Chapter Seventeen
MATHEW BLACK LOOKS genuinely confused. “You have a girlfriend?”
“I don’t exactly tell you everything about my life.” Adam takes a step forward and grabs my hand.
Mathew smirks as he takes a step back. “Does your girlfriend have a name?” He looks at Adam when he asks the question, placing a sarcastic emphasis on the word your.
“I can speak for myself.” I narrow my eyes at them both.
Adam’s grip tightens around my hand. “Evelyn, this is Mathew, my brother.” He scoffs. “Though I’m not sure why I’m bothering with introductions, since you two have obviously met.”
“Actually, we never did get around to making introductions,” I murmur with irritation, because I find it ridiculous he’s upset.
“Yes, we were eager to get on the dance floor.” Mathew has a condescending smirk on his lips as he stares at me.
“That’s not how I remember it happening.” I rally to my defense.
Adam pulls me closer. “Well, since you enjoy dancing, so much, please do me the honor.” He looks at Mathew. “Now, if you will excuse us?”
“It’s been a pleasure, Evelyn.” The way Mathew utters my name holds the same seductive edge Adam often uses.
I have little time to think on the uncanny similarity as Adam’s free hand moves to the small of my back and we’re dancing. Being light on my feet is a skill that eludes me, though in Adam’s arms I doubt anyone would notice. He leads me in a variety of spins, and more than once I find myself catching my breath at the fluidity of the movements. It’s as if we’re having a silent argument on the dance floor, our eyes often meeting in a fierce clash of wills.
After a deftly executed twirl, Adam pulls me against him so that I can smell the intoxicating aroma of his skin.
“Smile, Evelyn; you looked quite happy before. I would hate to be the cause of your distress,” Adam says impassively.
My eyes dart up to meet his and I smile with sincerity, because even if he’s controlling his emotions and leaving me guessing as to his thoughts, I’m where I want to be—in his arms.
As the band finishes the song Adam leads me toward a secluded area around the house. Throughout our brief trek he remains silent, the soft tapping of our feet as we step on stone pavers being the only noise between us. My eyes focus on our destination. The building we’re approaching has a wall with a high peak toward the front, and vines are climbing over the delicate brickwork, the erosion forcing some of the stones to fade and chip. As we enter the structure I’m awestruck by the sight; it’s a greenhouse. The exterior stonework extends to the far wall, but all the others are made of delicate glass. Flower pots are scattered around the room and the smell of soil and blooming roses make me smile. If Adam wasn’t flushed with anger, I would assume he brought me here for an intimate encounter.
As if he were discarding his coat after a long day, he whirls me around and releases me from his clenched grip. I shuffle back with wide eyes as the top of my thighs hit a weathered table and the clank of ceramic pots echoes behind me as my fingers splay out in search of stability.
“Did you forget that you came to this party with me?” he says, adopting a cold, detached tone.
The question surprises me, though my shock quickly shifts to anger. “I should ask you the same question.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not the one who was surrounded by a cluster of scantily clad groupies earlier. If it was your intention to ignore me, why bring me at all?”
“Ignore you! I’ve spent the night standing by your side, introducing you to my family, to people I’ve known for years, and you have the nerve to say I was ignoring you?” He takes a step forward and glares down at me.
I meet his gaze, because even though he intimidates me, I refuse to be humbled by this man.
“The second I walked away you surrounded yourself with the Adam Black Fan Club. I doubt you even noticed I was gone until you saw me on the dance floor.”
“You’re being ridiculous. I was socializing with family friends while you went out of your way to make me jealous.”
“You act as if you found me making out with some guy in a closet! It was a dance.”
“It’s the fact that you were dancing with him,” he says with exasperation.
“Why does it matter?”
When he doesn’t respond to the question, I look at him, really stare him down, focusing on the flush of his cheeks, the sweat misting his hairline, the stiff rigidness of his locked muscles. Though he’s attempting to mask his expression, insecurity is written in the subtle nuances of his tense jaw and the small creases under his eyes. The realization is so shocking it dulls my anger.
