Adam & Eve- a Tale of Obsession

by Shantel Davis

  I watched three girls dance before it was my turn. I shook my head at the rhythmless bouncing and gyrating they did. It didn’t seem to matter that they couldn’t dance on beat. The men still hooted and hollered while throwing bills at them.

  By the time I went on stage, fifty to sixty more people had come in, mostly men. A handful of women sat around drinking and smoking. I walked onto the stage to whistles and catcalls. I was nervous but calmed myself with deep breaths.

  The DJ called my name. I hadn’t felt the need to make up one. He seemed to believe it was fake anyway when I told him. The song, the one that would become what I called my theme song, the one I would dance to every time I danced, came on.

  I closed my eyes because I wasn’t brave enough to look at the faces in the crowd at first. I let the feeling overtake me. I moved my body, swaying my hips to the beat. I didn’t even attempt to touch the pole. I was not flexible enough for it and I cringed at the thought of all the germs the other girls had left behind from rubbing their bare asses and pussies on it.

  I did what came naturally; felt the beat and moved my body until I was comfortable enough to open my eyes. When I did money was raining down on me while some people stared in awe. I felt powerful, renewed and bold. I dropped to the floor then crawled over to a man. His black business suit looked expensive. His tan skin and chiseled face made him attractive.

  I concentrated only on him. I got on my back and spread my legs exposing my slick center to him. He stood, looked as if he wanted to touch, even extended his hands to do so, but stopped himself. Pulled away after glancing behind me at the bodyguard that stood at the back of the stage. He frowned, but that didn’t stop him from raining down five and ten-dollar bills that he had folded in his hands onto me.

  When the song ended— way too soon in my opinion— everybody applauded, and I wanted to dance again. I felt electric. Every part of me pulsed. I was addicted. I walked off stage like I had been instructed to do by Heather. I left the money behind like she told me. Someone would collect it for me. I looked back before exiting the stage and couldn’t believe all that money was mine to keep.

  Later that night, when I counted all the bills. I couldn’t believe I’d made twelve-hundred dollars after dancing less than fifteen minutes. It would last me the rest of the semester, until my loan money came again. I was tempted to go back the next weekend, but after that night, I no longer danced for money. Profiting from it had made me feel dirty, made it feel elicit. I never returned to that club.

  I researched, found parties with people who had fetishes. Through that I learned I was an exhibitionist. Exhibitionist disorder was a mental health disorder shared by those who liked to expose themselves for sexual gratification. I embraced the idea. Why lie to myself? I’d masturbated and came like I never had before that first night I danced.

  I delved right in with both feet. Party after party, I danced. It helped with making me love my body again. It also chased away demons of the past.

  “Are you okay in there?” Adam called from behind the bathroom door.

  I ignored him and cut off the water that had turned cold. I was shivering and hadn’t even noticed because I was so caught up in my thoughts and memories.

  I answered after he knocked a third time. “Yeah, be out in a minute.”

  I pushed the thoughts of dancing and him knowing about it to the back of my mind. In the long run, it didn’t matter. I grabbed a towel to dry myself then slipped on my shirt and underwear before looking at myself in the mirror for the first time. I looked different than I had yesterday, more relaxed. How could that be? My eyes didn’t reveal the answers. I didn’t dwell on the thought long. I had bigger fish to fry.

  My wet hair, natural and curly, hung down to the middle of my back. I searched for something to tame it under the sink. The first thing I saw was a blow dryer and flat iron. They were the same ones I had at my house, the ones I’d saved for months to buy, both in unopened boxes.

  I was not at all surprised by them being there. The shock of him knowing intimate things about me had worn off. I pushed them to the side and behind them was a first aid kit on one side of a shelf, and on the other side, a long plastic container with a white top. I opened it and found hair ties, combs and hair products: olive oil, shea butter, coconut oil and everything else I used.

  He really had been watching me and taking notes. I shook away the creepiness of it all. It wouldn’t help for me to start freaking out again. I grabbed the olive oil and squeezed some into my hand then rubbed it throughout my hair. Without combing or brushing it, I tied it into a ponytail at the nape of my neck, tucking the hanging hair under.

  I unlocked the door, opened it and was startled to find that Adam stood in the same spot he had the first time I came out of the bathroom. this Time he held a bottle of cocoa butter.

