by Cates, A. K
“Evee,” Jack giggled in her arms.
Eve didn’t text back. She’d make him sweat. There were two sides to Roman she’d already met, two sides to that coin and neither of them were good for her.
*
That night she waited, ready for the game to begin. She could play this game, feelings weren’t on the line, perhaps she could be exactly what Trigger wanted her to be. Be cold, be calculating and detached. It was possible Trigger was only trying to protect her from her emotions if she got too involved. Possible. Even Trigger was a coin that flipped on occasion.
She stared back at the mirror and let out a sigh, her shoulders giving in. Her make-up next to naked, a feint red tinting her lips and delicate mascara emphasizing her eyes. Her hair was mused up in a clip spilling out over the sides exposing the dip in her back, bare all the way down. The dress was a red silken thing costing more than a month’s wages and how did she come by it? It was a gift from someone she wanted nothing to do with, a part of her past come back to haunt her every now and then. It had stood over a year in her closet in a plastic lined bag waiting to be let out. Eve had never given in, until tonight. The dress came in handy as it fastened over her hips and flared out below. There was a partial slit revealing her flesh along the subtle seduction line. A bit of skin. Nothing vulgar. Everything tasteful. Everything to leave someone wanting more.
Which was exactly what she had planned. Roman had it coming. She wasn’t going to put out. Not tonight. Not ever.
She’d protect her innocence for as long as possible, especially since the way he left had been so cheap, a stark reminder of the role she had to play. “You’re anything but cheap,” Eve affirmed in the mirror. It gave her a seconds worth of comfort in a dress she could never rightfully afford. Temporary, everything about tonight had the ill feeling tainting the air.
The intercom rang.
Summoned again.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” she said pushing the button. She didn’t give him the opportunity to say otherwise. Eve grabbed her clutch, a silver mesh thing so alien in her fingers; it too knew she was out of her element despite how many affirmations she made.
*
The air left her lungs in a whoosh.
There he was leaning against a limousine in a black suit and white shirt open at the collar. He stepped forward, demi-god in the flesh. His hair was mused back and his eyes, oh his eyes pierced directly into hers.
He took her in, from head to toe, gleaming.
“Is it too much?” Eve saw the look, couldn’t decipher it. Damn it, she was meant to be strong, not insecure about her appearance.
He kissed her hand sending a shiver up her arm. “You look magnificent,” the shadows played across him, hooding in the night and her mouth parted. He held her hand, turned and opened the door to the limousine. “That dress is stunning.”
She took a tentative step. “I thought you were sending a car,” it was the dumbest thing to ever come out of her mouth and she could kick herself for it.
He blinked. “It is a car.” It was a black giant of a limousine.
Eve stepped in as he opened the door for her and went round the other side and sat next to her.
“I could lie on the floor of your car,” Eve sat on her hands feeling so helplessly out of her depth.
“Or we could lie together,” his voice was husky deep, his gaze warming in the light of the limousine. She squirmed beneath his scrutiny, her loins filling with blood. The way he said we. The way he said together. The way his eyes glowed in the soft lighting, intent on her, stealing her breath away. She fought her nerves, it was a trick. It had to be.
The limousine pulled out into the street.
“Rome,” she said. She meant to say something more, anything; the way he was looking at her was making her forget her words.
“Oh god,” he moaned and body pressed against hers. He leapt on her like a hungry lion.
Eve was caught in the frenzy, her lips pressed into a sudden fire. His mouth found hers, parted her like a damn and his tongue hunted inside for life and death. She felt his urgency, his hands, his body half on her, half on the seat. His hands gripped the silk dress.
Her hands gripped his hard chest. He was here, he was really here! There was so much material between them in that moment, so much stopping them from-
The dress, it was too tight and unyielding as she heated beneath him, growing moist. His hands tugged and found the fabric unrelenting. His fingers found the slit in the dress, the one giving her slight movement and shape. She’d all but given up on feeling his body. It was no use. She needed more of him and couldn’t get it. Both hands were at her thighs, as his lips pressed against her.
