Chapter Fourteen
“HOW DID YOU…?” Words fail me.
I ball my hands into fists, trying to coax my breaths to circulate so my stiff muscles can get the oxygen they need. It doesn’t work. I finally manage to stammer out the question.
“How did you find me?”
He steps close so we’re inches away from each other. His stiff mannerisms make it obvious he’s straining to retain control of his feelings. Though I’m not sure what emotion he’s favoring—anger, disappointment, concern… His question ends my speculation.
“That’s the first thing you want to say to me?”
As always, he’s overwhelming me, unsettling the fragile control I work hard to maintain.
I move past him and start heading toward my house, because I have no idea how to deal with this situation. What do I tell him? The circumstances of our liaison have me going bat-shit crazy and I needed to talk to my therapist? Nope, that’s not going to work.
I imagine people don’t normally give Adam Black their backs. It’s not that I want to be an exception to a rule, but I just don’t have the courage to face his knowing eyes.
“Where the hell are you going?”
Before I can respond his hand has already claimed my wrist. The bangles I always wear chime as he twists me to face him. His arrogant stance erodes my initial panic and moves me to anger.
“Why are you here? How did you find me?”
“Parker followed you at my request,” he says without any regret or shame.
“And you think that’s normal? That you had your lackey follow me?”
Adam raises his finger.
“First, he’s not a lackey but a highly trained security guard who has been working for me for years. He’s also a friend.”
He lifts a second finger.
“Second, if you’d told me where you were going, communicated with me, I wouldn’t have felt the need to have you followed.”
“Why do you care where I go? I’m just some random woman you’re fucking.” My anger prevents me from curbing my words.
Adam takes a step back, releasing his grip on my wrist.
“Evelyn, you’re not a stupid girl, but sometimes you say the stupidest things. Would a man who was merely fucking you drop what he was doing to wait outside a building for you?”
Maybe, if he was in the mood to fuck you again.
“What do you want from me?” The sting of my watering eyes blurs his image.
“I want you to get in the car.”
“Adam…” I say contritely, because I feel some remorse. He has the ability to make think everything I believe is wrong.
“Evelyn, get in the fucking car. Now.”
I gulp and make my way toward the Mercedes double-parked in front of the building. I grab hold of the door and pull, but it’s locked. Almost instantly, Adam is beside me, unlocking it. Then he opens it for me.
Wordlessly, I get in, jerking in surprise when he slams the door shut. He enters the car and in minutes we’re at my house. The drive was filled with deafening silence. Is this my punishment? Why won’t he say something?
I try again to reason with him, to perhaps apologize for my comment, but he raises his index finger to my lips, silencing me. Adam exits the car and walks to the passenger door, opening it for me. I take a deep breath and make my way to the front door. Mutely, I open it and turn on the lights in the living room. Adam follows me in and closes the door behind us.
“Sit,” he says as he points to the couch.
I want to argue with him, to yell and protest that this is my house and at least here he can’t tell me what to do. However, the expression in his eyes cautions me against the idea. I take a deep breath and sit as commanded. Adam sits in a chair opposite me. He looks at me as if he’s pondering a perplexing question.
“I want to know what you were doing in that building.”
I’m coming to the conclusion that Adam deplores not knowing every facet, every detail, about the people in his life. I take a deep breath and respond the only way I know how—with hesitation.
“And if I refuse to give you an answer?”
“You do have that choice. However, if you refuse to give me an answer I’m walking out that door and whatever we have going on between us ends.”
His face is impassive, as if the notion of terminating our association means nothing to him. I feel like I’m a deer cornered by a hunter. When I tell him I’m in therapy, when he realizes how messed up I am—he’s going to leave me. We already established he’s going to leave you anyway. At this point it’s only a question of when. I blink once to focus.
“I matter that little to you?” I whisper.
He straightens in his seat, and I get the impression my question makes him uncomfortable.
“The truth matters that much to me. I don’t do business with people who lie to me or keep secrets from me, and the same rule applies to women I date. It applies to everything I do, a guiding principle I follow stringently. Do you understand?”
“I’m not lying to you.”
“You’re also not telling me the truth.”
“Adam, no matter how hard you try, the world will shock you and so will the people in your life. You can’t control everything,” I say with sincerity, because my experiences have proven them to be an undeniable truth.
“What were you doing tonight?” he says, disregarding my statement.
I shift in my seat as the anxiety of the situation makes my stomach churn.