“Why did you neglect to tell me you had a brother?”
He leans down and whispers, “You seriously want to discuss why I neglected to tell you something?”
My face blanches. “It’s not the same.”
“You’re right, it’s not!” His raised voice reverberates against the windows.
“There you go with your self-righteous, high-and-mighty attitude. You get angry at me for being dishonest when you conceal everything from me.”
“I wasn’t the one with my body pressed up against someone else.” His sapphire eyes gleam against the glittering lights of the greenhouse.
I sneer at the comment. “Well, honestly, how could you press up against just one person? Your groupies virtually surrounded you. I doubt you knew which direction to lean.”
“That’s enough,” he growls. “I was talking with people I’ve known for years, while you were flirting with my brother.”
“People you’ve known for years?” A laugh escapes my lips. “You mean people you’ve fucked, don’t you?” I stand tall, steeling myself. “Just how many people have you screwed at this party?”
“Do you want an exact number or an approximation?”
“You are such an asshole,” I say through clenched teeth.
“My brother is a handsome man. Maybe if he compliments your paintings, you’ll fuck him, too.”
I don’t give myself the opportunity to think. My palm cracks against his cheek. The shock on Adam’s face gives me a small sense of satisfaction and I raise my hand again, to hurt him like his words have hurt me. Adam grabs my wrists and twists my arms so they are pinned behind my back. Though I’m still angry, a raw sexual energy charges the air around us.
“I didn’t mean that… I’m sorry.” The words rasp out of him, as if torn from the deepest part of his soul and it’s hard for me to keep it together when I hear vulnerability in his voice.
“Sometimes you’re so cruel, a complete—”
“Bastard. Unfeeling, ruthless prick.”
I hate his acquiescing response, more because I’m not willing to end his self-deprecation than my reciprocating sentiments. And yet, faults and all, I still believe he’s an incredible man—the best I’ve ever met.
Before I can get a grip on my emotions, his lips clash with mine. Our bodies move back and once again I hit the table full of ceramic pots, one of them falling at the sudden jolt. My head is telling me to fight back, to stop him, but my body is a slave to his touch. In a moment of clarity, I tilt my chin up to pull away and Adam bites my lower lip. It’s the best type of pain, one that makes your heart race and reminds you you’re alive.
I’m panting. He’s only inches away and I can tell he’s struggling with his own desires. How can I be so angry at him and yet so starved for his attention, for his touch?
“What’s your plan, Adam? You want to get in a quick fuck before you toss me aside so I can be like one of the fawning women out there? Pining over you, hoping you’ll deign to give me your attention.” I pull my hands from his grip and push them against his chest.
Adam isn’t fazed by my shove, though he does take a few steps back. “Evelyn, upsetting you wasn’t…” he starts to say.
I interrupt him. “I refuse to be something you use and discard. Remember what I told Victoria, that maybe I was going to be the one using you? I meant that.”
I take a deep breath, strengthening myself against the pain numbing my senses, because I know my words are a lie. I already belong to the Adam Black Fan Club. In the span of two weeks I’ve fallen in love with this man, and to him I’m probably nothing more than a diversion. The words of my Catholic mother echo in my head. Don’t sleep with a man before you’re married…he’ll never respect you.
“You’re letting emotions get in the way…” Adam’s says bitterly.
Once again I interrupt him. “Well, at least I make the effort to openly express my emotions. You repress and bury them, until they fester.”
He mutters a curse under his breath before his mouth covers my lips, effectively silencing me. I shift my hands up with the intention of pushing him away, but I’m lost to passion. Adam pulls back so his lips hover above mine, his strong arms holding me in place.
“Why do you keep doing that?” I say softly.
“Because it’s the only way I can get you to shut up.” Adam pulls back and runs his hand over his hair, frustration searing through his expression. He eyes his watch. “It’s getting late, we need to go.”
“I despise how you tell me what to do. I hate how you keep things from me and then criticize me for doing the same. You rage at me for keeping secrets from you, when you keep everything from me. You’re a hypocrite.”
