Page 75 of Adam & Eve
what love is, and you don’t either. You could keep me in this room for a million years, and all you’ll
ever get from me is sex and maybe my hate.” She nodded her head. “Yeah, I can see myself hating
you. Why wouldn’t I? You kidnapped me, took away my choices, and now you aim to drive me crazy
with your constant whining about us being together.”
She pulled out my heart in a few words then she pushed herself up straight using the chair
handles. She stormed back to the bed, laid down and pulled the covers over her head.
It was half an hour later, and I was numb. She was sleeping comfortably like she hadn’t
broken me with her little speech, as if I really didn’t matter to her.
You don’t. You know you mean nothing to her. I ignored the voice.
I was too occupied with my own thoughts to consider any of it. Emotionally and mentally
conflicted, I thought for the first time that maybe I shouldn’t have brought her here. Maybe none of it
was meant to be, like she’d said. Maybe none of this was real, although it felt real. In the grand
scheme of things, did it matter? What could I do? Keep her locked away until I bent her to my will?
“Adam,” Eve called out to me, drawing me out of my thoughts.
I didn’t know how long she’d been awake or how long I’d been staring into space, but it
seemed like hours. I was feeling unusually tired. I needed sleep.
“Adam,” she called again when I didn’t answer her right away.
She called my name so many times it turned into a chant, but I didn’t acknowledge her, not
once. It was safer to stay in my head, where she wasn’t constantly trying to ruin what we could have.
But in true Eve form, she persisted. Her voice became softer, seductive, pulling at the primal part of
me until I had no choice but to look at her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.
She pushed off the bed and slinked onto the floor. Naked, on her hands and knees she crawled
to me. It was the most sensual thing I’d ever witnessed. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She stopped in
front of me. Involuntarily my legs spread to accommodate her, giving her the space she needed. I was
angry at her and even angrier at myself, but that anger didn’t stop me from wanting her close. She laid
her head on my lap and pouted prettily up at me while massaging my thigh.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She didn’t answer, just kept touching me. It was all too much. I turned away and concentrated
on a spot on the white wall. It helped me ignore the feeling of her warm hand on my thigh.