Waking to Black

by V. H. Luis

  His expression is tender and open, and I realize these moments are rare. “You want a truthful answer?”

  I nod.

  “At the bank, I thought you were attractive, but it was the way your heart pounded against mine that captured my attention. Maybe it was the situation, the adrenaline coursing through my veins, but as crude as it is to admit, I wanted to fuck you right there and then.”

  I open my mouth to protest, to deny his brazen admission when he presses a finger to my lips.

  “I’m not done,” he says firmly. “I took you home and when I realized the attraction between us was too strong to dismiss, I made the decision to pursue you. I thought I would contact you, we would see each other a few times, that I would sleep with you and sate my curiosity.”

  My eyes narrow. He was only interested in sleeping with me?

  “I am, as you so aptly put it, an asshole. I’ve never denied this.” He shrugs. “Something unexpected happened, though—I saw your paintings. Then at Art Basel, it was as if fate was throwing us together. We crossed paths and had our conversation.” He grins at the memory. “The way you spoke about the Vasquez photographs surprised me. You challenged me at every turn and I knew I wanted your sharp-witted lips against mine, that if I didn’t possess you it would drive me crazy.”

  “And now that you’ve conquered me? Is your curiosity sated?”

  He grabs me and with little effort pulls me onto his lap. His hand grips my chin and he shifts me so I’m facing him, only inches away from his tempting lips.

  “I’m not so certain you’re conquered.” He brushes his lips against mine in a soft kiss that rapidly gives way to passion. “Fuck… I want to be inside you again,” he says between kisses, his lips caressing mine as they move.

  I’m pressing my body against his when the clicking of heels makes me stiffen in shock. Adam looks amused as he stands with ease, as if the notion of being caught partially naked on the floor is not even remotely horrifying. He tucks himself in his pants, then extends his hand and lifts me onto my feet. With haste we dust ourselves off, and in the process I realize I don’t have my panties. I peer over to the entrance as Lillian Black walks into the greenhouse, her gown blowing against the wind.

  “Adam…” I whisper. “My panties!”

  He grins and takes a few steps forward toward the tattered garment. Adam places his foot over the black lace, concealing the evidence of our intimate encounter. He turns to face his approaching mother.

  “Adam, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  Adam’s chuckle is smooth and unperturbed. “I’ve been busy showing Evelyn around.”

  His mother nods and looks over at me. “How do you like the greenhouse?”

  I have to fight the blush threatening my cheeks. “I doubt anything I say could do the place justice. It’s gorgeous.”

  “I’ve considered remodeling the space, fixing the aged bricks, but part of me likes the wild atmosphere created by the encroaching vines.”

  “I wouldn’t change a thing,” I say firmly.

  “Evelyn is fond of flowers, of anything dealing with nature, I think.”

  Mrs. Black nods with a smile. “Oh, Adam, the Children’s Care benefit, you are going tomorrow, correct? I know your father expects you to attend.”

  “Yes, I’ll be there, Evelyn will be coming with me.”

  I will? Adam and I seriously need to work on our communication.

  Lillian Black’s eyes widen. An odd expression crosses her face for a brief moment and then she nods. “Oh, that’s wonderful.”

  My hands fidget as I watch Mrs. Black. I get the impression she doesn’t want me to go, and the entire situation—my lack of panties, the I’ve just been fucked flush on my face—has my heart working overtime.

  “I need to head back to the party.” She turns her attention to Adam. “Mathew has decided to visit. Have you spoken to him?”

  The calm expression on his face evaporates. “I had the pleasure.”

  Mrs. Black purses her lips as if she’s going to speak, but after a few seconds she shakes her head. “Oh, and Mr. Rivera has been asking about you. Something related to a business proposition?”

  “We were just heading back to the party. I’ll be sure to find him.”

  The way Adam speaks gives me chills. This man is so disconnected from the people in his life. His outward façade usually exudes charm, and though he’s always polite, moments of happiness seem fleeting. What torments him so?

  “Don’t keep him waiting long. You know he’s an impatient man.” She smiles at us. “Well, I better go see what your father is doing.” Mrs. Black turns and walks out of the greenhouse.

