Adam & Eve- a Tale of Obsession

by Shantel Davis

  I steadied my voice. “Where is your wife? How can you be married and do something like this?”

  The tortured look on his face almost made me want to take the question back. Almost.

  “My wife is none of your concern.” He walked back over to the chaise lounge and sat down with his back to me.

  I considered pushing him to answer my question but quickly decided against it. Just like the question about Michal, I might not have wanted to hear the answer.

  The next thirty minutes passed with us sitting in silence, avoiding the other’s gaze. The anxiety coming from worrying about what would happen next had me on edge. So much so, I damn near jumped out of my skin when there was a buzz at the door. The professor got up and walked to the door without a glance my way. I laid there, figuring I would be wasting my time to try to do anything. He was smart. I knew getting away wouldn’t be easy.

  He opened the door wide but blocked my view with his body. He rolled a food tray into the room then whispered something to the person, or persons, who’d brought the tray. Once he was done, the door clicked shut. He opened the keypad again and put in a few numbers. I squinted trying to see them, but his fingers moved too quick.

  Without acknowledging me, he wheeled the tray over into a shadowy corner of the room. I couldn’t see him, but my eyes never left the corner he’d disappeared into. I stared so hard that I was startled when a light suddenly clicked on. Plates of food set on a small brown oak kitchen table with a chair on either side. It made me curious to see what else was hiding in the shadows.

  The smell of food caused my stomach to growl loudly, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten in hours. I was also thirsty and had to pee.

  Whatever it takes. Whatever it takes, I repeated over and over in my head.

  With thirty uninterrupted minutes of thought, I’d come to the decision I’d do whatever it was he wanted me to do without putting up a fight. I needed to stay alive to get the hell out of whatever he’d trapped me in. If he wanted sex, I’d have sex with him. If he wanted a girlfriend, sex slave, companion, cook; I’d be all those things. I would do what I needed to do to get up out of here unscarred physically and emotionally.

  Before I could fix my mouth to ask him how I was going to eat tied to a bed, his hand went into his pocket and out came the menacing looking hunting knife. His threat to slit my throat looped in my head like a broken record. Logically, I knew he was about to cut me loose, but my heart still hammered against my ribcage.

  Slowly, he approached the bed and sat to the side of me. Our eyes were connected the entire time. I had to be sure he wasn’t going to make good on his previous threats. I didn’t know why he was staring at me as such. First, he cut both my legs loose, then he pinned me with a stare that promised something bad would happen if I tried anything. Again, I thought about hitting him, but I wasn’t stupid.

  First my right arm, and then my left was cut loose. I sat up then stretched out my sore body while rubbing my aching wrist. I was grateful I had no rope burns. He stood from the bed but said nothing. His silence unnerved me.

  “Bathroom?” I asked, voice calmer than expected.

  He nodded toward another door in the room, opposite of the door the food had come through. My toes sank into the plush carpet when I stood. I watched him cautiously as I made my way across the room. I tried to make it to the bathroom without looking back, but I couldn’t help myself. I glanced over my shoulder to find his eyes exploring every inch of my body. He didn’t look one bit ashamed that he had been caught at it. He was a pervert.

  I slipped into the bathroom and eased the door closed behind me. I was surprised by the lock on the door. I clicked it into place and started searching the bathroom. I looked for a way to escape, but there were no windows. I really hadn’t expected there to be. I doubted he would have let me go into the bathroom alone if it would be that easy to escape.

  Like the room, the walls were painted white. Black and red towels were organized on the sink and hanging on the towel rack. It was the exact same way at my house. I cringed at yet another similarity and wanted to freak the hell out again, but I calmed myself by taking a few deep breaths. There was no way out, and by looking for one, I was just wasting time and disappointing myself.

  I sat down on the toilet as I scanned the room. While I handled my business, I looked at everything else I hadn’t paid attention to at first. A large white ordinary glass enclosed shower stall was to the right of me. A medicine cabinet sat above the sink and a full-size mirror hung on the wall. For some reason I figured the room would be different and fancier decorated because of who the professor was. I knew he was rich. His wedding had been lavish. I would have never figured him to be so plain.

  I got up and then washed my hands. Once done, I opened the medicine cabinet. Inside was a toothbrush, toothpaste, a brush, a comb, and medicine bottles. I ignored everything except the toothbrush and toothpaste, grateful to be able to wash the nasty taste from my mouth. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I closed the medicine cabinet, but reopened it. Something told me to look at the pill bottles. I picked them up one at a time. All four had the professor’s name on it; Adam Winchester. One read take one a day for anxiety. The instruction labels on all the others had been torn so I couldn’t tell what they were or what they treated.

