Adam and Eva

by Sandra Kitt

  There was a pause, and slowly Maxwell came away from the wall and walked over to where she sat. Eva had the strangest sensation of being stalked by a predatory animal, stealthily moving upon her without making a sound.

  “I saw Milly Decker tonight. She asked about you.”

  Eva looked up. She realized now that Maxwell had been drinking. And although the words he spoke were clear and understandable, they were heavy and slow.

  “She said she had something to return to you.” As he talked, Adam slowly took his hand out of his pocket and threw something on the table in front of Eva. It was her worn red wallet.

  Eva stared at it blankly for a moment.

  “It was turned into the tourist office a few days ago on St. Thomas. All the money is gone, of course, but your ID and pictures are probably still there.”

  Eva raised her eyes to his. He was frowning at her, and her almond-shaped eyes were questioning. But Adam continued to talk.

  “I told Milly I’d see that you got it back. Her business card was inside, so it was sent back to her office first.”

  Eva realized by the inflection in Adam’s voice that he’d looked through the contents of the wallet himself. He’d discovered the money gone and looked at all her pictures…all of her history. Those of Gail as a baby and a wedding picture of her and Kevin. A picture taken by her mother at one of Gail’s birthday parties of the three of them together. Adam had looked into the very heart of what used to be her life. Eva hadn’t felt so vulnerable in a long time. Maxwell knew everything there was to know about her now.

  She absently opened and flipped through the wallet, watching familiar cards, pictures, tickets, whiz past her view in their familiar places. “Thank you,” she said in a very low voice, closing and snapping the wallet shut. There followed a long silence in which she didn’t look at Adam.

  “Why didn’t you say something?” Adam asked quietly, his deep voice nonetheless resounding in the open space. It was tightly controlled, disguising an emotion that Eva did not recognize because she was not used to Adam expressing it. “Why didn’t you tell me I was wrong about all those things I said…stop me from making a fool of myself?”

  “You did that all by yourself,” Eva corrected softly. “At the time I didn’t want your sympathy. We didn’t know each other. Kevin and Gail were—were my own personal hurt. There was nothing you could say or not say to change that, Maxwell.”

  Then she did look at him, determined to keep the sudden swelling of emotions and tears down. “My sorrow belongs to me and…I didn’t want to share it then.”

  Adam didn’t respond, but still frowned, his jaw working tensely. “You’ve really been through a lot…” There was a degree of admiration and respect in the way he phrased it. “You even look different. That is you in the picture, isn’t it?”

  She nodded silently.

  Adam slowly walked the length of the gallery and stood for a while looking out into the night all alone. Then he retraced his steps back to her. Eva never moved. The sudden silence locked them together in the narrow gallery. Adam reached her and continued to sweep over her with his troubled eyes, as if there were suddenly a dozen things about her he hadn’t seen before. When he spoke again, it was completely off the subject at hand. It threw Eva off guard, but she was grateful for the change to something else.

  “So…was that your, er, cabdriver from St. Thomas?” he asked.

  Eva sat straighter in her chair, lifting her chin defensively. “His name is Deacon,” she informed him clearly. “Yes. That’s him. He’s been very nice to me.”

  “I bet he has,” Adam drawled, his words again sounding thick.

  “I don’t like what you’re implying,” Eva said haughtily.

  “Are you telling me that…Deacon hasn’t come on to you? Hasn’t made the big play?”

  “No, he hasn’t.”

  “Then he must be slow. You know he wants to…”

  Eva scoffed softly. “You mean like you? If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were jealous!”

  Adam went livid. His jaw tightened and his eyes were dark and stormy. Eva involuntarily sat way back in her chair when he braced both hands on the table in front of her, leaning forward. “I don’t think there’s any comparison…”

  “I’m not likely to make that mistake! Deacon is a kind, sweet man. I can’t compare you to him,” she informed him angrily, striking back in any way that would get to him. She didn’t like his high-handed way with her, when she had no idea if he cared anything for her. It would have been different if he was expressing some real concern, but she knew Adam wanted one thing from her. Hadn’t Lavona said so?