“The way you talk to me is so cold and reserved.” I rub my fingers against my temple because I’m trying to hold back tears. “Do you even care about me?”
“You’re trying to change the subject.” He leans forward, his forearms resting against his thighs. His gaze captures mine and sincerity shines in his eyes. “Of course I care. Your insecurities are clouding your judgment if you can’t see that I care about you. But I won’t be with someone I can’t trust.”
That last statement cost him. He’s been hurt, I know that much. But I want the full story. If he demands my dark secrets it’s only fair I own his. Feeling brave, I ask him the question that has been at the forefront of my thoughts for the past day.
“Adam, what did she do to you? The woman you once were in a relationship with, how did she break your heart? What did she do to make you have this need for control?”
He leans back in the chair, his muscles tensing. “Stop trying to make this about me.”
“But it is. It’s about both of us.”
We stare at each other, our stubborn natures making us unwilling to turn away. A ringing phone shakes us from our standoff. Adam curses but still reaches for it and snarls a perfunctory greeting as he stands.
As Adam diverts his attention to the phone call, I allow myself the opportunity to breathe. When he ends that call he’s going to return to this subject. How do I make him let it go? Maybe I can distract him with seduction? At first I chuckle at the thought but the idea slowly becomes less absurd.
I eye him in that perfectly fit button-down shirt. Even when he’s upset, he’s incredibly handsome. The idea of kissing those angry lips is beyond tempting, it’s irresistible.
I kick off my shoes and saunter over to him. He’s mentally in the office, but a curious mix of confusion and intrigue moves across his face. I’m so going to win this argument.
“If we lose that property because of a hundred-thousand-dollar difference, I’m going to be furious. The location is perfect. Agree to the damn conditions and close the deal.”
He rotates his shoulders as he holds the phone to his ear and plops back down on the couch. It’s now or never. I slide my hands under my skirt and take off my panties. Without taking my eyes off him, I toss them on the floor by his feet. I have his attention now. He blinks a few times, trying to retain his composure, and then speaks into the receiver.
“He asked for what?”
Lifting my skirt so it rides high on my thighs, I straddle him. The fear that he might reject me crosses my mind, but the press of his hand at the small of my back tells me this is not the case. I lean against him and begin to lick the contour of his ear, nipping the lobe. He swallows hard, but manages to continue speaking.
“I agree to the price increase, but not the extension on the closing. I need possession of the property by the end of the week.”
While my lips continue the relentless conquest of his ear, I undo his belt. Adam breathes deep, my actions affecting his concentration.
“Read that line again.”
I undo his pants and pull down the zipper, freeing his growing erection straining under the confines of his boxer-briefs. I can’t resist the urge to plunge my hand inside. My fingers grip his width as my eyes fix on his.
His tongue slips out of his mouth, moistening his lips, and the muscles between my legs constrict at the sight.
“I’m going to have to call you back.” He taps the end call button and tosses the phone on the coffee table.
Adam grips me by the wrist and pulls my hand out of his pants. Hauling me forward so my breasts are flattened against his firm chest, he kisses me, his teeth biting at my lips as his tongue dips into my mouth. Unable to control the urge, I groan. His free hand tangles in my hair, pulling on my curls and tilting my chin up. I gaze at him between my eyelashes, panting with desire.
“I know what you’re doing,” he whispers in a low, menacing tone.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” I say innocently.
Adam’s hands move over my chest, over the buttons of my blouse, and with a rough tug he yanks it open, the buttons scattering over the floor like confetti. Then the ruined blouse is on the floor and he’s unclasping my bra with quick, deft fingers, leaving me with only my skirt that looks more like a belt.
“Do you trust me?”
“I thought trust comes only after you date someone for a while. Isn’t that in the Adam Black dating manual?” I don’t bother hiding the teasing curve of my lips.
Adam pushes me so my back arches like a bow. My head hangs inverted, one of his hands supporting me at the small of my back while the other runs up and down my chest, the tips of his fingers grazing my neck and then caressing the sides of my breasts.
“Stop being cute and answer the question,” he says throatily.
My mouth opens as I struggle to breathe, though he doesn’t give me time to recover. He jerks me up against him and his warmth envelops me like a blanket. My barriers down, I let my instincts govern my response.
“Yes, I trust you.”
Content, he flashes me a sexy smile while his hands palm my breasts. My nipples harden and he takes the opportunity to pinch them, spurring a moan from my lips.