  My eyes drift to Adam. I move toward him, wrapping my arms around his body. I don’t want him to be upset. I don’t want the intimacy we shared a few minutes ago to disperse like smoke in the air.

  “We should get back to the party.” His hand slides to the small of my back, the hold rigid and tense.

  “You seriously want to take me out there? What if a gust of wind were to hit us? Imagine the scene I’d make.” I don’t bother to hide the naughty grin on my face, since I learned it from him.

  He laughs, his body relaxing in seconds. Adam bends and retrieves the tattered remains of my panties. “I need five minutes to placate my mother and talk to this man. Then we can revisit our pre-party activities in the limo,” he whispers in my ear. “And if a gust of wind strikes, you better make sure to hold your dress down. You may not have noticed, but I can be a very jealous man.”

  It’s my turn to laugh. “Really? You’re the type that gets jealous?” I gaze at him with mock surprise.

  Adam grabs my ass in a tight grip, making me squeal. “I’ll make you pay for that later.” He grins and gives me a quick kiss.

  We walk out of the greenhouse holding hands. His strong palm against mine is reassuring, especially considering my ruined panties are crumpled in his pants pocket and the eyes of jealous women are on me as we start to mingle with the crowd. Once we reach Mr. Rivera, Adam politely introduces me. A few minutes later I excuse myself as they continue their conversation so I can visit the powder room. My recent activities have made me self-conscious. Adam’s semen is sliding between my legs, and the confidence I had when I walked out of the greenhouse is slowly fading as a small measure of Catholic shame creeps up on me. At least you’re whoring it up with a handsome, rich, charming man. I push away the mean thought.

  I enter the house and make my way to the restroom when I’m once again halted by the sound of voices. I hear the loud groan of a woman and a knowing blush forms on my cheeks. A few minutes ago I was in the same position, so it’s oddly comforting knowing I’m not the only harlot at the party. I push the restroom door open, deciding I’ll ignore the passionate noises emanating from my left, when I hear three dreaded words.

  “No. Don’t. Stop!”

  The voice is familiar, but the pitch is odd. I walk to the left, slowly making my way down the hall, and the sound of the protesting voice gets louder.

  “Not here. We can’t! It’s my party, we should get back.”

  My eyes widen at the realization that it’s Sarah’s voice I hear.

  “That’s the fun, baby. While everyone’s out there waiting for you, you’re in here getting fucked by me.”

  “Markus, stop it. Get off me!” Sarah yells.

  At this point, I’m in a panic. Should I go and get Adam? Should I barge into the room? I hear the sound of furniture grating against the floor and Sarah’s loud shriek. I go with my gut and storm into the room with my eyes narrowed and my fists balled at my sides. The door bangs as it hits something and I get the opportunity to survey the room. It’s a library.

  Sarah is bent over a table, her dress pulled up, and though she’s still wearing underwear, Markus’s hands are between her legs. My eyes meet hers and the horror on her pale face is startling. Markus shifts his attention to me. We all stare at one another for a few long seconds until Sarah manages to s
quirm away from Markus’s control. She pulls her dress down with embarrassment.

  I take a few brave steps into the room, getting closer to Sarah, and when I reach her I extend my hand. “Let’s go.”

  She grabs my hand and as we reach the door Markus closes it and stands in front of us. I pull her behind me because she’s crying, her entire body trembling.

  “You know, this could work,” Markus says in a slur as he moves toward me. “We can have our own little party here, just the three of us.”

  I turn my face to the side as I smell the liquor on his breath. My heart is pounding like a jackhammer against my ears. Be rational, Evelyn. Talk your way out of this. I steel myself and stare into Markus’s menacing face.

  “Adam knows where I am; he’ll come looking for me soon,” I say with vehemence.

  He laughs. “That guy is a fucking pussy. I think you could do better.”

  Markus moves his hand along my hip, lifting my dress slightly, and I quickly slap his hand away, though the action seems to excite him since he continues to move forward. Shit! I’m in a room without panties, with a drunken asshole. I have to fight the panic overwhelming me.