  “Lotion? I could rub it on you if you want,” he offered.

  “Are you going to wait outside the bathroom door every time I use it, you perv?”

  I pushed past him. He grabbed my wrist, pulled me to him, then trapped me between his body and the wall. “That’s not very nice, pushing me,” he whispered playfully, while running his fingers up my exposed arms.

  Goosebumps broke out on my skin.

  “Move please,” I demanded between gritted teeth, mad at myself for not being as repulsed by his touch as I should have been.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” was his response against my ear. He trailed the lobe of it with his tongue causing my entire body to tremble and butterflies to take flight in my stomach. I fought against the need to touch him. “Open your eyes and look at me. I want to see your eyes.”

  I hadn’t even realized I’d closed them, but I was going to keep them closed. Was too afraid of what he’d see.

  “So much fight in you,” he crooned, then eased his warm hand underneath my shirt until he was palming my breast. He teased my nipple between his fingers. A soft whimper forcefully escaped my mouth. “It’ll be so rewarding when you break and beg me to fuck you,” he whispered against my lips.

  Those words yanked me out of whatever haze I’d been in. My eyes shot open. I sneered at him. “I’ll never beg you for anything,” I spat.

  He laughed. “Eventually you will, Eve. Your body’s already begging for it,” he taunted.

  Aggravated, I pushed past him. This time he let me. I headed for the food. I sat down and picked up a fork full of fluffy eggs and put them in my mouth. I shouldn’t have been surprised they were just how I liked them, whisked with milk and scrambled in butter. I pretended that episode against the bathroom wall never happened.

  Adam walked over and sat down across from me with a hurt expression on his face. I could tell it was fake. I noticed his hardened manhood pressing against the opening of his boxers.

  “I wanted to lotion your body, and all you want to do is eat. I thought you weren’t hungry,” he said.

  I ignored him.

  T E N

  After eating, she sat silently, pensively with her head down while studying her hands. She was deep in thought, and while I wanted to know what her thoughts were, I wouldn’t push her. I couldn’t stop myself from touching her though. It was my way of letting her know I was there when she was ready to talk. I reached across the table and laced our fingers together. Her gaze moved up to my face. She didn’t speak, but her eyes told me not to touch her.

  It was amusing. I liked the fact that she wasn’t pretending with me right now. It had been less than forty-eight hours with us here together and she’d shown me new sides of herself. She was human, flawed and unafraid to let me know her emotions. People being completely real with me was not something I’d experienced much of in life. The people who usually took up space in my everyday life were fake, plastic, and rehearsed. Even my parents lied for me.

  She tilted our hands back and forth as she studied them. I ignored her and enjoyed the feel of her soft skin against mine. She snatched her hand away and stood up abruptly, almost knocking over he
r chair. I didn’t react.

  “How long do you plan on keeping me here?” she snapped.

  “As long as it takes.”

  I had an inkling as to what her next question would be. It would be easy for me to answer it without her asking, but I liked her voice; low and melodious, sweet, and southern. After four years of her barely acknowledging me—only a word here another there— I needed to hear her speaking to me.

  She looked away. Her thumb on her free hand went to her mouth and she bit at the skin on the side of her nail. She was nervous. I’d seen her do that often. I always wondered how the skin stayed so smooth and unscarred.

  “As long as what takes?” Her voice trembled.

  I thought about it. If I told her the truth, I knew she would only pretend to cooperate in order to be set free. I’d fall for it because I was weak and starved for her attention.

  I said, “There’s no specific agenda or time frame.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s not vague at all, Adam.” She sat down then crossed her hands in her lap. “How about an easier question? Where am I?”

  “In a room in our home.”

  Her brows knit together. Confusion blanketed her face. “Our home? As in yours and mine?”

  “Yes. I had it built specifically for you and me.”

  “But—” she started then stopped, violently shaking her head. “No, I’m not even about to attempt to unpack that.”

  I didn’t want her to shut down on me just because my answers hadn’t been satisfactory to her. I asked, “Anything else you want to know?”

  “How did you know?”

  “How’d I know what?”

  She bit down then chewed at her bottom lip with her eyes downcast. “About the dancing—how’d you know I danced?”

  I didn’t hesitate to tell her about that night, the first night I saw her and the many nights I followed her after. I told her everything except of course about what happened to the guy and my note to her. No need to rock the boat.

