by V. H. Luis
“They say people see in others what they can’t confront within themselves. Maybe it’s you who is hiding from something.”
His jaw stiffens, though before I can press the issue he recovers, his features smoothing out into what seems like practiced impassivity. “That’s a clever way of avoiding the subject.”
A conversation with him is like a spar between boxing opponents, exhausting and relentless. Finally caving to the mounting pressure, I step back, lifting my arms in exasperation. “You know what the weirdest part of this experience is? The fact that you, Mr. East Coast, commissioned me, a nobody, to paint a mural.”
“Mr. East Coast?” He laughs throatily. “That’s cute.”
“I’m serious!” Seeing him amused when I’m flustered pisses me off so without realizing, I’m yelling. “Why would you do that?”
His expression turns hard in a blink and sensing I’ve crossed a line, my muscles tense. Again he steps into my space, and though I’m nervous, I’m turned-on because there’s something arousing in his imposing stance. The mystery he exudes makes me want to push boundaries—it makes me want to be reckless.
“I asked you to do the mural,” he whispers low, “because I wanted you to paint something personal for me. I wanted a piece of who you are to call my own, because what I’ve seen so far is beautiful. And listen carefully, Evelyn, because more than anyone I’ve ever met I think you need to hear this—you didn’t disappoint. So I’d rethink the whole nobody title, since it obviously doesn’t fucking fit you.”
The blunt confession leaves me frozen, unable to speak. The look in his eyes is so steamy it’s sweltering around me. As my skin begins to burn, I’m overrun by emotions, though one in particular is stronger than the rest—desire.
“I… I’m happy you like the mural,” I murmur, not trusting myself to say anything else.
The corner of his lip twitches into a half-smile. “It’s a unique piece of art, though it is reminiscent of a Georgia O’Keeffe painting. The wide-open petals and the bright color make it an inviting flower. If you stare at it long enough, you could lose yourself.”
His eyes glint seductively. “I think you were preoccupied with interesting thoughts when painting this flower.”
Unable to resist, I laugh. Georgia O’Keeffe is often cited for her exploration of sexuality. Is this Adam Black’s refined way of easing the tension and talking about sex?
I meet his challenging gaze. “Yes, I do believe you’re right. Upon further self-reflection one particular thought did stand out while I painted.”
Adam’s mouth quirks up, wry amusement etched on his handsome features. “You’ve piqued my interest. What were you thinking?”
“That would be very telling, to confess something so personal.” I take a cue from him and lean forward. “I don’t think I’ll tell you.”
His tongue runs across his bottom lip. “You’re forgetting that I always get what I want.”
I inherently know his statement to be true. I can’t imagine anyone denying him. Yet, I want to provoke some measure of insecurity in this overly assured man, because he throws me a curveball at every opportunity.
“I suppose you’ll have to learn to live with disappointment.”
I should have expected the kiss. It appears to be his solution for my defiance.
My thoughts urge me to struggle. Push back, Evelyn; get the upper hand. I should play hard-to-get, but who am I kidding—I’m totally gotten.
He pushes his body against me and I stumble back because I’m not prepared for the impact. We land against the black leather couch.
I rub my hands along the curve of his muscular back while his lips plant enticing kisses across my neck. It tickles, but I’m too overtaken by desire to laugh. I lean into his mouth, against the sweet, moist sensation of his lips, dizzy with the rush of being in his arms.
“Do you want this?” he rasps as his hands continue their exploration of my writhing body.
Provoked by the scent of his skin, I nip at his ear because I have a need to make every inch of him mine. He groans in response. Oh, he likes that. I’ll keep doing it then.
“Evelyn,” he persists. “Do you want this?”
In a moment of clarity, the word sputters out. “Yes.”
He gives me a masculine grin of triumph. And then his hands are moving my thin black tank, raising it so it lies beneath my breasts. He kisses my stomach inch by inch, conquering me at an agonizingly slow pace. The sensation is too much to bear. I squirm against him, but his strong hands push me down, keeping me in place.
