with students, who later became professors in their own right, of Christian Barnard. Barnard opened the door to open-heart surgery, and therefore organ transplants. He had a South African accent, as one would expect, and added another impressive name to the list of surgeons in this hospital. I was really enthusiastic about working with him. He had a kind eye for me but when it came to surgical procedures, he was a demon in disguise in the theater. Ultimately, we only had to do a minor surgery on Sam Wilson’s eye. The repair was done in a manner of minutes while the patient was awake. Although no one needed my help, Dr. Leesburg (our new head) demanded that I attend the surgery.

  “You will attend every surgery with me, Dr. Williams. No question. You need the hours in the cockpit. That’s all there’s to it. And if I ask you to do something, you do it. Understood?”

  I felt like saluting and saying, “Yes, sir, of course, sir,” but I didn’t.

  By the next day, I was ready to go out with my new man–Dr. Jeff Aldridge. Elizabeth had managed to sit him down apparently and to tell him he was free as she handed him the divorce papers–signed. She told me that she had decided to travel to Paris and the French Riviera for the rest of the winter, and after that, she would take over a small practice in Maine. An old friend of the family was retiring and wanted her to take over.

  When I came through the doors of the hospital, I saw Jeff waiting for me across the street. We were walking home–to my apartment. Tiffany had decided it was about time for her to spend the weekend with her family. I knew she had arranged it so that Jeff and I would be alone for a couple of days.

  I was terribly happy to see him for once. I kissed him feverishly as soon as I nestled in his embrace.

  “God,” he said, “It’s so good to have you back.”

  I looked up at him and grinned. “How about we go somewhere fun?” I asked.

  “And where would that be?”

  “To my bedroom.”

  “That’s sounds perfect. I haven’t been there in such a long time, I’m sure I’d lose my way.”

  “Come on then!”

  When we got home, I noticed that Tiffany had left a casserole of spaghetti in the oven for us. I told you: She’d make the perfect wife to some guy someday.

  I couldn’t get out of my clothes fast enough and neither could Jeff. We were hungry for each other. As soon as we stepped into the shower together and he started to soap me down, I shivered from head to toe so anxious to have him I was. I returned the favor and soaped his body down while he squeezed my nipples and rubbed my breasts. As soon as I went down on my knees to suck his penis, he moaned. He had waited for me for so long, he was over excited. I knew it would take all of his strength to hold on. When I came up, he grabbed my clitoris and practically sent me to seventh heaven. I, too, could hardly wait for him to take me. He did so in the next few minutes. God, the thrill of his caresses, the teasing of my nipples, and the feel of his penis inside my vagina were all incredible. I was soon to have an orgasm as he ejaculated inside of me. I loved every second of it.

  We washed ourselves down and soon got out of the shower all excited again. He dried my body down and wiped my hair while I wrapped a towel around him. We went to bed and slipped under the cover in silence. There were no words to express how I felt–I was so happy.

  We fell asleep for a while but the moon pierced the curtains with its rays and woke me up. I stroked Jeff’s body softly until he too, woke up. He looked at me in the dark and smiled. When he kissed me, I was trembling with excitement. I wanted him again. I straddled him and bent down to return the kiss. His penis was erect and waiting already. I introduced it into my vagina while I moaned with renewed pleasure. He went to pull on my clitoris with one hand, and pinched one of my nipples with the other. There was no way I could resist such a treatment for long. I had a long and drawn out orgasm thanks to his sustained treatment. When I finally calmed down, he laid me down and turned me over. I soon pointed my butt to him so he could penetrate me again.

  I loved making love with this man. This was no longer just sex–it was love making.

  When the morning rays of sunshine invaded the room, I felt as good as I hadn’t done for a very long time. I got up without a sound and grabbed Jeff’s shirt from the chair. I put it on and tiptoed my way to the kitchen. The spaghetti would be for tonight, I thought. And this morning, I was all ready to cook a hardy man’s breakfast. I was famished. As I took the frying pan out of the drawer, Jeff came behind me and grabbed me around the waist.

  “Hey, lovely? What are you doing?” he asked, kissing my neck.

  “I am about to cook breakfast, and you?” I turned around.

  “Me? I am kissing the most beautiful woman on earth.” And he did again.

  “What do you say, we go skating after breakfast?”

  “I say that sounds like a fantastic idea.” He held me at arms’ length. “But before we do all that, I want to say something to you, Dr. Williams.”

  “Oh? A
nd what would that be, Dr. Aldridge?”

  “I love you with all my heart, Heather!”

  I had to swallow hard before I replied, “And I do love you, Jeff.”

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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 Claire Adams