  “And I don’t want to be compared to Lavona!” she blurted out in rising indignation, coming to her feet abruptly. Her nerves, feelings, and confusions were positively raw at the moment, and she ranted mostly out of a need to just release some of the anxiety. Since Adam Maxwell was indirectly the cause for most of it, she made him the target.

  Adam stared at her for a moment and then threw out his arms in a gesture of exasperation. “What the hell does Lavona have to do with this?” he stormed at her.

  “We both know what she wants from you, too! From any man for that matter. You have no right to assume that I am after a man for similar reasons! I was married to a wonderful man that no one can replace!”

  “Do you think Deacon’s serious?”

  “Maybe he is. What do you care? Anyway, I don’t intend to see him again. I—I don’t want to encourage him.” Eva was starting to shake. She hugged herself and turned away from Adam. She wanted him to hold her…not yell at her that way.

  “You’ve returned my wallet. You can go now. Back to Lavona’s waiting arms, for all I care! Just—just leave me alone.” Her voice threatened to break. But Adam was in no state either to recognize what she was experiencing or needed.

  Adam clicked his teeth impatiently, sighing deeply behind her. “I haven’t slept with Lavona since the day of Diane’s accident.”

  The confession surprised Eva, and she looked cautiously over her shoulder at him. “You don’t have to tell me that. It’s not my business.”

  “But it bothers you, doesn’t it?”

  “What does it matter?”

  Adam came to stand in front of her. He took her by the upper arms and shook her slightly. “It matters to me, dammit! Tell me!”

  Eva gasped at his reaction. She could smell the warm vapor of alcohol on his breath, and he was not as steady as he’d first seemed. His fingers were pressed almost painfully into her arms, but she made no move to free herself.

  “You’re—you’re both so indifferent! You don’t care about her, and she doesn’t care about you. You’re both just…using each other!”

  Adam’s frown deepened, and his eyes seemed distant and glazed. “And you’re not used to that, are you? You’re used to, what…tenderness? Respect? Love? Grow up, Eva. That’s not always possible.”

  Her chin began to quiver with the truth of his words. She knew he was right. But that still didn’t change need, desire, wanting to be held and touched. His hands gentled their grasp and were warm on her skin. “Maybe not. You’d know better than I would. But…should I accept anything less?” Eva’s eyes almost pleaded with him. She remembered Tuesday so well and the time on the sand of that little cove. She could so easily recall the feel of his hands, mouth, and body.

  Adam’s eyes swept over her in puzzlement as he felt her trembling. But he only let out an exhausted sigh and released her. “No…l guess you couldn’t. Not you,” he responded. Adam sat down heavily on the sofa and tilted his head back against the cushion. “You have to do what feels right to you. We all do.”

  Eva moved slowly nearer to him. “And you don’t care that it’s like that? Don’t you want more than that?”

  “Eva, more than that is a responsibility. Sometimes it wipes you out. Leaves you cold. You know what I mean?”

  Eva’s body slumped in defeat. “Yes…I know what you mean.”

/>   They were quiet for a long time, Eva watching him, trying to glean further understanding from him, of him. He closed his eyes. Eva wondered at his anger and vehemence and could attach no explanation to their arguing. She did notice the tired look to his face and furrowing of his brow.

  “I’ll make some coffee,” Eva offered. Adam merely nodded absently.

  In the kitchen her hands did the mechanical chore, while her mind and heart warred with each other. Her mind could reason, argue, fight with him about right or wrong or indifference. But her heart only knew desire. Adam was like no one she’d ever met before, perhaps someone she shouldn’t really know, could not hope to get next to. But she was drawn to him dangerously, like a moth to the bright orange and yellows of a candle flame. She could get hurt…badly burned…but all the arguments in the world weren’t going to change the way he made her feel. So far Adam had only touched on it, barely brought it to life. And Eva hoped that if it was allowed to be fully realized, that she wouldn’t sink beneath the tide of feelings and lose herself.