She gasped.
He tore the slit all the way up to her waist. “I’ll replace it, I swear,” he murmured in her ear, that wasn’t why she gasped. His hand cupped between her legs, between her Sex holding her there, keeping her in place as if she’d fall over the edge any second. Blood filled her in between humming beneath his touch, pulsing for him, urging him on. Her back arched into the leather seat. She wanted more, needed more. She moaned for him. She was ready to give it all to him and his hand-
His phone rang shrill and harsh between their bodies. The vibrations echoed through her skin. Her eyes shot open. She shot up and out of her state.
The ringing persisted.
Why in the hell did the phone always ring when they were together? She held a sudden question in her eyes, a clear doubt. What was she doing? Would he take the call above what was going on between them? How would she feel about it?
Her nerves teetered on the brink, her hands were cold.
Roman took out the phone and switched it off.
Eve exhaled; it should have made her feel better to have been prioritised.
“There, no distractions,” Roman dipped to her again and landed another kiss. She melted beneath his touch, arching against his will. His hand found its spot again grinding against her Sex.
The phone rang again.
This time it was another phone from a different pocket with a different ringtone. Roman stilled, his face shrouded in the shadow of the light, every muscle tensing in his jaw.
“What is it?” Eve said.
“My emergency phone. I have to take this.” He rose off of her, his hand leaving her Sex so suddenly. He took out the phone on its third ring and answered it. His face was masked in darkness, a sudden tension in the air. He sat back against the leather seat and took his attention off Eve.
Their moment, only seconds ago was long gone. Her heart thumped in the silence, the traffic noise slowly coming into the background pulling her back down to Earth.
A minute later he put down the phone. He pressed a button on a nearby remote. “Henry, can you take us back to Miss Allure’s place?” Her organs plummeted out from under her. What had happened in such a short space of time? Had she done something wrong? Was she not what he wanted? “Eve, I have to go deal with something urgent,” his voice was guarded, the same one he employed for business, a distance put between them instantly.
He leaned into her. “I really want to continue this but it can’t wait.” There were lines around his eyes, a grim expression.
“Is everything alright?” she whispered. The rejection still hung thick in the air, his worry too. She couldn’t ignore the change in his demeanour. For the briefest of moments she was relieved it wasn’t her, a moment. Eve nodded in the dim glow of the limousine.
“Henry, you can drop me off here.”
Eve blanched. “What?”
“It’ll be faster if we go our separate ways.” Our separate ways. The limousine paused moments later.
Roman got out and walked around the car.
Eve pressed down the window button as he leaned in.
“Henry will take you back home. I’ll call you,” he stepped out onto the pavement without so much as a goodbye or a backward glance.
Eve leaned back the tears welling up in her cheeks. It wasn
’t her, this wasn’t about her. She had to keep reminding herself, yet he could’ve tried to convince her of it.
Twenty minutes later she landed outside her building resembling a victim of the worst kind. Her dress was torn all the way up to her lace panties. Her hair was dishevelled, the clip lopsided. Her lipstick smudged.
And her insides…utterly bereft.
She held her strappy heels in her hand as she stepped up to her apartment.
This was like what she’d overheard from countless other women, there was a name for it; one Eve had never believed in her wildest dreams she’d be on the receiving end of. It was the walk of shame.
She heard nothing from Roman for the rest of the weekend.
27
Eve woke with a start. Her hand clapped over her mouth. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter; it was going to be alright. They couldn’t hurt him. They wouldn’t. It wasn’t their motive. And deep down she knew she was wrong. They could and they would if they ever got their hands on that photo.
That photo.
Eve had cleared out her desk Friday evening, she hadn’t had much there. She’d taken what little she’d brought with her, except one thing. Eve grabbed her handbag from the front door, grasped for it in the blindfold dark. She picked the bag up and tucked herself back in bed, the warmth dissipating from the sheets. Her hands worked frantically, she felt around the bottom of the bag, making sure she hadn’t tucked it in by accident. Please be there.