Pulling away he grips the buckle of his undone belt and yanks the leather free from his pants.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
Intrigued, I do what I’m told, and at the sight of Adam slipping the tip of the belt strap into its loop my chest begins to heave. He positions my hands inside the clasp of the belt and pulls, forcing my posture to straighten as the leather encircles my wrists. Wrapping the remaining length around my waist he holds on to the end, his wrist twisting once around the length, so he can maintain the hold.
My pulse quickens, because the idea of not being able to touch him both excites and petrifies me.
Adam pulls himself out of his pants, his other hand controlling the belt strap. He strokes himself a few times, and the sight makes my throbbing muscles react. I’m wet—soaking wet. Releasing his erection, he moves my body up and positions me so I slide down on his hard cock. My mouth opens in a drawn-out sigh as I feel him slip inside, inch by delicious inch, though before the last of his length is embedded deep his forearm flexes underneath my ass, halting my descent.
“Eyes on me, Evelyn,” he commands, and the thought of resisting doesn’t even filter through my fogged mind.
In this position I should have control but obviously I don’t, and for a blissful second, I don’t care because submitting to him feels right. Before I can process what I’m thinking, his hips buckle, his forearms moves and he thrusts the last of his length sharply into me, mercilessly, stirring a cry from my lips.
“I still want to know what you were doing today.” Adam’s gorgeous eyes search mine as he shifts my body.
His thick cock is lodged to the hilt, his balls resting at the base of my ass. The look in his eyes, determined with a hint of lust, makes it impossible to think. “Adam…” I say in a breathy plea.
Cutting me off, he pulls on the belt, straightening my back and forcing my shoulders to arch. Once again his hips buckle and his heat momentarily slips out of my sex before again he rams deep into my depths. I whimper as my muscles stretch around him. Fuck! This is not how I envisioned this experience.
“I won’t stop until you tell me.”
As if to reaffirm his point he continues to move, lunging into my body while his grip tightens against the belt and the rush of so many sensations—the bite of pain, the burn of arousal and the sizzle of anger—leaves me defenseless. This is coercion. This is how he wants to interrogate me? This isn’t fair—
Adam’s strong fingers dig into the tender flesh of my hip as he slams me down his cock while simultaneously pivoting up. With relentless persistence he torments me, orchestrating my movements while he rubs against the spot inside of me only he’s ever discovered, and my orgasm builds and builds. I reach the pinnacle. This exquisite tension overruns me and as I’m about to burst, Adam shifts, changing his tempo and denying me release.
A low growl rumbles in the back of my throat and he flashes me a smile that though beautiful, isn’t friendly.
“What. Were. You. Doing. In. That. Building?” he says between slow, powerful drives.
My anger wins the battle of emotions raging within me, because it’s not right that he demand so much of me when he’s not willing to reciprocate. I clench my muscles, squeezing his cock tightly and he hisses.
“Fuck you, Adam. I plead the fifth.” I flash him my own version of his taunting smile noting the beads of sweat on his forehead. He’s struggling, and I’m loving the sight. I roll my hips against him, biting my lip to prevent the groan that’s itching to break loose from my throat.
Adam’s grip on both the belt and my hip tightens and the twinge of pain that radiates from the contact is heaven, because I’ve never been one to run from pain, in fact, I’ve chased it. He leans forward and when I try to do the same because I want to taste his lips, he tugs on the belt, reminding me I’m not in control.
“I’ve said it before,” he rasps. “I’m better at this game. More experienced. I will win. It’s only a matter of time, unless of course, you’re willing to forfeit.”
The subtlety of his challenge isn’t lost on me. I can end this with one word—stop. But in saying it I lose him, and I can’t bear to lose him. This leaves me with one option, telling him the truth and then watching him leave me. Unable to make a decision, he continues tormenting me, fucking me, bringing me to the edge only to pull me away at the last second.
Death by mind-blowing sexual torture? There are worse ways to go. Submitting to his control, I let my moans escape—he’s earned them. Even still, I’m too stubborn to answer his question, though he continues to ask. Time blurs, leaving me uncertain as to how long this dangerous game between us lasts—hours, maybe? My body becomes sore and my groans are becoming soft, helpless whimpers under the strain of his skilled touch.
Adam pushes his still-clothed body against me, making me hyperaware of the vulnerability of my current position since I’m practically naked. The musky scent of our heated bodies mingled with his aftershave has me lightheaded. Wanting to savor his skin, I part my lips, planting kisses along his jaw, reveling at the opportunity to finally touch him. He leans into my kisses and whispers in my ear, “Why are you resisting?”