  She carried two cups of black coffee to the gallery. Maxwell was very still.

  “Maxwell?” She called his name softly. There was no answer, and his even, deep breathing told her he was asleep.

  Eva put his cup down on the table and sitting in a chair facing him, watched Adam thoughtfully as she sipped at her coffee. It suddenly dawned on Eva that this man had his own deep hurts and disappointments. She was not the only one to have survived a personal loss. Granted, hers was more tragic by its occurrence, but was his any less painful to him?

  She got up and lightly touched his shoulder, and once again called his name. Adam’s head gently rolled to the side away from her, and he slept on. Eva sighed and chewed her lip in indecision. She was aware that Diane and Dory were alone in the house down the road. But it was not so far from Dory’s parents, and so she figured that they’d probably be okay. Eva lightly spread the afghan over Adam’s chest and arms, and went back to her room to her own bed.

  It was much later when she again heard sounds in the night. It was almost like rain, but it seemed to be falling on only one part of the house. The sound completely awakened her, and her sleep-fogged brain fought to locate it. Eva opened her eyes and saw that the light from the gallery was still on.

  The sound stopped, and a moment later, Maxwell stepped from the bathroom shower, toweling himself. He was quiet and moved slowly, and Eva knew that if the shower itself hadn’t woken her, he would have tried to finish without her knowing.

  Eva rolled halfway onto her back facing him, a thin sheet for cover pulled just over her chest. Seeing Adam across the room, she hugged the sheet closer to her nakedness. Not since her first week had she worn a nightgown to bed, discovering that she woke in the morning drenched in sweat from too much covering.

  Adam stopped his toweling at the movements from the bed. He looked in her direction. “I woke up covered in sweat from that damned thing you put over me,” he rumbled in his resonant voice. Eva said nothing. She was too cognizant of the fact that Adam stood naked only a few feet from her. It was too dark in the room to distinguish any more detail than his outline, the movement of his arms with the towel, and the mass of dark hair on his broad chest.

  “You should have sent me home. I drank too much.”

  “Yes, I know. I tried to,” her voice came, a mere whisper, disembodied in the dark.

  “Did I get obnoxious?”

  “Yes,” she said honestly. Adam grunted.

  Then she knew that Adam was moving toward her where she lay in the large bed alone. Some warning flashed through her, some innate sense of the order of events told her what was about to happen. Her heart skipped beats in sudden agitation, and there was a fluttering of nerves in her stomach. But she never moved, and she said no more. It was an overwhelming provocative and tantalizing feeling to lie and wait for him to reach her.

  Adam towered over her, and then he slowly dropped the towel to the floor. Eva’s breath caught in her chest. He lowered his frame to the side of the bed, and it dipped gently under the weight. Eva tried to see his eyes. They would tell her all she wanted to know in this moment of discovery, but they were hidden by the dark.

  One of Adam’s hands reached over her body and braced on the bed. The other came up to search out the smooth contours of her face, gently. He located her lips and with his thumb, separated her lips, and pressed it against the lower rim of small white teeth. “You should have sent me home…” he repeated in a thick voice, as if he was placing the blame on her for anything that now took place.

  Then the hand at her mouth came down to locate the top of the sheet covering her and pulled it away. Adam couldn’t see her any better than she could him, but he easily located her breast and cupped his hand warmly, completely over one. The touch immediately evoked a chill through her as the hand was cool from the shower water. He squeezed the breast gently while she lay there unresisting, but under his hand he could detect the increase in her breathing. Maxwell’s fingers played gently and sensuously with the nipple of her breast. A warm languid sensation of delight and longing washed over Eva, and she knew she wanted this. She did nothing to stop him.

  When she didn’t move to object, Adam leaned forward to brush a warm, openmouthed kiss over her lips.

