by Cates, A. K
She shivered in her cream silk blouse; it was so virginally pure, she was a beacon of virginity and shouldn’t have been surprised when Roman came running. Their last conversation still left her raw. There was nothing she could do about it.
Eve was stuck between a rock and a hard place and for the first time it was truly becoming clear to her. She let out a steely breath, knowing what would follow, what always followed.
He’d say her name in his seductive way.
She’d say his name, Rome in her way.
“Eve, Rome, Rome, Eve. I love how we keep doing this, how all we can say is each other’s names. We don’t even know if we actually have anything in common except sexual chemistry.” Eve laughed, “as if we’ve actually done that.” The blush never met her cheeks; she was invigorated tonight, brazened by alcohol. Roman blinked and stepped closer into her comfort zone, he became less hazy with the closeness. He smelled freshly washed and musky, a heady scent throwing her off balance. “You’ll have to be mindful of what you do, one shouldn’t drink and operate heavy machinery,” Eve giggled. Roman Pierce was definitely heavy machinery.
“You’re drunk,” his gaze was unwavering and his jaw hardened. He could do sexy assassin dangerous and pull it off in heartbeat.
“Quite the observer,” Eve slumped off the ledge of the window. He caught her before her legs gave under. “How did you find me?” her lips were so close to his neck.
“You called me, remember?” he stood inches from her and yet the distance was like a memory so long ago. She remembered the monkeys warning her and what they represented. Thou shalt see no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil and there was one more…one more forgotten monkey who had his hands over his genitals. That was the one she should know about. That last monkey was the one she was supposed to embody.
“Nope.” She slung her handbag over her shoulder and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Her side rocked into his hard muscled torso. Oh, how she was so aware of him! Had she really called him? And how had he found her? She could barely think yet alone call someone. Was this really happening?
“You said you weren’t going to drink again,” he hissed. She didn’t have to look to know his jaw was tighter than a robot’s. “Eve, I’m taking you home.” His arm gripped her against him sending his body heat coursing through the thin fabric of her shirt.
“No,” Eve pouted, she didn’t want to look up. This was the worst kind of drunk, the one where she would say or do anything until she got what she wanted and in the morning it would all be regret.
“Why not?”
“I won’t tell you,” Eve sang, a smile playing on her mouth. Her confidence blossomed beneath her drink addled self. Was this what it took to feel in control? Was she in control? This was so much like old times, their sexual banter followed by their intense sexual frustration. Hers.
“Eve,” his tone was hard sending a shiver into her very core rocking her nervous system and almost rocking her gut into retaliation.
“Because I’ll want you to tuck me in,” Eve giggled moments later. She squinted down the street, this bar was somewhere in the industrial sector. Unfortunately all the hip ones were these days; she’d gone alone, like some loser. It had been extreme wishful thinking. Eve had been weak, was presently weak. She’d come here with the foolish notion of losing it once and for all, her virginity, the sacred thing keeping her from being with Rome and she’d been utterly desperate. Once she’d arrived she realised exactly how pathetic it was. It was her virginity and she wouldn’t give it away to some one night stand, even if it solved so many problems. She’d regret it. Immediately. Forever.
Then came the tequila.
One shot.
Another. Just to calm her nerves.
She’d waved off all male attention, the one thing to make her writhe with pleasure. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d had to turn away a man, never, she didn’t frequent at these places. She was normally a wallflower. Eve had asserted her No’s which was the best feeling in the world, as if she were telling every man within a ten mile radius hell no, back off! She’d envisioned every face as Roman and when that didn’t do the trick they became Triggers.
She’d never been so empowered before, it was so far from the girl she really was. Maybe in her faux I-am-woman-hear-me-roar moment she’d called Roman.
Followed by alcohol swirling in her subconscious making a mockery of that very confidence she’d recently gained. She’d stepped out for fresh air.
She couldn’t tell heads or tails. “I’m a terrible drunk,” she slurred to herself. His hands cupped on her waist, the touch awakening her senses once more. “Who, what, hold on there, at least buy me a drink first,” Eve slurred. She giggled again.
“I think you’ve had enough.”
She giggled again. “I think you’ve had enough,” she mimicked his hard tone. “Come hither, you must do as I say. Doth thee not know chivalry is dead?”
“Funny, you said the same thing over the phone. I’m so happy it amuses you,” Roman led her out of the outdoor bar area and onto the street.
The night air hit them pure here. No club steam. No grinding smell of booze and sex. He put his jacket over Eve before she could protest. His scent encased her in a shell and safety that had never felt so physical before. Roman was here. He was here. After so long of being without him.
This moment couldn’t last, it wasn’t meant to. It never did. Roman would leave and she would be empty again. Her grip tightened on his arm. Don’t go.
