Donna Hill - Long Distance Lover

Leigh was stretched out on the bed, completely naked—the sheet tossed to the floor. The stream of light from the moon cast a halo of sorts around her body making her look like a dream. Her knees were bent. Her thighs spread wide. Her hands stroked herself.

“I’m not quite finished,” she said in a voice that drifted through the dimness and licked his warm flesh.

Alex grinned. Leigh was insatiable and he loved to oblige her craving.

“I would come and get you but walking is difficult to say the least, especially after a session with you.”

Alex crushed out his cigarette and joined her on the bed. He caressed her right breast.

“It’s been six months, Hutch.” She stroked his thigh, moving higher until she held his hardening penis in her hand. She caressed it the way she knew he liked, flicking her finger across the head and relished the sound of his quick intake of breath. “I can’t stand this anymore,” she murmured in a husky whisper and for an instant Alex wasn’t sure if she meant waiting for session two or something else. “I want to be the woman I was,” she was saying, pulling him back to reality. “I want to be able to walk like normal.”

“Leigh…” This was the moment he’d been dreading. “I…”

She sat up, dropping the contents in her hand as if stung. “What is it?”

“There’s nothing else that can be done.”

She laughed but it sounded ill. “Nothing to be done! What the fuck are you talking about?”

“We’ve done everything we could.”

“You’re telling me that I’m going to go through the rest of my life as a gimp in a brace, popping pain pills?” Her voice escalated in incredulity with every word. Her amber eyes flashed with anger and disbelief.

“I’ve done all I can, Leigh. You know that.”

“You promised me I would be fine, that I would walk again!”

“Leigh…” He reached for her and she smacked his hand away.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me! You promised me I would walk again.”

Her chest heaved in and out and even in the dimness of the room he could see the sparkle of tears hanging on her cheeks.

“You are a strong, beautiful woman. You will get through this.”

“What am I supposed to do with the rest of my life, Hutch? Tell me that. Tell me, you bastard!” She picked up a pillow from behind her and threw it at him. “Modeling, that’s me. It’s what I do. When was the last time you saw a model strut down a runway with a leg brace and crutches?”

She wept openly, screaming out her fury at the injustice of it all and the rage she felt toward Alex.

“You promised me,” she said from deep in her throat. She swiped at her face with the back of her hand. “And you lied.”

“Leigh…”

“Get out! Get out!”

He snatched up his pants and boxers from the floor where he’d tossed them earlier and gabbed his T-shirt from the back of the chair.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you as soon as I knew,” he said as he got dressed. “But I still had hope. I thought I could fix everything.”

She looked up at him through eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want to ever see you again. Ever.”

“Are you sure this is what you want, Leigh?”

“It is.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts and looked away as Alex walked out.

The next time he saw Leigh was three weeks later. Her face made the front page of the Daily News. “Supermodel Found Dead—Suicide.”

At times, some of the strangest times, he would see her face on that last night and when he least expected it, the weight of guilt would nearly cripple him and he’d spend days locked in his one-bedroom apartment trying to drink away the memories.

After Leigh’s death he’d gone to the chief resident Bert Logan, who was more like a father than a boss, and submitted his resignation. It was immediately rejected. Between Bert and Ruby, they’d eventually talked him out of it.

That was five years ago. For the most part, he’d put it behind him, slowed down on blaming himself and worked every day at regaining his confidence—and he had—until today.

He hopped down off the exam table, tucked Kelly Maxwell’s chart beneath his arm and walked out.

Until today.

Chapter 12

David slid his plastic card through the slit, opening the door to the suite. He stepped aside to let Kelly pass.

For the entire twenty-minute ride back from the hospital, he’d been in a state of contained fury. But glass partition or not, he wasn’t going to spew his raw feelings all over the back of the limo.

The moment Kelly heard the door close behind her she turned on David. “You want to tell me what the hell is bugging you? You looked like you were sitting on a tack for the whole ride.” She rested her crutches against the edge of the couch and slowly sat down holding on to the arms of the couch for support.

David pulled off his chocolate-colored suede jacket and tossed it onto the empty love seat. He paced in front of her. “I don’t like him,” he finally spat out.

“Who?” she asked already knowing the answer.

“Hutchinson, that’s who. He’s an arrogant sonofabitch, and I don’t like him.”

Kelly pressed her lips together forcing herself to think first before she shot out how stupid David sounded. She gingerly folded her hands in her lap.

“Really. You were the one who ‘highly’ recommended him. Said he was the best.”

“I know what I said,” he snapped. He walked over to the wet bar, went behind the counter and fixed himself a quick rum and coke, no ice. He took a long swallow before responding. “I’m having second thoughts. I think we need to find someone else.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. It’s a little late in the game, don’t you think? We’ve packed up, left Atlanta, come all the way to big bad New York City and because you ‘don’t like him’ you want to find someone else. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?”

He clenched his teeth before finishing off his drink then walked toward her. He knelt down and placed his hands on her knees.

“Listen, you know I only want the best for you. I have a bad feeling about him.”

“I don’t.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a woman.”

Her brows shot up. “Meaning?”

“Meaning I can see through him.”

“David, you’re not making any sense.”

He pushed up and stood. “We’re going back to Atlanta.”

“No. We’re not.”

He looked down at her, saw the same determination in her eyes that she had on the track moments before a big race. “I know what’s best for you.”

“And I don’t? David, I’m not sixteen anymore. I’m a grown woman. I’m capable of making my own decisions—if you’d ever let me,” she added and didn’t flinch when he took a step toward her. “I’m staying.”

David heaved a sigh. His features hardened.

“You said he was the best. We’ll never know if we leave. I want to run again and I believe he can make that happen.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. She was right. There was no question about Hutchinson’s credentials. He had to put his personal dislikes aside for Kelly’s sake.

“Fine,” he conceded on a long breath. “If this is what you want.” His stern expression softened and the hint of a smile curved his mouth. “You know I can’t deny you anything.” He reached over and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her right ear.

“Thank you. I will be fine. I feel it.”

“We’ll give it a shot.” He walked to the love seat and picked up his jacket, draped it over the bend of his arm. “Can I get you anything? I’m going to order room service.”

“No. Thanks.”

He gave her an incredulous look. “You haven’t eaten all day. You should be starved by now.”