She searched and searched. Turned on the bedside lamp. Upended the bag. It wasn’t there.
It was the photo of Trisha and Jack. She’d had it at her desk; put it in one of the drawers. It was so utterly stupid thinking she could bring a photo to work, something so personal and traceable, to a place where she was being blackmailed. She was putting Jack and Trisha at risk just by associating with them, by having that photo of them. How stupid she’d been. Was.
What were the chances someone had already found it? Even if someone did, what were the chances they were part of her blackmail? If Trigger found it he wouldn’t give it to them, would he? No, not Trigger. He’d said there were others. Others. Probably watching her every move.
The photo had to be saved.
Eve rolled to the bedside table; it was 5 o’clock on a Monday morning. She groaned. She couldn’t go back to sleep, not with the threat haunting the air. Someone might come in to work and find it, even if she no longer worked there.
She threw back the duvet.
*
The metro was a sea of half-asleep bodies lulling under the fluorescent lights. Endless shadows and bags under eyes, Eve was the only one near enough awake. Her heart hammered all the way to the office building. Her key slid into the access panel. It was six o’clock by the time she arrived. She was high on adrenaline and cheap caffeine from an instant tin in the kitchen. The green light flashed and she went in. It was a relief her card still worked, given what had happened over the weekend, she’d agreed to be Roman’s.
Her fists bunched. Don’t even go there! After what had happened in the limousine she wasn’t so sure anymore.
Her heels clacked along the marble floors. Things were eerily calm, ghostly dead. The lights were off except one feint light from the security guard’s desk. He glanced up when she entered nodding her way and looked back down again.
Eve stumbled on, her hands shaking as she pressed the elevator button. Keep it together. Her mind had already done the unthinkable; she’d already gone there and seen what the worst was that could happen if she didn’t get the photo back.
Trisha. Jack. No. They’d get drawn into this. A mother and her son. If the blackmailers didn’t already see how important they were to Eve they would
and they’d exploit it.
She couldn’t let it come to that.
Her stomach jolted as the elevator rose, her ears popping feeling like she’d left her skin on the ground floor. This steel box was so much smaller with just her in it. How was it possible? She pressed her fingers to her temples.
Keep it together, this wasn’t about her anymore.
The office floor was empty, its cubicles resembling an empty beehive in glowing white and grey. Half the lights were on in a feint buzz. Eve stepped out with such velocity sending her stomach nearly lurching out. She marched around the end aisle to the back office where she had her desk, where Roman’s was.
The last time she’d been here was only a few days ago, it wasn’t enough time for it to feel foreign again. She bared her teeth at the thought of that man. That jerk-the man hadn’t called her all weekend.
She deserved better than that, hell anyone did. She didn’t know much about men, if anything, it didn’t take a genius to know she’d been brushed aside without a second’s consideration. Her heels muffled on the carpeting, her fist clenched and unclenched around her handbag.
She wore an epic grey blazer, epically accurate to the grey under her eyes. She was washed out and like a wet dog she hadn’t dried her hair after her shower.
Her view cast to the tinted windows of Roman’s office, most of the time they were transparent glass, now they were as opaque as the night sky. It was odd yet it didn’t matter.
Eve stepped beyond the desk, her eyes to the office windows as if she could see through the opaqueness. She didn’t watch where she was going.
Until, she ran right into him.
“Eve,” Roman steadied her, gripping both arms to her sides. She had a sudden rush seeing him there, wet hair, fresh body wash scent. Her lungs deflated. “What are you doing here? I thought we agreed”-
“No, you decided and I consented and then you left me, so here I am and mind your own business for once,” she snapped. She couldn’t help it; all that pent up rejection was making her head spin.
“This is my business. Why are you here so early?”