“Calm down, baby. We’re going to take this slow.”
His eyes lock on mine, and my muscles relax. Like that fateful day at the bank, the raw energy exuded by him ripples across my body, anchoring me.
He trails his tongue around my navel for several exquisitely long seconds. Then he takes a detour down my abdomen, until he’s stopped by the button of my cut-off shorts.
My fingers are twisting in the silky strands of his dark brown locks. I want to bring his lips to mine but the slow roll of his tongue on my skin makes organized thoughts impossible.
With ease, he unbuttons my shorts. The zipper soon follows. He moves above me, his arms flexed in a push-up position.
This man is gorgeous. He’s witty, intelligent, and he without a doubt wants me.
His touch is gentle as he guides the shorts off my legs, exposing my black satin underwear.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?”
I wiggle beneath him because the sincerity in his voice terrifies me.
He grabs hold of my chin, forcing me to stare into his dark blue eyes. “Maybe I should give you a reason to fidget, since you seem to love doing it so much.”
I lick my lips at the threat and that’s the only invitation he needs—he invades my mouth once again. I love the taste of this man.
Adam’s hands move up, cupping my breasts underneath my tank top, kneading them, his deft fingers pinching my nipples with perfect, precise pressure. My back bows at the stimulation. Then his fingers are trailing the ridges of my ribs, sliding over the hills of my body and caressing the muscles of my back. He unsnaps the clasp of my bra, and in one fluid movement he yanks my clothing over my head. I’m practically naked in front of him, wearing only my panties, though to my surprise, I’m not nervous.
His sultry eyes fall on my bare breasts and then his lips are on me. The feeling of his wet mouth on my chest makes my nipples harden. My body convulses. Chills run across my skin as a pulsing warmth builds between my legs.
He’s still fully clothed and the sight bothers me. I move my fingers toward his chest, pulling on the buttons of his shirt. I’m struggling, so he helps, and as the shirt falls to floor I finally view Adam’s chiseled pecs. Fine dark hairs form perfect patterns on the defined muscle. Feeling possessive, I run my hands up his sternum, but before I can relish the experience he grabs my wrists, my bangles jingling at the touch and hauls me against him.
“Wrap your legs around me.” His voice is gruff and so damn sensual.
I hug him close to my body, planting kissing on his neck as I tangle around him like a wild vine.
He stands, his hands gripping my thighs tight.
We’re moving, though I have no idea where we’re going. My back pushes against a door, a second after Adam’s attentive hand protects my head from the impact. The sound of sliding leather echoes in the hushed darkness and then his belt thumps on the floor. The bulge of his growing erection rubs against my underwear, and I push against him.
Any man would take the action as an invitation to possess me, but not Adam Black. It’s obvious he wants to savor the conquest.
His tongue lingers at the edge of my mouth, caressing my lips with leisure strokes. The tender action startles me, because I don’t want him to be gentle. This is just sex. I won’t let myself believe that he cares for me.
I pivot my chin, forcing his mouth to part from mine. In the darkness of the room only the faint outline
of his face is apparent.
“What do you want?” he says softly, a hint of confusion in his voice.
I don’t know why, but I’m honest. “I don’t want to think too much.”
I rub my cheek alongside his and the scuff of his stubble helps me focus.
“You were right when you said there was an attraction between us from the second we met. I want to run with this feeling.” I dig my nails into his back and he gives me the sexiest grin I’ve ever seen. “I want you to lose yourself in me because that’s what I plan to do with you.”
“So you’re using me?” Amusement warms his tone.
“We’re using each other.”
He opens his mouth to likely dispute my statement, but I don’t let him speak. Leaning forward, I kiss him with a passion born from his caresses; it’s obvious that everything faded from his mind except the visceral urge to take what I’ve willingly given.
Sweat is misting over our pressed bodies. It’s hot, sticky, and sinful—everything sex should be because it’s based on primal instincts.
He pulls our tangled bodies away from the door and carries me over to a large bed at the center of the room.