  Markus persists in a low, garbled voice. “I bet you do all types of nasty shit when you’re getting fucked. Adam is easily bored, everyone knows that. You’d have to be a little freak in the bedroom to keep him interested.”

  “Markus, you’re drunk! Quit being such a fucking moron.” Sarah’s says a bit steadier, though she’s still crying.

  Markus blinks a few times as he looks between Sarah and me, his eyes finally gaining some measure of sense. He takes a step back and straightens his jacket. “Girls, come on, I was only messing around.” He chuckles and though he appears to be calm, a hint of apprehension lingers in his voice. “It was a poor joke. I’m sorry.”

  I take a step back and stand next to Sarah.

  “I think you should leave, Markus,” Sarah says coldly.

  “Baby, it’s your birthday. I don’t want to leave you alone.” His voice is still showing signs of inebriation, though he is attempting to control his slurring speech.

  Sarah opens her mouth to speak, and I grab her wrist and squeeze, stopping her. I smile at Markus. “Why don’t you go back to the party and we’ll follow you in a minute.” I’ve dealt with drunk people before; it’s better to placate them and make them think you agree with whatever nonsense they’re sputtering.

  Markus narrows his eyes on us. He looks over at Sarah and once again I squeeze her wrist, hoping the subtle gesture convinces her to cooperate. She smiles mechanically at Markus.

  “Baby, go back to the party. I need to freshen up,” she says in a practiced sweet tenor.

  Markus grins and combs his fingers through his disheveled hair. “Don’t keep me waiting. You know how I miss you when you’re gone.” Stumbling a bit as he walks, he exits the room.

  I turn to face Sarah, who’s sitting on the leather couch in the center of the room. She’s shaking her head and her hands are pressed against her crimson cheeks.

  “Are you okay?” I whisper.

  “He’s not like that very often. Honestly, most of the time he’s charming, but when he drinks too much he becomes such an ass.” Her feet are tapping nervously as she speaks.

  “I’m not exactly in the position to be offering unsolicited advice, but you deserve better. You sounded…” I shrug, unsure of what else to say.

  “Scared.” A bitter laugh emanates from her parted lips. “I don’t know what to do.” Her voice is soft and her shoulders are slumped in defeat.

  I move closer to her and sit on the couch. “We could tell Adam. I’m sure he would know what to do.”

  Sarah’s eyes widen in horror. “No!” She looks at me imploringly. “Please don’t say anything to Adam; he’ll flip out. Trust me, you don’t know him, not really. I mean, Adam was in the Marines, he would kill him.”

  My body stiffens. “I can’t keep this from him. Adam can read me like a book.”

  Tears once again streak down her rosy cheeks. “Evie, please, for my birthday, don’t tell Adam.”

  I don’t have the opportunity to respond before Adam’s crisp voice echoes across the room. “Don’t tell me what?” He’s standing in the doorway, a frown on his attractive face as Sarah and I huddle together.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “WHAT’S WRONG?” ADAM looks at us both with concern.

  I focus my gaze on Sarah, who’s wiping away the remaining tears on her face and has adopted a cool, unconcerned expression. How she can manage to appear so collected under the circumstances is astounding.

  “Nothing’s wrong. We were chit-chatting. You know how girls can get when they’re in the same room together.” Her laugh, though spirited, holds a hint of nervous tension, and her complexion looks wan as she stands up from the couch.

  “Sit down, Sarah.” Adam’s tone is clipped.

  Adam walks to the center of the room and his imposing height makes me sink farther into my seat. Sarah does what she is told. He turns his attention to me, and I avoid his gaze by staring at the hardwood floor.

  “What was it Sarah didn’t want you to tell me?”

  “You’re being a bully; if she doesn’t want to tell you something she shouldn’t have to,” Sarah snipes.

  I appreciate Sarah rallying to my defense, but the entire situation is beyond stressful. One of my hands rubs against my cheek, the flush of my previous anger and fear still consuming my exhausted body.

  “I asked you a question.” Adam’s voice holds a firm command.

  “Ask your sister what happened.” I realize a little late I’ve shouted the words.

