Chapter 1
Eve
Soft light from the candles in the center of each rustic wooden table in the restaurant cast a warm glow around us. Sam reaches for the wine bottle to refill our glasses. His other hand is on my thigh, seething hot in its contact with my skin, burning a trail of energy through me that lands between my legs, where I have been swollen and needing his touch for too many days. I can barely tolerate a whole day without him pressing any part of his body on mine, but our schedules are too crazy.
Our group is an eclectic mix of my friends tonight: Sam; my friend Monica; my bestie, Mia; and a few of my co-workers from Hotel K. For Monica, it’s kind of a reunion since she used to work there too. Laughter pours from the end of the long table where my co-workers sit. At my end of the table, Sam and Mia are getting to know one another more, and I’m next to Monica, who is checking her phone every five minutes. It’s been a real great conversation, let me tell you.
“Hey.” I put my hand on hers. “What’s going on? You’re obsessing over your phone.”
Monica smiles and looks up. “That’s what I like about you, Eve. You’re up-front about demanding information.”
I know Monica has girlfriends she spends more time with than me, but I’m guessing she agreed to this dinner since I already know some of the details about her relationship with Jonathan Drazen. I was worried about possible abuse, but I think I’m starting to get why it’s not.
“Well, you know I try to be honest,” I say, feeling Sam’s hand trail a line on my skin under the table.
“Yeah, well… did you hear Jonathan was arrested? I probably shouldn't talk to you about this since he’s your boss, but I don’t have anyone else. My best friend is dead.” She lowers her eyes and shakes her glass so the ice cubes in her tumbler splash into the remaining whiskey. “And I can’t really say much to Darren since they don’t exactly have a bromance brewing.”
“Oh, man, what? I had no idea he was arrested. You’ve had a tough couple of weeks.” I squeeze her hand. “You can tell me details… or not. I won’t say anything.”
She looks me in the eye. “Not one of my other friends asked about the man at my side at Gabby’s funeral. They just introduced themselves and asked me roundabout questions.” She shakes her head. “Anyway, his ex-wife is accusing him of abuse.”
“Whoa. Monica—”
“I know what you’re gonna say, but no. He’s never hurt me in a way I didn’t like. Jessica went to them with photos proving he’d abused her during sex. It’s been two days since these female cops questioned me and told me they’d protect me from him and the sex I crave with him. Two days and I’ve heard nothing. Technically, we’re broken up, but I’d like to know if he’s alright.”
“So, all you can do is check your phone.” I’m boiling inside, but I’m trying to hide it. What if he really is abusing her? “God, are you okay?”
“Of course, I’m okay. He used his belt on her, but it’s very simple,” she says, her voice clipped and direct. “His belt is for holding up his pants and binding me. His body, any part of it, is to give me pleasure and pain. If he gives any other woman either of those things with his body or any clothing accessory, it feels like cheating.” She turns her head away.
“Monica…”
“Eve. Pleasure, not abuse. I’m okay.” She looks at me. “But the minute we’re broken up, he goes to his ex.”
“Oh, man. The hits keep on coming. What will you do if he calls right now?”
“I don’t know. I think I’m gonna go clean my refrigerator.” She shrugs. “How are you and Sam? I never would have put you two together, but it looks like you’re getting on.”
“Uh, yeah. It’s pretty intense. I have a feeling that he and Jonathan are a lot alike, although we haven’t crossed the pain/pleasure threshold and I have no plans to,” I say in a hushed tone.
Monica stares at me for a moment, jaw open. “Wow… really?”
“Really.”
“I am. Utterly. Shocked,” Monica says with her head tilted.
“I know. I still struggle with it, but I’ve been reading these feminist blogs online about being dominated in the bedroom and I’m coming around. Well, to be honest, I’m coming multiple times, but I’m learning that’s to be expected.”
We burst into laughter, but further conversation is interrupted when Monica’s phone bloops. She snatches it from the table and takes a quick breath. I glance at Sam, who’s listening to Mia, but his eyes are on mine. They’re stormy blue, with a deep energy that burns through me and puts my nipples and clit at attention. If his hand moves anywhere on my skin, I could combust.
Monica squeezes my hand and stands. “It’s him.” She shows me her phone screen, and I see the words Can you play? “I’m still feeling ragey, but I have to go see him.”
“Okay. I’m here if you need me.”
We say our good-byes and I watch her walk out. I’m about to check my own phone, but Sam pushes his hand between my legs under the tablecloth. The rushing need I feel intensifies from seeing the word play on Monica’s phone. He reaches the soft, warm place he’s searching for, but withdraws his hand when his phone lights up. He sighs and looks at me. Whatever his phone says obviously doesn’t make him happy.
“Excuse me for a minute, would you?” He taps a kiss on my cheek.
Before I can respond, he stands and walks out.