Adam leans forward; his movements like a prowling panther, slow and frightening. “Say what you really mean. You despise me.” The self-loathing in his gaze is sobering.
My eyes widen and I take a deep breath. I can’t stand the idea of Adam thinking I hate him. I place my hands on his cheeks. “I don’t know how to be the person you want me to be. I keep making mistakes without even trying.”
“The person you are, is exactly who I want in my life.”
His body freezes and his eyes dilate, almost as if he’s surprised by the admission he’s made. Sensing I need to make the next move or run the risk of coming to a deadlock in the conversation, in our relationship, I bite back my fear and hold on to my resolve.
“Adam, before you, I was numb, purposefully disconnected from the world around me. I could be around a thousand people and still feel choking fear, but in your arms, I feel safe. Even when I think you are being unfair, I could never, ever, hate you.”
We stare at each other for a long time—then like magnets, we collide. Grabbing the back of my thighs, Adam carries me as his lips bruise mine in a kiss that tastes of the longing, the frustration, and the craving we’ve both been afflicted with.
My back hits the delicate ironwork of a weathered trellis and I don’t bother to muffle the moan that escapes my lips. Adam’s hands move up my dress and the realization of what we’re doing hits me like a freight train.
“Adam, we’re in your parents’ house, in a building open to the public,” I protest, and though I mean it, my body rubs against his, contradicting my statement.
“I don’t care. I’ve wanted to fuck you since I saw you in this dress. It took all my willpower to resist you in the car, and right now all I want to bury myself in your sweet pussy and hear you cry out. I want to know I’m the only man who will lay claim to every inch of your body.”
His husky tenor and brutal honesty makes my body warm.
For a brief moment, I note the words he chose to describe his desires. He wants to fuck me, not make love to me. Do I mind? I don’t even know the difference between the two, and the truth is, I want him inside of me.
He slips his fingers inside the delicate fabric of my panties and tears them free, leaving me open-mouthed in astonishment. He takes the opportunity to claim me in a chaotic, wet kiss. The world stills.
Adam moves his lips over my chest and my muscles constrict. His hands and body continue their downward journey until he’s on his knees, and to my shock, he lifts my already short dress so it bunches at my waist, exposing me. My ripped panties have long since been discarded and I’m too filled with desire to feel even an ounce of shame. With wide eyes I watch as he peers up at me, lust burning through his gaze. His lips trail kisses along my thighs, and when he reaches the apex, he buries his head between my legs as his tongue parts the folds of my sex.
I cry out at the feel of his tongue swirling along the delicate flesh between my legs. Adam’s pace is slow at first, and when his fingers move against my clit the sensation makes my muscles clench. I’m close, and the skill of his probing tongue pushes me over the edge. One of my hands grips the iron trellis for support as I come, my panting cries sounding incredibly sharp in the serene greenhouse.
Adam moves up, all the while rubbing his head along my body. He holds me upright as my knees shake, and when his face meets mine he kisses me, his lips still slick with my arousal. I rub my body against him like a cat in heat, because he has the power to make me lose all sense. He pulls back and the sexy smile on his lips is dripping with masculine pride.
“Do you like the way you taste?” he says in a deep whisper.
I don’t even have to think about my response. “Everything tastes good on your lips, even me.”
“I want you to say it, Evelyn.” Adam pushes his growing erection against my pelvis.
A small frown forms on my face.
Responding to my unspoken question, he once against thrusts his bulging erection against my body. “Tell me what you want.”
“You, I want you.” I writhe with need against him.
“Why do you want me?”
His arrogance turns me on. Between breathy pants, I respond. “I want you to fuck me…because I’m yours. You’re the only man I want to be with.”
His lips bruise mine as he claims my mouth and I vaguely hear the clink of his belt buckle before he pushes into me. My body is pinned between him and the iron trellis and each thrust feels like a magnificent punishment. I know he’s still upset, he’s exasperated with me, and he’s fucking his frustrations out. One of his hands is holding the intricate iron while the other holds my hip in place, anchoring him, so he can maintain control.