  I made a mental note to asked him, just not anytime soon. I closed the cabinet, looked at the shower and considered a bath, but my stomach and nerves protested that idea. I took a deep breath. I turned and looked down at the door handle. The thought of going back into that room unnerved me. But I knew I had to lest he freaked out again. I opened the door and was startled when I came face-to-face with Adam. He was standing right outside the door, the same sad look from earlier had returned to his face.

  Nervously, I chewed at my bottom lip and wondered if I should ask him what was wrong, just to see where his head was. I didn’t get the chance. He turned and stalked back to the other side of the room where the food was waiting. I followed him quietly, figuring if I had done something wrong, he would have told me.

  F I V E

  She had locked the fucking door. I fumed silently at her slight against me. Why was she purposely trying to hurt me? Feeling my anger mounting, I took a deep breath to compose myself. The rational side of me knew the circumstances surrounding how she ended up here with me would cause a few hiccups in my plan. I had kidnapped her and tied her to our bed. But no one had ever accused me of being rational.

  Psycho.

  Should I really expect her to trust me? The voice in my head screamed no, but my heart said yes. And why did she have to ask about Jenny? Nothing else mattered in this room beside us. Regardless, I didn’t feel it was any of her business. I wouldn’t hold her past against her, so she shouldn’t hold mine against me.

  I rolled my neck to relieve some of the tension that had built up. I took a sip of my Scotch and concentrated on her eating instead of my jumbled thoughts. Her lips wrapping around the fork made me ache to have them wrapped around my cock. I shifted in my seat. I tried to think of nonsexual things, but it was hard when all I wanted to do was throw her on the bed and fuck my progeny into her.

  However, I swore to myself that I wouldn’t force her. No matter what, I wouldn’t take her against her will. My ego wouldn’t allow me to. I wanted her to beg for me, to yearn for the pleasure I planned to give her. I grinned despite trying not to. Oh, the pleasurable things I had planned for us.

  “What are you smiling at? You know that’s creepy right?” she asked with her mouth full of food.

  She was calm… too calm. She was speaking as if this was an everyday event. I tilted my head and studied her face. She stilled her fork midair then smiled at me. She smiled at me. Her smile wasn’t forced but I knew it wasn’t genuine. I was set to be confused until it dawned on me what she was doing. She was treating me like I was a fucking crazy man. She tried to make herself appear more human, trying to get on my good side so I wouldn’t harm her. She was tryi
ng to play me.

  So, she was going to make this fun?

  “You…” I chuckled. “You’re funny and cute,” I answered generically.

  She didn’t respond. She shoved baked potato in her mouth and stared at the wall behind my head. I could tell she was having some kind of internal conflict by the way her eyes darted back and forth and by the way her upper lip twitched. My first instinct was to ask her what was on her mind, but I didn’t. I wanted her to get in the habit of asking me whatever she wanted to know. I’d always answer her truthfully, without hesitation as long as it was something she needed answers to.

  I waited her out. Her right leg shook which told me she was fighting hard to remain silent. She looked up at me then back to her plate. She repeated that same action three or four times in a span of five minutes.

  “What are the meds in the cabinet for?” she blurted out.

  I hesitated for a bit to make her think I wasn’t going to answer her. She cast a nervous glance in my direction before letting her eyes scan the room. She fidgeted in her chair while I kept my face placid.

  Her chest heaved up and down. The fidgeting caused her breasts to bounce underneath her sheer top, her hard nipples straining against the fabric. I enjoyed the view. If not for that I would have answered her right away. As far as the pills? I had purposely left them in the cabinet for her to see. I wanted her to know our life together wouldn’t be without obstacles.

  “Prozac and Risperidone. Both well-known anti-psychotics,” I responded.

  I watched as her eyes shifted nervously from me to the food on her plate. Seconds that seemed like hours passed with us in silence. However, I could tell what she was thinking by her tight-lipped nonresponse.

  “Are you crazy?” she asked.

  I hadn’t expected her to come right out and ask. I didn’t think she had the nerve.

  “No, I’m not. I may be… slightly imbalanced. That is a better way to describe me,” I joked, but I was serious.

  Crazy was not knowing how to come back from madness. I always pulled myself back. She didn’t have to voice it, but the doubt was written all over her face.

  “Are auditory hallucination part of your ‘imbalance’?” She used finger quotes when she said imbalanced.

  I nodded but didn’t elaborate. I’d never told anyone how bad my episodes could get. That was something I would save for later, for when she understood me better. I rolled my shoulders and waited for her next question. The wait wasn’t long.

  She pushed her plate away. She’d barely eaten anything. “Why am I here?” Placing her elbows on the table, Eve steepled her fingers together then rested her head on them as she waited for an answer.