Drained by his assault, I respond honestly. “Because I’m scared.”
His tongue runs along the curve of my cheek, licking at a stray tear and culminating in a fleeting kiss before again he asks, “Where were you today?”
Maybe it’s the rush of his caress, of the hope inspired by the fact that Adam has been the only man I’ve ever met who chases challenges instead of running away from them, or resignation over what I think is inevitable, but I’m unable to hold out anymore. It’s over.
“At therapy, Adam. At therapy.” I sob helplessly, my body fatigued from the surges of pleasure. The entire experience is oddly cathartic.
Frowning, he tilts back, his gaze assessing mine. “You were speaking with a therapist?”
I nod as I sway, my body sticky with sweat.
He releases the hold on the belt and it falls on the tile floor. My arms, finally free, wrap around him, clutching him desperately because I’m terrified it’s the last time I’ll ever hold him and to my surprise he reciprocates my affection, one of his arms wrapping around my waist while the other curves around the nape of my neck.
“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” He sounds confused.
“I didn’t want you to think less of me,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. With tenderness he’s never before shown, he kisses me. His lips, though soft, are demanding. They take everything I have left, claiming and owning what I know in the depths of my heart is only his. It’s as if after stripping me bare, he’s breathing life back into my tattered bones.
Abruptly, he pushes me down on the living room carpet. Then he’s moving, thrusting into me again and again. I wrap my legs around his hips, crossing them at the ankles, feeling as if the floor is falling away from me. Having been on the edge for so long, my orgasm comes swiftly and with ferocity. Seconds later he’s crashing with me, his body shuddering above mine as he spends himself, a warm sensation spreading between my legs.
The corners of the room come back into focus and when I look up Adam is staring at me with an expression I can’t gauge.
“Don’t keep things from me,” he commands, while softly rubbing his fingers against my cheek.
I unclasp my legs from his hips suddenly self-conscious. “I’m sure there are things you don’t want to know.”
“Like the fact that you go to therapy?” he says grabbing hold of my thighs and halting my retreat. “Everyone goes to therapy, and if they don’t, they probably should.”
I laugh because his words and actions allow relief to wash over me. My tension evaporates.
He smiles at me. “I want to know everything about you.”
I stare at him wide-eyed. “Why?”
Adam shakes his head. “I don’t understand how a beautiful, intelligent woman like you can be so self-doubting.”
Releasing one of my thighs, he grabs my chin so I can’t turn away. “I want to know everything about you because even though you piss me off with your statements, your stubborn actions, your insecurities…you inspire me.”
I close my eyes because the emotion I see in his scares me.
“Adam, you say things like that and I have no clue how to respond.”
He rolls onto his side, taking me with him. “Why do you have to overthink everything? Why can’t you just smile and take the words for what they are—a compliment?”
I press my head against his chest, his smell again intoxicating my senses. In his arms I’m safe. “Because you say you want to know everything about me, and knowing someone like that takes longer than a month.”
Adam’s fingers trail down my stomach, grazing my navel. “I take it our conversation yesterday upset you.” He avoids my gaze as he speaks.
I fidget at the question. “What woman wants to hear that the man she’s seeing has a four-week expiration date on relationships?”
Adam presses his lips against mine abruptly. It’s a quick kiss, the type that burns fast and leaves you hot and panting. He pulls back and stares into my eyes. “When I’m around you I’m confused, and that’s new to me. You throw me off balance and make me lose my focus. I haven’t felt like that in years. What I said yesterday was a warning. I don’t want to hurt you, and it’s been a long time since I cared enough not to hurt someone.”
I squeeze his biceps, rubbing my thumb against the definition of his muscle. “Why do you think you’ll hurt me?”
He cups my cheek and I lean into his touch, relishing in his warmth.
“Because of the way you react when I touch you. You’re naïve. You don’t know how the world works when it comes to men and women.”
“Maybe the problem is that you think you know it all,” I say defiantly.
“Happily ever after doesn’t exist.” He releases his hold on my cheek, his body tensing. “The concept is nothing more than a bargaining tool people use to manipulate, and I’m not interested in playing that game.”
He must see something in my face because he curses under his breath. “I meant it when I said you’re the first woman in a long time I cared enough about to warn. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“If you care so much, then why not stay away from me? Why come get me tonight?”