A quivering moan escapes my lips as his precise lunges build me up fast. This isn’t a slow seduction, but a quick fuck, the threat of being caught making the thrill sharp. I bite my bottom lip, trying to repress my screams, because the echo in the greenhouse amplifies every sound, but Adam won’t allow me to hold back.
“I want to hear you, Evelyn. I want to hear every uninhibited sound you make as I fuck you.”
He hitches my leg, shifting his position so his shaft slides against that special spot inside me he’s so incredibly familiar with and I cry out, not even remotely concern about being heard by another party guest. In seconds, I’m letting go and coming with a heart-pounding shudder.
Adam reaches his own climax, and the sensation of his release pulsing between my legs is exhilarating. We both slide down the trellis to the floor, our bodies exhausted. Running my fingertips along the strands of his hair, I notice it’s damp with perspiration, and I love that I can do this to him, leave him weak and spent. I look over to the door and realize Victoria has left.
“How you can so easily make me lose control is both fascinating and frightening,” Adam gasps.
I kiss his lips affectionately. “The feeling is mutual.”
He gives me one of those go-weak-at-the-knees smiles and as I gaze at him, I feel a new confidence. “Why did you ask me out to dinner that day?” It’s a question I have long asked myself. Why would this man who has everything want to be with me?
His expression is tender and open, and I realize these moments are rare. “You want a truthful answer?”
I nod.
“At the bank, I thought you were attractive, but it was the way your heart pounded against mine that captured my attention. Maybe it was the situation, the adrenaline coursing through my veins, but as crude as it is to admit, I wanted to fuck you right there and then.”
I open my mouth to protest, to deny his brazen admission when he presses a finger to my lips.
“I’m not done,” he says firmly. “I took you home and when I realized the attraction between us was too strong to dismiss, I made the decision to pursue you. I thought I would contact you, we would see each other a few times, that I would sleep with you and sate my curiosity.”
My eyes narrow. He was only interested in sleeping with me?
“I am, as you so aptly put it, an asshole. I’ve never denied this.” He shrugs. “Something unexpected happened, though—I saw your paintings. Then at Art Basel, it was as if fate was throwing us together. We crossed paths and had our conversation.” He grins at the memory. “The way you spoke about the Vasquez photographs surprised me. You challenged me at every turn and I knew I wanted your sharp-witted lips against mine, that if I didn’t possess you it would drive me crazy.”
“And now that you’ve conquered me? Is your curiosity sated?”
He grabs me and with little effort pulls me onto his lap. His hand grips my chin and he shifts me so I’m facing him, only inches away from his tempting lips.
“I’m not so certain you’re conquered.” He brushes his lips against mine in a soft kiss that rapidly gives way to passion. “Fuck… I want to be inside you again,” he says between kisses, his lips caressing mine as they move.
I’m pressing my body against his when the clicking of heels makes me stiffen in shock. Adam looks amused as he stands with ease, as if the notion of being caught partially naked on the floor is not even remotely horrifying. He tucks himself in his pants, then extends his hand and lifts me onto my feet. With haste we dust ourselves off, and in the process I realize I don’t have my panties. I peer over to the entrance as Lillian Black walks into the greenhouse, her gown blowing against the wind.
“Adam…” I whisper. “My panties!”
He grins and takes a few steps forward toward the tattered garment. Adam places his foot over the black lace, concealing the evidence of our intimate encounter. He turns to face his approaching mother.
“Adam, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Adam’s chuckle is smooth and unperturbed. “I’ve been busy showing Evelyn around.”
His mother nods and looks over at me. “How do you like the greenhouse?”
I have to fight the blush threatening my cheeks. “I doubt anything I say could do the place justice. It’s gorgeous.”
“I’ve considered remodeling the space, fixing the aged bricks, but part of me likes the wild atmosphere created by the encroaching vines.”
“I wouldn’t change a thing,” I say firmly.
“Evelyn is fond of flowers, of anything dealing with nature, I think.”
Mrs. Black nods with a smile. “Oh, Adam, the Children’s Care benefit, you are going tomorrow, correct? I know your father expects you to attend.”