  I debated on whether I should tell her the truth. How would she react to knowing I’d watched her for four years and she was now mine whether she liked it or not? Maybe if I told her that I wanted her so I took her, it would sound a little less creepy. Then realized I’d sound crazy either way.

  “Tick tock, tick tock…what will you do?” that voice sang in my head.

  I ignored him and took a deep breath before I swallowed down the rest of my Scotch. I needed the drink before I told her the part I’d played in her freshman year. I started from the beginning of our story and told her everything, well almost everything. When I finished, she stared at me in utter disbelief. Her mouth opened like she was about to say something but quickly closed it again.

  She shoved away from the table and made her way to the bed. Eve slid under the fluffy white comforter and pulled it up to her neck like it could protect her. I said nothing, allowing her to be alone with her thoughts. Besides, there wasn’t anything I could say to make her understand why I’d done what I had. Sometimes I didn’t even understand it.

  I got up from the chair and took one last look at our plates. While she had barely eaten, I hadn’t even touched my food. I thought about eating, but quickly dismissed it. I’d eaten breakfast. It was well past midnight. Fatigue from the long day was setting in.

  I never took my eyes off Eve as I made my way across the room to the chaise lounge. Her face was blank of emotion. It infuriated me that I didn’t know what she was thinking.

  After I removed my shoes, I reached into the concealed ottoman and pulled out a blanket. I got as comfortable as I could. I watched her until she turned away from my gaze. I wanted so badly to lie beside her. We didn’t have to have sex. I just wanted to touch her, breathe her in, but I knew that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon.

  I pretended to be asleep until I heard her lightly snoring. Thirty-seven minutes. It had taken her thirty-seven minutes to fall into a comfortable sleep after I’d revealed I’d been watching her for years. That wasn’t normal.

  Normal women would be too scared to sleep. They’d be screaming and crying, trying to find a way to escape. They’d be afraid. Though she might have been genuinely frightened when she first woke up—even I would have been a bit put off after waking up tied to a bed with a familiar stranger watching me— however, after the initial shock wore off, she’d been running on anger.

  Her reaction confirmed to me what I knew all along; she was like me. I held my breath, careful not to wake her. I got up and walked as quietly as I could over to the bed. The thick carpet helped to mask my footsteps. She was lying comfortably on her back, legs spread and her mouth slightly ajar. She’d kicked the cover off. Her shirt had risen just below her breast and her hands lay on her inner thighs. Her smooth dark skin tempted me to touch. I dug my nails into my palms. It wasn’t time for that. We had more to discuss. There was so much more she needed to know.

  I wondered how she’d react when I told her I knew her secrets. All of them.

  S I X

  Eve’s sophomore year had been eye opening. By chance, I’d seen her out one Saturday night about three weeks after fall semester started. She was driving down a popular crowded strip that was lined with clubs. I’d walked away from my colleagues to follow her when she emerged from the parking garage.

  She was dressed differently than I’d ever seen her. Her wild curly hair was loose around her shoulders. She wore light makeup and her lips were painted blood red making her usually young face appear older, sensual. I kept my distance. Despite being in five-inch stiletto heels she moved quickly. Her steps never faltered. Her red bandage dress clung to her like a second skin. She walked with purpose, ignoring the men trying to get her attention. Many eyes were on her, but it seemed she hardly noticed.

  I followed her for nearly fifteen minutes. Fewer and fewer people surrounded us. It made me even more curious to see where she was going. Another block and we’d be in a residential area. Suddenly she turned short and walked down an alley way. She stopped at a building I recognized as an old cigar factory. She knocked and a guy the size of a body builder opened the door. She posed sexily allowing his eyes to roam over her voluptuous body. She spoke to him in a hushed tone for about a half a minute before he beckoned her inside, his hand at the small of her back just above her ass.

  I waited, peaking around the building into the dark alley. When I was sure she wasn’t coming back out, I followed her path and knocked on the door as she’d done. The same guy answered.

  He looked behind me then to each side of me. “No female companion?” he questioned.

  I shook my head.

  “Three-hundred bucks to come in alone,” he said and held his hand out after he’d given me the once over.

  I doubted the cover was as high as three-hundred, but because I wore an expensive black Armani suit, I guessed he figured I could afford it. I paid him in cash.

  I didn’t know what I expected when I walked into the building. Honestly, I had no expectation when I entered. From wall-to-wall the room was decorated in black and red. The walls were painted solid black. Red and black sofas sat scattered throughout. All in attendance were dressed in variations of red and black. The ones who had on clothes at least.

  Men and women of all ages, shapes, sizes and colors danced, talked, fond
led in different stages of undress. A large percentage were nude or in lingerie. A big neon sign hung from the ceiling like a disco ball read: INFERNO. A fast techno beat thumped from the speakers. Eve was full of surprises. I would have never imagined her in such a place.