  “Please don’t fight over this, over me.” Sarah’s voice is strained.

  Adam ignores her, grabs my hand, and pulls me from the couch so I’m standing. I keep my face cast down, and when he notices he reaches for my chin, forcing me to gaze into his eyes.

  “I didn’t ask my sister because I want you to tell me.” His tone is chiding, yet soft.

  I gulp once, because I know why he’s doing this. Throughout our brief relationship honesty has been a struggle. He hates the idea of me keeping secrets, and I can sympathize. Gazing into Adam’s cobalt eyes, I realize my hesitation is dissolving the little faith he has in me, in our relationship.

  My eyes close under the pressure. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I have to tell him.”

  She sucks in a deep breath. When I open my eyes, I see the impatience in his, and I know Sarah is right—he is going to flip out. I hate being the catalyst for his anger, but more than anything, I hate having made him pluck the truth out of me in such an excruciating way.

  I speak with haste, because I ramble when I’m nervous. “Markus was here. He was drunk and he was forcing your sister to do something she didn’t want.”

  Adam lets go of me, visible rage boiling over his tense body. His fists are clenched as he turns to Sarah. “What happened?”

  “Adam…” she pleads. “It’s not what you think. He was being an asshole, but he’s drunk. He’s normally not like that…” She runs her hands over her hair. “Evelyn was trying to protect me, but I was fine. Then he started acting like an ass. I didn’t think he would be stupid enough to touch her…”

  Sarah is unable to finish. Adam strides out of the room, and both his sister and I are left there in shock. After a few seconds I walk out of the room, quickly moving to the open patio terrace. Sarah is right next to me, and for a second everything looks fine. People are dancing, laughing, drinking, and then I see Adam. He’s walked over to the bar; Markus is there with a drink in hand. They exchange a few words and then Adam’s fist swings toward Markus’s chin. People scatter and the shocked gasps of all those in attendance fill the night air.

  I make my way toward the swarm of people huddled around the bar, horrified expressions on their faces as they watch the fight. Though I’m not sure it can be considered much of a fight, since Markus never connects a single punch. If someone doesn’t intervene
I think Adam will kill him, and a cold fear sweeps through my body at the thought.

  Mathew, having made his way through the crowd, pulls his brother off of Markus. The rage in Adam’s eyes exhibits a wild frenzy that fills me with uncertainty. I want to run into his arms and hug him, to push my body onto his so the contact can center him, but I’m scared. He’s scaring me.

  Adam shrugs off his brother’s grip as he eyes the groaning Markus. Sarah is crying next to me, and a slew of young women stand around her, cooing calming words.

  How did everything fall apart in the span of fifteen minutes? Can this mess be salvaged? My thoughts, like my heart, are racing.

  A cold wind hits my body and my dress ripples in the breeze. Adam’s words echo in my head. If a gust of wind were to strike, you better make sure you hold your dress down. My hands clamp on the fabric. Though truthfully, at this point flashing everyone at the party is the least of my worries.

  WE have spent the last thirty minutes sequestered in an elegant looking office. Mrs. Black has remained on the patio tending to guests as they leave, attempting to assuage wagging tongues, no doubt. Adam has been on his phone with his lawyer, and though his body is stiff with anger, he doesn’t seem perturbed by the fact he might get sued for assaulting Markus.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Mr. Black looks at Adam as he paces around the room.

  Adam, having finished his conversation, slips his phone in his pocket as he looks at his father. “He tried to take advantage of Sarah and Evelyn. I was making sure he never tries something like that again.”

  “There are smarter ways to deal with these situations,” Mathew chimes in, his arms crossed over his chest.

  I’m sitting next to Sarah, who’s pale except for her bloodshot eyes. I squeeze her hand, attempting to give her support, though she’s unresponsive.

  “I don’t need your shit, Mathew. I’m not even sure why you both care. If Markus is stupid enough to sue me, I’ll ruin his already limping career.”

  “We have the Children’s Care benefit tomorrow. We don’t need the bad publicity.” John Black runs his hands over his head and rests them on the nape of his neck. Like father, like son.