  “Wow, I was really dense. I never thought to pay attention to my surroundings. I could have been really hurt. Damn.” She lowered her head to the table.

  I wanted to comfort her. Tell her that I wouldn’t have let anyone hurt her, but I knew she didn’t want to hear that. I remained quiet. The silence was deafening. I wished she would say something, even if all she did was curse at me. I thought about things to do to distract me. I ate then read over the paper. When I was done she still hadn’t said anything or moved much at all. Thirty minutes of it was all I could take

  “You want to watch some TV? Read maybe?” I asked.

  That got her attention. She glanced up at me. There was a look of bewilderment on her face. I pointed to the corner of the room on the wall across from the bed. A laptop and tablet sat next to a 32-inch flat screen television. She turned and looked at them and then back at me strangely.

  “Were those here before?” she asked.

  “No. I had them delivered, and I set them up while you showered,” I said.

  She eyeballed me then the electronics suspiciously.

  “Wifi?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  She asked, “Can I send emails?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think I would be able to, but it never hurts to ask.” She hopped up and headed toward the new TV, but then she stopped and turned to face me. “Are you planning on killing me?”

  I was almost offended by the question but knew I had no right to be. I pushed back against the rise of irritation before I answered. I couldn’t blame her for thinking the worst of me.

  “No, of course not,” I said.

  “Good. After what you told me, I don’t think I’m ready to die anymore, not today at least.” She gave me the first genuine smile she’d given me since that night at my wedding.

  My pulse raced. I watched as she walked over to the electronics and picked up the tablet. She typed something, waited, and then sat down. The sounds of a game filled the room.

  “You know I can feel you staring at me, right?” she asked without looking up from her game.

  “Does it bother you?”

  “Yes, but I figure you’re not going to stop, so it’s just going to take some getting use to.”

  I got up from my chair then made my way over to the bed. I slid in next to her then pulled her feet into my lap. She paused then cocked her head in my direction when I started massaging one.

  “What are you doing?” she asked with a raised brow.

  Her whole body had gone rigidly still.

  “Relax,” I said. “Keep playing.”

  It took her a while, but she nodded then turned her eyes back to the screen. This was how I’d always imagined us.

  E L E V E N

  It was day five. We were eating breakfast, pretending the situation we were in was normal when it was anything but. It had started to feel normal though. I could admit that. Adam sat across from me in boxers and a t-shirt with his perfect hair messed up—perfectly. He was reading the newspaper. Not from his phone or tablet like normal people, but an actual newspaper.

  Every morning it arrived with breakfast, and he read every single page. It was unusual for 2018 since everyone’s cell stayed glued to their hand. Somehow, I found it endearing. And that bothered me. Nothing about him was supposed to be appealing, but it was. He looked happy and content. That annoyed me

  “I can feel you staring, why?” he asked.

  “Because I’m curious,” I said.

  He took the time to neatly fold his paper and place it on the table before giving me his full attention.

  “About?”

  “The very first day we met. Would I be here if I had said yes to coffee?”

  “So, you do remember?” he asked.

  “Somewhat, now that I’ve thought back.”

  “To be honest, Eve, I don’t know.”

  I didn’t believe him. He knew. He just avoided telling me things he thought I wouldn’t like to hear.

  “Interesting,” I said.

  “Is it?” He shifted and readjusted himself in his seat.

  “Yes. The fact that such an inconsequential moment in time could change my entire life is very interesting.”

  “Inconsequential?” He frowned, drawing his brows together. “I wouldn’t call the moment that changed our destinies inconsequential.” He spat inconsequential out like it had turned sour in his mouth.

  I shrugged, not caring about his change in mood. “It was inconsequential to me. You were just another man trying to get some pussy.”

  His frown deepened. “Is that what you thought, Eve?”

  “That’s what I know, Adam. That look in your eyes, the lust in your voice, the hard dick you tried to hide behind your briefcase. So typical.”

  “Now that’s interesting,” he said, mocking my earlier words with a condescending smirk on his lips.

  “How so?”

  “You didn’t remember that day at all at first. Now you remember every detail of it.”

  “Don’t read anything into it. Like I said, it was only after I thought about it.”

  “Hmmm” he hummed in disbelief.

  I rolled my eyes, wishing I’d never brought it up.

  “You know what I think, Eve?”