“Yes, I’ll be there, Evelyn will be coming with me.”
I will? Adam and I seriously need to work on our communication.
Lillian Black’s eyes widen. An odd expression crosses her face for a brief moment and then she nods. “Oh, that’s wonderful.”
My hands fidget as I watch Mrs. Black. I get the impression she doesn’t want me to go, and the entire situation—my lack of panties, the I’ve just been fucked flush on my face—has my heart working overtime.
“I need to head back to the party.” She turns her attention to Adam. “Mathew has decided to visit. Have you spoken to him?”
The calm expression on his face evaporates. “I had the pleasure.”
Mrs. Black purses her lips as if she’s going to speak, but after a few seconds she shakes her head. “Oh, and Mr. Rivera has been asking about you. Something related to a business proposition?”
“We were just heading back to the party. I’ll be sure to find him.”
The way Adam speaks gives me chills. This man is so disconnected from the people in his life. His outward façade usually exudes charm, and though he’s always polite, moments of happiness seem fleeting. What torments him so?
“Don’t keep him waiting long. You know he’s an impatient man.” She smiles at us. “Well, I better go see what your father is doing.” Mrs. Black turns and walks out of the greenhouse.
My eyes drift to Adam. I move toward him, wrapping my arms around his body. I don’t want him to be upset. I don’t want the intimacy we shared a few minutes ago to disperse like smoke in the air.
“We should get back to the party.” His hand slides to the small of my back, the hold rigid and tense.
“You seriously want to take me out there? What if a gust of wind were to hit us? Imagine the scene I’d make.” I don’t bother to hide the naughty grin on my face, since I learned it from him.
He laughs, his body relaxing in seconds. Adam bends and retrieves the tattered remains of my panties. “I need five minutes to placate my mother and talk to this man. Then we can revisit our pre-party activities in the limo,” he whispers in my ear. “And if a gust of wind strikes, you better make sure to hold your dress down. You may not have noticed, but I can be a very jealous man.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “Really? You’re the type that gets jealous?” I gaze at him with mock surprise.
Adam grabs my ass in a tight grip, making me squeal. “I’ll make you pay for that later.” He grins and gives me a quick kiss.
We walk out of the greenhouse holding hands. His strong palm against mine is reassuring, especially considering my ruined panties are crumpled in his pants pocket and the eyes of jealous women are on me as we start to mingle with the crowd. Once we reach Mr. Rivera, Adam politely introduces me. A few minutes later I excuse myself as they continue their conversation so I can visit the powder room. My recent activities have made me self-conscious. Adam’s semen is sliding between my legs, and the confidence I had when I walked out of the greenhouse is slowly fading as a small measure of Catholic shame creeps up on me. At least you’re whoring it up with a handsome, rich, charming man. I push away the mean thought.
I enter the house and make my way to the restroom when I’m once again halted by the sound of voices. I hear the loud groan of a woman and a knowing blush forms on my cheeks. A few minutes ago I was in the same position, so it’s oddly comforting knowing I’m not the only harlot at the party. I push the restroom door open, deciding I’ll ignore the passionate noises emanating from my left, when I hear three dreaded words.
“No. Don’t. Stop!”
The voice is familiar, but the pitch is odd. I walk to the left, slowly making my way down the hall, and the sound of the protesting voice gets louder.
“Not here. We can’t! It’s my party, we should get back.”
My eyes widen at the realization that it’s Sarah’s voice I hear.
“That’s the fun, baby. While everyone’s out there waiting for you, you’re in here getting fucked by me.”
“Markus, stop it. Get off me!” Sarah yells.
At this point, I’m in a panic. Should I go and get Adam? Should I barge into the room? I hear the sound of furniture grating against the floor and Sarah’s loud shriek. I go with my gut and storm into the room with my eyes narrowed and my fists balled at my sides. The door bangs as it hits something and I get the opportunity to survey the room. It’s a library.