I gaze at him as he retrieves something from the nightstand, though in the darkness I’m not sure what it is. He undoes his fly and discards his pants. Standing before me is a nude Adam Black.
My mouth dries at the sight. It’s the type of image that provokes wet dreams, and for a second I wonder if I am dreaming. Adam’s deep voice gives me my answer.
“Don’t forget to breathe, Evelyn.”
He leans down, towering above me and intimidating me with his large stature. All of a sudden his expression is serious. I gulp as I peer at this man who has so easily conquered me.
“I didn’t think this would happen…that we would be in this situation.” The words escape me before I can even think.
His response is absolute and confident, so him. “I did.”
Then his lips are against mine, silencing me. I welcome the interruption. You can shut me up like this any day of the week.
Trailing his hand up my thigh, he finds the edge of my underwear and his fingers slip inside, brushing up against my opening. I arch my back and moan. Just that subtle touch has me throbbing with the need to come.
Adam pushes a finger inside me as he rubs my clit with his thumb, and I clench greedily around him.
“Fuck. You’re tight.” He groans as his lips press kisses between my breasts. “And so wonderfully wet.”
I don’t bother to answer because he’s right.
His rhythm follows the swaying movements of my hips, which rise shamelessly to meet his hand. In and out, tantalizingly slow at first, and then his shallow thrusts increase. As he suckles the peaks of my hardened nipples in turn, he eases another finger into me, and a low whimper escapes my lips because I’m hovering on the edge of an intense orgasm.
“Let go, baby.” His tone is urgent, yet tender.
At the endearment, my vision blurs and an effervescent sensation erupts throughout my body as I go over the edge. I’ve never orgasmed like that, it’s so consuming it’s hard to breathe. I’m glistening with sweat and my heart is racing.
He leans down and kisses me, triumph cast across his features. “You look so sexy when you come.”
I stare at him wide-eyed. I’m exposed. My legs spread and his hand gripping me, his fingers still inside of me—I’m vulnerable. I want to regain some measure of control, but he has me mesmerized.
Adam’s throaty chuckle reverberates against my chest.
Words haven’t been spoken, but he knows I’m letting my insecurities torment me. How can this man read me like a book?
He grabs hold of my chin and rubs one of his fingers against my lips, smearing them with the evidence of my orgasm. “You have the prettiest lips, so full and smooth.” He leans down and kisses me.
Tasting the saltiness of my release as our mouths press together, the trepidation I feel melts away under my arousal. It’s not a question of want, but need. If he doesn’t make me his now, I’m going to lose my mind.
Adam pulls back, tugging at my panties, and the caress of the fabric as it trails across my skin makes chills cascade down my form.
His eyes take in the sight of my naked body and the heave of his chest makes it apparent that he likes what he sees. Reaching for the item he previously retrieved from the nightstand, I now see it’s a condom.
My swollen flesh tingles with renewed excitement. God, this man is perfect. Every inch of his body is rippling with muscles. My gaze lingers between his legs; he’s hard like stone, a thick, long pillar of eager flesh tilting up in rigid readiness. The sight does more than turn me on—it scares the hell out of me because he’s big, and I’ve never actually done this. Is it going to hurt? Should I say something?
Before I have a chance to think, Adam is moving between my parted thighs. The tip of his cock edges between the folds of my sex and in one fluid movement he thrusts deep. My muscles stretch, and I cry out in pain at the burning sensation.
Adam stills. He stares down at me and even in the darkness I can see his shock. “Are you a virgin?”
He wants to talk about this now?
The timing of his question, the taut inflexibility of his suddenly tense body blanketing mine, the sheer panic of knowing that my past is once again encroaching on my opportunity for even a sliver of happiness, makes me shake my head in denial. This can’t happen… I won’t let it happen.
I move my pelvis against him and bite back a wince. It does hurt, because I am a virgin and this is the first time I’ve attempted to be with a man in years, but I can’t give him the real story. Doing that would be too intimate for what we’re sharing. This is a random fuck, and nothing more. So I say the first thing that comes to mind, “Don’t be ridiculous.”
