Alone At Last Read online

  Alone At Last

  By

  Destiny Wallace

  To my husband,

  my biggest crush.

  To K.D. and Elliot,

  my inspiration and friends; it’s nice to bring together such beautiful people, even if it’s only in my imagination.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Alone at Last by Destiny Wallace

  Red Rose™ Publishing

  Publishing with a touch of Class! ™

  The symbol of the Red Rose and Red Rose is a trademark of Red Rose™ Publishing

  Red Rose™ Publishing

  Copyright© 2009 Destiny Wallace

  ISBN: 978-1-60435-600-7

  Cover Artist: Shirley Burnett

  Editor: Lara Parker

  Line Editor: Melissa Glisan

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Due to copyright laws you cannot trade, sell or give any ebooks away.

  This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people, or events are coincidental, and if not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

  Red Rose™ Publishing

  www.redrosepublishing.com

  Forestport, NY 13338

  Thank you for purchasing a book from Red Rose™ Publishing where publishing

  comes with a touch of Class!

  Alone At Last

  By

  Destiny Wallace

  Chapter One

  Hope pressed her face into the pillow as James drew a dusky pink nipple into his mouth. His tongue laved her sensitive flesh; a gruff moan vibrated from his throat and right down to her clit.

  “Please,” she breathed.

  His chocolate brown eyes met hers as he smiled around his mouthful. He released the bud with an audible pop. “Please what, Hope? Tell me what you want.” His voice was so deep it reverberated through her, making her shiver.

  Her mouth was dry, all the moisture in her body seemed to be headed in one direction; toward the throbbing mound pressed against his muscular thigh. When she didn’t speak, he moved his knee farther up on the bed, making her whimper from the added pressure. “Say it.”

  Her head swam with need. Why was he torturing her? He had to know after all these years! She slipped her fingers through his dirty blonde hair as he pressed his lips to the column of her neck. His hands slipped over her heated flesh, grazing her stomach. “Say it, Hope.”

  “James, please.”

  “Hope.”

  She couldn’t take it…they were so close to finally, finally being together. “Fuck me,” she whispered.

  “Hope,” he repeated.

  “Fuck me, James. Make me cum!”

  “Oh. My. God.”

  Hope came awake with a start. She wasn’t alone in her room, but James wasn’t the one with her.

  “Hope Danielle Brewer!” Valerie exclaimed.

  “God, Val, what the hell are you doing in my room?”

  Val flipped on the light, making Hope shield her eyes against the sudden brightness. “All that moaning woke me up. I thought you were having a nightmare!”

  “Well, I wasn’t.” She fell back onto her pillow, just to shoot back up. It was cold, from her sweat.

  “I can tell,” Val said crossing her slender arms. “It’s not so much the fact that you were begging to be fucked in your sleep. I mean, it’s been forever since you’ve gotten anywhere close to laid. What’s disturbing is the fact that you were screaming my brother’s name.”

  Hope’s eyes went round.

  “Uh-huh,” Val said sitting at the foot of her best friend and roommate’s bed. “Unless you know a James that I don’t.”

  “There are millions of guys named James,” Hope offered.

  Val’s hazel eyes sparkled as a grin spread across her slender face. “Do you want all of them to make you cum?”

  “Get the hell out,” Hope groused, flipping over her damp pillow.

  “Why don’t you just say something to him?” asked Val, ignoring Hope’s snark. “You’ve known him for ten years already. You’re both single for once. The thought of my best friend and big brother dating doesn’t make me want to vomit—that much.”

  Hope ran her hands over her thick black tresses partly to tame her bed head, and partly to stop her hands from shaking. She couldn’t push the dream away. Even wide awake, with the light on, she could feel his breath on her skin, his hands caressing her body, and his tongue tasting her. It took everything in her not to moan with Val sitting there looking at her expectantly. Waiting for the answer she always gave when they discussed her unhealthy infatuation with James Parker Murdock.

  “James isn’t interested in me,” Hope sighed. “Like you said, it’s been ten years and he still hasn’t noticed me.”

  Val rolled her eyes when Hope put up that familiar wall. It was an invisible force that would take her usual bubbly charm and replace it with a reserved, guarded manner. Hope was beautiful but didn’t seem to know it. Her hair was long, thick, and ink black. The large curls framed her face; her cheeks were still flushed, putting a pink tint to her usual olive complexion. Her huge whiskey brown eyes, framed with long, dark lashes watched her hands clasped in her lap. Her lips were full and always red, which made her look like she’d just been kissed…all day, every day.

  “Look, can we talk about this in the morning?” Hope asked settling against her pillow again.

  “Sure,” Val said, “wake me up once again with your moaning and screaming then dismiss me. I’m just trying to help you out!”

  “I’m sorry I woke you,” Hope grumbled.

  “I keep telling you to invest in a good vibrator,” said Val as she flipped off the light.