Sarah is bent over a table, her dress pulled up, and though she’s still wearing underwear, Markus’s hands are between her legs. My eyes meet hers and the horror on her pale face is startling. Markus shifts his attention to me. We all stare at one another for a few long seconds until Sarah manages to squirm away from Markus’s control. She pulls her dress down with embarrassment.
I take a few brave steps into the room, getting closer to Sarah, and when I reach her I extend my hand. “Let’s go.”
She grabs my hand and as we reach the door Markus closes it and stands in front of us. I pull her behind me because she’s crying, her entire body trembling.
“You know, this could work,” Markus says in a slur as he moves toward me. “We can have our own little party here, just the three of us.”
I turn my face to the side as I smell the liquor on his breath. My heart is pounding like a jackhammer against my ears. Be rational, Evelyn. Talk your way out of this. I steel myself and stare into Markus’s menacing face.
“Adam knows where I am; he’ll come looking for me soon,” I say with vehemence.
He laughs. “That guy is a fucking pussy. I think you could do better.”
Markus moves his hand along my hip, lifting my dress slightly, and I quickly slap his hand away, though the action seems to excite him since he continues to move forward. Shit! I’m in a room without panties, with a drunken asshole. I have to fight the panic overwhelming me.
Markus persists in a low, garbled voice. “I bet you do all types of nasty shit when you’re getting fucked. Adam is easily bored, everyone knows that. You’d have to be a little freak in the bedroom to keep him interested.”
“Markus, you’re drunk! Quit being such a fucking moron.” Sarah’s says a bit steadier, though she’s still crying.
Markus blinks a few times as he looks between Sarah and me, his eyes finally gaining some measure of sense. He takes a step back and straightens his jacket. “Girls, come on, I was only messing around.” He chuckles and though he appears to be calm, a hint of apprehension lingers in his voice. “It was a poor joke. I’m sorry.”
I take a step back and stand next to Sarah.
“I think you should leave, Markus,” Sarah says coldly.
“Baby, it’s your birthday. I don’t want to leave you alone.” His voice is still showing signs of inebriation, though he is attempting to control his slurring speech.
Sarah opens her mouth to speak, and I grab her wrist and squeeze, stopping her. I smile at Markus. “Why don’t you go back to the party and we’ll follow you in a minute.” I’ve dealt with drunk people before; it’s better to placate them and make them think you agree with whatever nonsense they’re sputtering.
Markus narrows his eyes on us. He looks over at Sarah and once again I squeeze her wrist, hoping the subtle gesture convinces her to cooperate. She smiles mechanically at Markus.
“Baby, go back to the party. I need to freshen up,” she says in a practiced sweet tenor.
Markus grins and combs his fingers through his disheveled hair. “Don’t keep me waiting. You know how I miss you when you’re gone.” Stumbling a bit as he walks, he exits the room.
I turn to face Sarah, who’s sitting on the leather couch in the center of the room. She’s shaking her head and her hands are pressed against her crimson cheeks.
“Are you okay?” I whisper.
“He’s not like that very often. Honestly, most of the time he’s charming, but when he drinks too much he becomes such an ass.” Her feet are tapping nervously as she speaks.
“I’m not exactly in the position to be offering unsolicited advice, but you deserve better. You sounded…” I shrug, unsure of what else to say.
“Scared.” A bitter laugh emanates from her parted lips. “I don’t know what to do.” Her voice is soft and her shoulders are slumped in defeat.
I move closer to her and sit on the couch. “We could tell Adam. I’m sure he would know what to do.”
Sarah’s eyes widen in horror. “No!” She looks at me imploringly. “Please don’t say anything to Adam; he’ll flip out. Trust me, you don’t know him, not really. I mean, Adam was in the Marines, he would kill him.”
My body stiffens. “I can’t keep this from him. Adam can read me like a book.”
Tears once again streak down her rosy cheeks. “Evie, please, for my birthday, don’t tell Adam.”
I don’t have the opportunity to respond before Adam’s crisp voice echoes across the room. “Don’t tell me what?” He’s standing in the doorway, a frown on his attractive face as Sarah and I huddle together.