“Because I couldn’t stay away!” Moving my body away from his, he sits up. “I’m a selfish man who goes after what he wants and what I wanted tonight was you. I readily admit I’m an asshole. I’ve always been upfront with women—told them exactly what to expect. Even still, I’ve made countless women cry and never once thought twice about it… But shit… The thought of making you cry…”
He goes silent, and because I can’t tolerate the cynicism and sadness that has washed over him, I sit up and wrap my arms around him. “Adam…” I know I should say something. Finally, a thought registers in my head.
“Do you go to therapy?”
He laughs. “Is that your subtle way of implying I should?”
Before I’m able to respond he counters with a question of his own. “Why do you go?”
I’m not ready for this type of honesty, for the intimacy of telling someone your deepest, darkest secrets. So I shake my head, smile at him and instead decide to ask him a random question. “Are you hungry? I’m famished.”
Adam frowns. “Evelyn…” His phone rings, interrupting us.
Silently, I thank whoever’s on the other end the phone. I lean toward Adam and kiss his cheek. “I’ll make us something. Would you like a sandwich?” I whisper as he reaches for the phone. Already too distracted to care, he nods at my question.
I stand up from the floor and stretch. I slide the wrinkled skirt off and head to the kitchen. Adam continues to talk as I prepare the ingredients I’ve taken out of the refrigerator.
“What are the taxes on the property?” He rubs the back of his neck, the phone firmly pressed against his ear. “That’s going to increase once we get the new appraisal.” His forehead creases in a small frown. “Did you talk to Jacobson? What did he say about the Korbin Property?” After a long pause Adam emphatically curses. “I’ll do it myself.” He looks at his watch. “I want to be in the air in two hours; make sure the flight is cleared.”
Two hours? He’s leaving already? I stand there naked in the kitchen, unable to move. He’s always going to leave. Come to terms with it. Unwilling to dwell on the thought, I step into the living room and he’s gone. A sudden feeling of deja vu hits me. I put the plate with the sandwiches on the coffee table and walk toward the light emanating from my art studio.
Adam is standing in the middle of the room looking at the painting I had deformed in frustration. It’s now a dark, blooming iris, on the verge of opening its petals to the world.
“You finished it.” A hint of delight is blended with surprise.
I lean against the doorframe, staring at him. “I felt challenged to make something out of that painting. You could say a stranger motivated me.”
Adam turns to face me, amusement etched on his face. “You should thank that stranger.”
I narrow my eyes at him playfully. “Reminiscing on the events of the last few days, I believe I already have.”
His chuckle fills the room.
“You know, I thought you looked lovely that day. You were wearing jeans and a T-shirt, your hair was wild from the events of the day, and yet there was something about you I couldn’t ignore.” Adams eyes linger over my form. “And now…” He pauses.
I straighten against his scrutiny. “And now…what?” I need him to say the right words. He rarely says something tender unless we are in the throes of lovemaking, but at the moment I need Adam Black to be my hero again. I feel vulnerable in my own home, standing naked before him, and one dismissive glance, one careless phrase, will break me.
“Now you look gorgeous.” He strides forward and strokes my cheek with his knuckles.
The action hurts because I recognize it’s fleeting. “You have to go.” I say the words myself because I know they’re coming anyway.
He nods. “I have to go to New York to settle a problem.”
I smile at him brightly. I refuse to let him see even a small measure of sadness in my eyes. I’ve come to the conclusion that Adam Black is not a man who appreciates weakness, mainly because I have yet to see him exhibit any.
“At least take your sandwich,” I say with a smile.
“I wouldn’t dream of leaving without it.” He leans down and kisses my cheek before stepping past me.
I hear him grab his keys from the coffee table and I’m fighting back tears as I turn to face the door. He has the sandwich in his hand. He looks at me as he opens the front door and enthusiastically bites into the sandwich. I laugh, because I know it’s his way of saying thank you. The door closes behind him and I’m left alone.
My body is sore. It has been used and discarded. My thoughts are unforgiving. You wanted this. You’re the one that tried to seduce him. Live with your mistakes.
“I doubt there’s a girl in this world who wants to be left alone immediately after she’s been thoroughly fucked,” I whisper, and the words sound loud against the vacant room.
I slide down the wall and bring my knees to my chest. As I sit there thinking, something dawns on me. He was tender. He admitted he cares—that he can’t stay away. Perhaps tonight was not a defeat, but a small victory.
The thought is enough to get me through the night.