  “I want to make love to you,” he whispered low with a kind of urgency that Eva was at once susceptible to. One of her hands came up to brush over the thick soft top of his head. It was both a possessive and comforting move, and Adam took his signal from it. They may sometimes have been emotional antagonists in the light, but in the intimate darkness of her bedroom, they now both wanted the same thing.

  Not another word was spoken as Maxwell lifted the sheet away completely and moved onto the bed with her. Eva shivered once, almost violently, and a sigh escaped her parted lips as Maxwell shifted again to lie gently, full length upon her. He was a big man, but his weight was not uncomfortable on her. Eva raised her arms to his shoulder and Maxwell bowed his head to find her mouth and kiss her.

  Eva gave up the struggle of indecision. She wanted to be here with him. She thought not of the past or even of the future but allowed herself to just enjoy and experience the moment. She was beside herself with a rising desire and passion that was totally unlike anything she’d ever known before. It nagged and pulled at her insides, sending swirls of tension throughout her loins, and she gave herself up to it.

  She answered his kisses, his touch with her own. She savored the taste and texture of his tongue, the feel of his firm lips. She enjoyed and was excited by the pressing and rubbing of the furry mat of his chest on her sensitive breasts.

  Eva was not sure what to do, but Maxwell was not reticent. He was bold, but he was also surprisingly tender. Eva was unaware of the tears of relief that rolled unchecked down her cheek and into her hairline as Maxwell caressed her fevered body with knowledgeable gentleness.

  After a short time there was no hesitation on Eva’s part, and when he stroked her thigh, she responded. He moved slowly upon her, groaning softly in his total intimate possession of her. Their movements together became slow and rhythmic. For what seemed an eternity…and then not long enough.

  Each new feeling and tension built upon the old until there didn’t seem to be any place for it all to go. Their movements matched, becoming more exact and demanding. Eva felt a fullness within, she felt like an opened flower basking in the life-giving forces of a more omnipotent power. They held tightly together.

  Flashes of colored lights burst behind Eva’s eyelids and blood seemed to rush hotly to her head. She panted into his shoulder, calling his name. Eva was overcome. She hadn’t expected it to be like this. So…satisfying, and complete.

  Then Adam at last raised his head to search her face. Eva’s eyes were still closed, her breathing still softly hurried. He kissed her, and there was the faint taste of lingering alcohol on his tongue. Something in the way he kissed her told Eva that for Adam this moment was more than he’d expect
ed as well.

  She still couldn’t bring herself to look at Adam as she settled down from the most delicious sensual storm she’d ever known. Her body and responses belonged to someone else, a new Eva Duncan. She’d never been so abandoned with Kevin, and she’d loved him dearly. And she was also experiencing the inevitable shame and guilt. What must Adam be thinking of her, that he’d had no resistance to break down, no trouble issuing arousal and response that shook her from head to toe.

  Eva couldn’t tell what Adam was thinking, but he moved his head to rub his hard jaw along her cheek and to nuzzle in the furrow between her neck and shoulder. He smelled of healthy male sweat again and summer heat. He smelled of passion and virility, and she was intoxicated all over again.

  “Eva…I can’t believe how soft you feel,” he mumbled into her skin. A large damp hand slid up her thigh, causing the sensitive skin to quiver, up to her waist and rib cage to her small firm breasts. He moved the palm of his hand over the curved surface and there was an immediate response in the soft brown peak. “Not just your mouth, but…all over.” He kissed her neck, dragged his mouth to kiss a rounded shoulder. “Ummmmm…I like having you in my bed with me…”

  Eva voluntarily lifted her chin as his mouth sorted out the hollow of her throat and kissed it, too.

  “This is my bed, Maxwell,” she reminded him in a whisper. She could feel him chuckle, his body shaking.

  “A minor detail…” Suddenly he sobered. His eyes swept over her features, and a hand brushed over her cheeks where her tears had dried. “Are you sorry, Eva? Are you still afraid?”

  Eva’s small hands slid up his smooth muscled back to push her fingers into the tight curls of the hair on his nape. “No, Max, I’m not,” she said to both his questions.