He doesn’t seem convinced and he has yet to move. Tears begin to well in my eyes, and I know if we stop he’ll see how fucked-up I am. This can’t end. Not now, not like this. I show him through my ravenous kiss that I want this. I want him. I need him.
With his arms propped at my sides Adam pulls out so that the tip of his cock edges my opening and the next thrust is slow and gentle. My body acclimates to the intrusion and we quickly form a rhythm.
He grabs the back of my thighs and shifts them up so my legs wrap around his hips. It’s different from this angle, sharper. I run my nails down his back because I want to elicit a response from him, and I’m successful. The tempo between us quickens as he pounds against me. My muscles convulse and I can sense by his ragged breathing that his own climax is building.
The sting of his drives is better than every cut I’ve ever given myself. It hurts, but in the most marvelous way, because in that moment I’m alive. All the shit haunting me shifts into the background and I let go.
“Oh…God…Adam!” I utter between gasps.
My cries make him increase his speed, his cock pushing against the clamping fist of my throbbing sex as he reaches his own orgasm.
“Fuck!” he groans. Then his broad shoulders shudder, his forearms flex, and those beautiful eyes of his dilate with sexual euphoria.
Spent, he lies on top of me, his cheek nuzzling against the swell of my breasts and his arms framing the curves of my body. He’s heavy, but I love the heat he’s radiating.
The only noise in the room is our labored breaths and as the afterglow fades, I wonder what will happen next. I don’t know how to face him. I don’t know what to say.
Adam rolls over on his back, withdrawing from me. The sensation is odd, and a brief pang of regret intrudes as our intimate moment ends. He pulls the condom off, tying the end and tossing it in the wastebasket by the nightstand. Again he’s lying next to me on the bed.
“Fuck… That was amazing.” His voice sounds young.
I blink a few times and then burst into laughter because his comment is so unexpected. My anxiety dissipates. “I never expected you to be so crass.”
He g
rins at me wickedly. “You’ll find that I am only on special occasions.”
“Am I to assume that we will continue our tawdry affair for some time?” I sound calm, but I’m anything but.
He sits up and tilts his head to the side as he watches me. His expression is so serious it makes squirm.
“Don’t do that,” he clips out.
Startled by the reprimand, I whisper, “Do what?”
“Let your insecurities make you doubt what just happened between us.”
I’m stunned by his statement. Am I so transparent? My eyes dart to the sheets because I can’t bear to face him.
Adam grabs my chin, lifting my gaze to his unyielding eyes. “You’re far too pretty to be constantly cast down.”
I smile because the conviction in his voice almost makes me believe him.
He frowns. “The way you reacted when I pushed in, it seemed as if you were hurting. For a minute I genuinely thought you were a virgin.”
I lunge forward, taking him by surprise with a passionate kiss because I don’t know another way of avoiding the conversation. This moment is perfect. I’m wrapped in the arms of this smart, successful, and surprisingly caring man. I don’t want the shadows of my past to ruin the moment, and to my delight they don’t.
Adam allows the distraction and once again we lose ourselves between the sheets. The world stills, and for the next few hours only he matters.
Chapter Eight
MICHAEL’S MOUTH IS open in awe. His shameless gawking makes me cover my exposed breasts.
“Stop staring at me like that. You’re making me self-conscious.”
“Babe, I can’t help it. You have really nice boobs.”
I laugh. Michael’s never been much of a wordsmith but the fact that we’re about to have sex has made his already questionable eloquence nonexistent. Am I sure I want to do this? Do I want to go against everything I know—everything I’ve been taught—and sleep with him?
Michael doesn’t give me time to hesitate. He cups my breast while giving me a deep kiss—his tongue is plunging into my mouth repeatedly with pent-up need, and the quick way his chest pushes against mine as he pants makes it obvious he’s ready to seal the deal.