Heart Doctor by Melissa Silvey

Author:Melissa Silvey [Silvey, Melissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2017-04-26T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

May 14, 2016

The elevator doors open to a pretty entryway which is about six feet long and leads toward an open door. The floor is a cream marble with copper colored veins, and the walls are the palest eggshell. Copper framed mirrors hang facing each other, over copper tables with marble tops. Two intricate, artistic spiral copper chandeliers hang overhead, about three feet apart. My heels click on the floor as I walk toward the door.

The lights are low inside the suite, and as I take a step over the threshold I see him, standing near a wet bar in front of floor to ceiling windows. The Washington monument is so close, it looks like it’s right outside his window. Although it’s late, the sweeping view of the city is gorgeous. Everything is lit up, the monument, the Capitol, and the Lincoln memorial.

And then there’s the most beautiful thing within my view, Alexander Astor. I stand and stare for several moments, because he’s shirtless. He’s wearing only the black trousers, with his right hand in his pocket, and his left hand holding a drink.

What am I doing here? Why I am I here?

I know why I’m here.

His words in my car are echoing in my head. I’m more than happy to fuck you. And I am just buzzed enough to want to find out if he will.

His back is broader, more muscular. His waist, somehow, seems slimmer. That’s not possible for a man approaching forty. There’s a shadow on his lower back, where skin meets fabric. His ass is as round and firm as it was when he played lacrosse, when he ran five miles and did a hundred squats a day. I wonder what he will look like naked. I want, more than I’ve ever wanted anything, to find out.

He turns, and I can see his beautiful profile, his long straight nose and perfect jaw. I am far more nervous now than I was downstairs. “Would you like a drink?”

I clear my throat before speaking. “No, thank you.”

“Come here, Liv,” he says, and reaches out his right hand to me. He doesn’t appear nervous. His voice is strong and sure. I take a few more steps toward him, and he finally looks back at me. I gasp, and stop. He doesn’t look angry. The corners of his full lips are almost smiling. “Come to me now.”

All the longing, all the sadness I’ve felt over the last fifteen years gathers in my chest, accompanied by an overwhelming ache. But that’s nothing, compared to the raw need I feel deep inside me. I want him, from the depths of my womanhood. I yearn for him. I have sex with random men to fill the void I created inside myself when I walked away from him, and no matter how much meaningless sex I have it is never enough.

I reach out my hand to touch his, and it’s like an electric shock on my skin. Our eyes meet, and I think he feels it too.

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