  “I don’t need a vibrator!” Hope called as Val pulled the door shut. “Just your brother on a desert island,” she muttered into the darkness.

  Her infatuation had begun ten long years ago. She and Val had met in sixth grade, they’d become fast friends and spent as much time as humanly possible together. They had so much in common, for example, they were born under the same zodiac sign, and both had absentee fathers, not to mention both being raised by single mothers who’d been more interested in turning a boyfriend into a husband than their kids. As long as they brought home good grades, everything was just fine. Never mind the fact that their daughters were growing up practically on their own.

  It wasn’t until three years later when James began dropping Val off at school that she met her friend’s brother. He was five years older than them. Val had begged him to be her ride in the mornings because she didn’t want to spend high school being bussed like some little kid. He only agreed because the school was on his way to his college campus. He stayed at home to cut housing costs but tried his best to stay out of his family’s drama.

  Hope lived a couple streets over from South Side High so she walked. On some mornings, James would drop Val off at her house instead of school so they could walk together. At fifteen years old, Hope had thought James Parker Murdock was the definition of fine. He was tall, with dark blonde hair that fell in his rich brown eyes, high cheekbones, a perfectly squared jaw, and a general air of indifference. He hardly ever spoke to her in those days, but when he did, his deep voice sent a shiver up and down her spine that made her toes curl e
very single time.

  By the time the girls graduated from South Side High and moved on to Adams College, he was in medical school, well on his way to becoming a pediatrician. He’d joined a frat and would get them into the best parties, mixers, and even sponsored them when they decided to join the sister sorority. That was around the time that Hope decided all was lost when it came to James. She was dating regularly and realized that she wasn’t attracted to white guys. Every guy she dated was African American. She was propositioned by plenty of white guys but she turned them down cold. There was nothing there for her.

  Her longest relationship was with one of James’ frat brothers, Tyshaun…it was only eight months, but she’d had real hopes for their future. As happens to most young couples, they realized they didn’t really love each other…at least not in the forever sense. They parted as friends but after the breakup she realized that she had been satisfied with Tyshaun but not necessarily happy. It was around that time that James finished med school and began his residency.

  She and Val were renting an apartment close to campus, which also happened to be in relative proximity to Hillsdale Medical Center. It was common for Hope to get home from class and find James passed out on their couch after a twenty-four hour shift. Sometimes, he’d stay for dinner and the three of them would talk. The best times, though, were when Val had to go in to work early and it would just be the two of them having dinner.

  Turned out, James was funny, charming, and she loved to hear him discuss interesting cases. She could tell he really liked being a doctor; blood, guts, puss, and all. He’d sit at the tiny kitchen table, eating whatever she’d made as if it were the best thing he’d ever tasted. His hair would be unruly from his nap, his eyes were tinged with red, and he had some serious bags under them. To her, he never looked better than in those moments when it was just the two of them.

  The next morning, Hope woke up late. She hurried through a shower, moisturized and dressed in a stiff white shirt and charcoal gray pencil skirt. She was pulling on her black heels as she hurried into the kitchen.

  Val gave her a sideways glance as she sat at their small table sipping coffee.

  “Oh, thank you so much for making coffee!” Hope said grabbing the pot and pouring it into her travel mug.

  “Since when does anyone else here make coffee on a weekday?” Val asked crossing her legs and fixing her friend with a withering look.

  Hope glared at her. She knew for a fact that Val had been up since six, gone for a run, did thirty minutes of either yoga or Pilates, eaten some sort of organic cereal that tasted no different than the box it came in, and made coffee to drink as she read the paper. “I am not a morning person. Besides, I always make dinner.”

  Val shrugged. “I know. I don’t care about making coffee; however, I did notice that you overslept even though we were supposed to talk about you calling out my brother’s name during your wet dream last night.”

  “I don’t have time for this,” Hope sighed as she pulled open the freezer. She didn’t look at Val while she put a Toaster Strudel in the toaster.

  “Of course you don’t,” Val groaned letting her head fall backwards. Her long sandy blonde hair hung behind the chair. “You’re such a fucking punk.”

  Hope didn’t answer; she just willed the toaster to pop out her breakfast already.

  Val exhaled noisily. “This can’t be healthy,” she said in a softer voice. “You know that, you’re a social worker. Doesn’t this qualify as an obsession?”

  Hope grabbed the pastry from the toaster when it finished. She wrapped it in a paper towel, grabbed her coffee, and headed for the door.

  “Keys and purse,” Val called.

  She did a U-turn and grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter. She’d fish her keys out of it on the way to the car.

  “Hope, are you going to talk to me, or not?”

  Hope scoffed but stopped her trek to the door. “I know I’m obsessed, okay…but I’m in love with him. I can’t help it. If I could turn it off, I would. Someday I’ll meet a guy that’s even better than James and then I’ll get over it.”

  Val sighed as she stood up from the table. She hugged her best friend and stepped back to look into her eyes. “Don’t forget about getting off work early today. We’ve got to leave for the cabin by four if we want to make it there before it gets too late.”