“What”-Eve couldn’t find the words. She had a moment of complete loss, what had she come here for again? Seeing him there, his gaze deep and searching, penetrating, she was naked beneath that stare. A clean shaven smell invaded her senses, a musk of body wash. His face swam before her like a dream. “Did you just come out of the shower?” Eve blurted out. “Here?”
He was dressed in dark suit pants and a blue and white striped shirt, the scent clung to him and his hair was damp, slicked back. She wanted badly to reach up and run her fingers through it, to ruffle his feathers like he’d ruffled hers.
“I stayed here last night,” Roman said, his eyes were open, paled as the fluorescents hit them. He was the beauty she remembered on the surface, drained eyes, and his skin bloodless. He looked vampiric now, sleep deprived.
“Why? Don’t you live close by?”
Roman ran a hand through his hair. Then he ran both hands through his hair, that bad, huh? Her expression softened, all the anger she wanted dissipating in a heartbeat.
“I had a lot to deal with, remember that emergency I told you about. It took all weekend.” Eve bit her lip, he hadn’t really told her anything about it, except that it was an emergency. She was meant to be angry at him not falling into his arms for god’s sake. She took a step to the side.
“Eve,” his eyes searched her, beseeching her.
“I left the key to my bike lock and I have to get it,” she lied. What else could she say? And why did every new lie become easier to tell? She nodded beyond him and sidestepped to the desk a few paces away and started opening drawers aware of the man watching her with his towel wet hair.
“I didn’t know you had a bike,” his words were hollow.
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” Eve glanced up.
“Evidently. I’ll give you some privacy,” Roman turned. She hissed out a breath, he didn’t fight her on returning to work, even if she wanted him to, deep down.
She returned her mind to the task at hand, drawer after drawer she searched, her mind racing. She gripped the desk, it wasn’t there. The copy room. She’d been there several times in the last week; pe
rhaps she’d taken it in there. Fat chance, though she couldn’t be sure. Eve crumpled into her chair, her arms collapsing at their sides.
“Did you find it?” Roman leaned against a cubicle wall.
She wasn’t listening as she rose and stormed off down the aisle.
Damn Roman and his distracting body. She couldn’t think like this.
The copy room lights were off. The skeleton machines were sinister and cold in the darkness. This space was empty, clean and clinical. There was no way she’d left it in here. Her chest heaved like she was breathing for dear life. How could she loose it? How could she have been so stupid? The tears cascaded down her cheeks, she hardly acknowledged them. As the lights switched on she was aware of the sound of footsteps on muffled carpet behind her.
“Eve, about the weekend.”
“Shut up,” Eve turned and pressed her lips to his. In that moment there was nothing except her and him. Her and him. Anything to stop him from giving her a pathetic excuse as to why he hadn’t called. Anything. She no longer cared. He was a job. Nothing more. Her lips urged on and soon Eve legs lifted under his hands and straddled him.
His hands tugged on her for more, her butt landing on the copy machine. She inhaled him like the drowning woman she was. She needed this. She needed him and the distraction from her failure. Her neck tilted back as his lips buried deep in her curve. His hands hugged her hips massaging down her thighs. Forceful and tender.
For a second Eve was saved from his clawing hands knowing her stockings would prevent things from going any further. A second. She hadn’t taken into account the running at the top of her stockings or his resourcefulness. His deft fingers found the slit and yanked the hole wide, allowing his hand in to explore her skin.
Eve sucked in a breath at the touch of him on her bare flesh. His head buried in her neck drawing her in, trailing kisses down sparking electric pulses all the way down to her thighs. He lifted her skirt and sheared the hole expanding it across her leg, cupping up to the middle where her thigh ended and her division began. Her back arched against his hand. Roman retrieved his hands from the entrance of the fabric, her spot, her Sex. His eyes found hers in the bare light and for a moment she thought he would stop. Both his hands moved under her skirt, millimetres from her entrance. There was a violent tearing sound and then his hands had her other leg. He had it all now, access to wherever he wanted. Oh my!