  Hope nodded. “I’m taking a half day. I’ll meet you back here at one.” She was definitely looking forward to their latest vacation. They’d rented a cabin in the Catskills just in time to watch the leaves change.

  Hope loved her job. She was a hospital social worker. She worked with expectant parents and parents with young children. She taught classes that piggy-backed Lamaze. The main focus was educating parents on the world of stress they were about to enter.

  Her favorite class was Daddy Cares. She taught expectant fathers how to properly hold and comfort an infant, how to change diapers, and special ways to bond with their babies. It was easier for mothers to bond; after all, they carried the baby for nine months and took care of the baby the most in the first months. Little things like going to get the baby when it cried in the middle of the night and carrying it to bed to a breast feeding mom…or heating the bottle correctly. She loved to see the young families just starting out. There was also something special about older first-time parents. They were so excited, and at times especially grateful for the blessing they were about to receive.

  That morning she had to attend a meeting in the Pediatrics ward first thing. She hated being late to meetings. She’d have to speed to make it on time; hopefully she wouldn’t get a ticket this time. She also needed to clean and disinfect the toy babies she used for her classes. She was going to be away for a week and she hated coming back to dirty babies. She always used Fridays to clean her visual aids because her first class was Monday morning at nine-thirty.

  There was a message on her phone after the meeting. She walked into her office for the first time that day to be greeted by the flashing red light on her phone.

  This better not be Val with bad news!

  Hope picked up the receiver and entered her pass code.

  “Hey, ma,” Val’s message began, “I just got a call from one of my best clients. She wants a session late this afternoon. She’s a huge tipper and totally connected so it would be career suicide to turn her down. Anyway, I’m not getting off early and I won’t be able to drive us to the cabin today.”

  Hope sighed.

  “Okay, okay,” Val continued, “I know what you’re thinking and don’t panic. I called James and he’s going to pick you up around two. I’ll talk to you later! Bye.”

  Hope felt her chest contract. She slammed the phone back into the cradle and gasped to catch her breath. Her lungs stubbornly refused to expand. She was going to drive three hours to the Catskills with James. Three hours in a vehicle; with him close enough to touch, wrapped in his scent, making dim-witted small talk. “Oh no,” she groaned.

  Hope snatched the receiver up again and dialed Val’s phone number. Her cell went straight to voicemail. With a huff of disgust, she tried her at work. She was informed that Val was in session and could not be interrupted. Hope left a message with the receptionist instructing Val to call her upon threat of death or dismemberment.

  Hope stood from her desk and walked across the office to her storage cabinet. She pulled the tube of Clorox Wipes from the top shelf and noticed it was shaking. No, it was her hand shaking.

  A couple deep breaths, and a few muttered curses and her hands were relatively still. She picked up an armload of plastic babies and piled them on her desk. After thoroughly cleaning two dolls, her hands were shaking violently again.

  “Stop it,” she hissed, “don’t be so immature. He’s just a guy; stop sweating and trembling and thinking about him.” The pep talk didn’t work. Her brain just couldn’t switch off.

  She pictured James the last time she’d seen him. They were at his house, a nice two-bedroom to
wnhouse just south of the park. He was having a Labor Day barbecue, and in a yard full of single doctors and his former college buddies, Hope found herself fantasizing about her and James throwing that party together. She pictured him giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before turning back to the steaks on the Weber. She saw herself stirring the pitcher of lemonade or filling the watermelon with chilled vodka. She imagined standing in the doorway with him at the end of the night waving goodbye, before they went upstairs to bed.

  The image of James shirtless in his backyard, holding a bottle of beer and laughing with his friends was knocked out of her head by the ringing phone. Startled, she dropped the doll she was holding. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered picking up the plastic baby before she answered the phone.

  “Okay,” Val started before Hope could offer a proper greeting, “What is with this message? You’re going to lob off my left arm with a rusty battle axe and mount it above our fireplace if I don’t call you back? Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”

  “No.”

  “You do remember that I’m a masseuse, I kind of need both my arms.”

  Hope rolled her eyes. “Your ass called back, didn’t you? Now, stop trying to change the subject. What the hell is this about me riding with your brother?”

  Hope didn’t appreciate the giggle on the other end of the line. “I thought I explained it pretty well in my message.”

  “Could you not be a smart-ass for five seconds, Valerie? How the hell am I supposed to ride up to the Catskills with James?”

  Val groaned. “You’re just going to have to put on your big girl panties and deal with it.”

  “You know what?!” snapped Hope, “I don’t have to put on any of my big girl garments. I can drive myself.”

  “Oh, hon,” Val sighed, “You know I love you like cooked food, but you have no sense of direction, and you drive like somebody’s grandma. Well, not my grandma. My grandma could lap any of those NASCAR drivers on their best day! Point is; you’d make it to the cabin just in time to turn around and drive home.”