She had a temping job to start next week, the time-off between had been unbearable. She’d taken care of Jack to pass the hours and done the only thing she knew to do in between. Read. She’d read and reread her favourite book until the pages blurred and real life had blurred too.
It had only been a few days. A few days. That’s all it took.
“I should have known all along. You’re just like him,” she slurred. “That’s why I can’t get away from you.”
“Like who?”
“Dorian Gray.”
“Mmm, you read the Picture of Dorian Gray?” Roman held her arm fixed to him as he led her down the pavement, his other arm attached to her waist, trapping her.
“A hundred times, I know it back to front. You’re exactly like him. That’s why I was drawn to you. It’s why I can’t get away from you.”
A heavy quiet passed between them.
“And who are you in this?” he finally said, there was a resigned tone in his voice.
Eve was silent for a second, “I’m the actress you destroyed by loving.”
“Eve, you’re not thinking clearly.”
She pushed away from him and stood upright. “It’s the clearest thought I’ve ever had. You’re going to destroy me, I know it and yet”-her voice dropped, her shoulders dragging. “I can’t stay away”-
“Get in the car.”
“I will, only because I know what I’m walking towards. You don’t mean to destroy me, but you will.” There was an amber glow of sadness in his eyes and then he turned away and moved on. Suddenly she was hollow inside, Roman Pierce, her very own Dorian Gray and the truth didn’t set her free. She was incomplete. Perhaps it was what all people in relationships sought at the end of it, closure. Closure.
In order to want closure there had to have been a relationship there in the first place.
Relationship, no. Something, yes.
Had there been something?
No. Yes. No. It was a fragment of her vivid imagination. To think, she’d come so close to Roman she could have been in his world. No. That was all a fleeting dream. In order to walk among the gods, one must be a god first. It was a wonderful unaffordable dream. Eve closed her eyes, the briefest of time.
When she next opened them she was in his car.
She hiccupped, “how long have I been out?”
“Twenty minutes,” Roman didn’t look at her. That tone he used, the way he stared at the road with a square jaw. He was mad, Dorian
Gray mad.
Eve buried herself into her seat. Maybe she had it all wrong. Maybe she was the painter in the story and he her muse, regardless he’d destroy her.
She’d been an hour without alcohol. It swayed and tumbled in her system, the night and its activities began playing heavy on her mind, so much clearer than they’d been before. Yes, she had called Roman. She’d yelled at him over the phone, really yelled. She’d ranted, oh god, how she’d ranted. Her cheeks turned the deepest shade of beetroot. Her head slipped down. Her arms folded over herself as if she could protect whatever next mortifying thing that came out of her.
The engine revved and purred like it had the first time. Eve giggled and hiccupped, her hand flying to her mouth. She couldn’t control her vocal fuck ups and the thought of last time was ever present.
“What is it this time?” Roman said his eyes were on the road; his tone wasn’t as harsh as before, softening slightly. Eve shook her head, a hint of her old self working its way back into her system. How did she get here? How she wanted to be with him and hear his sweet voice…
“The last time I was in your car”-Eve put her finger to her lips, a smile lolling in place. She was stuck in heady mortification of what she said as she said it and yet she couldn’t stop herself no more than she could stop a moving car.
“Yes?” Roman inclined her way.
She couldn’t not look away. He was so close she could reach out and touch him, was this real? She swallowed down her old self, “I came.”
“I know,” she watched his jaw for any sign of a reaction. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Roman was a closed book and at present she wasn’t in the right frame to even guess what was going on below the surface.
“I missed you,” he said. “More than I wanted to.”
It sounded like an insult. An unexpected insult. More than he wanted to? Was it her fault? She hadn’t contacted him besides tonight. She’d been strong, up until the non-happily ever after of her favourite book.
Things had crumbled. The night had changed course to this.
The truth and the inevitable ending was a lie.
There were no happy endings with Dorian Gray. She let herself believe there were, the eternal optimist. Eve looked out the glass, tears spitting against the exterior of the window. “I didn’t want to miss you,” his gaze shifted to her for a second.
Eve didn’t say anything, if she did her resolve would melt. She’d thought of him, even after she’d banished him from her mind. Her mind was weak. She wanted him, she couldn’t have him, not all of him.
“Say something.” She didn’t. “Say anything.”
“I wish you didn’t want to not miss me,” Eve whispered and wanted to bury her head in her seat permanently. She was so on show, so aware of the man sitting next to her like she could feel him through the seats, his warmth, his musk, his rock hard body. And him. Him. How could she not want him? How could any woman not want him?
The Audi slowed at a stop light. The red winked back at them, rain blurring the night like an impressionist painting. How had everything become so twisted? Become so complicated? She wanted things to be how they used to be. She wanted…him. However she could have him.
“Eve, please, look at me.” Please. He never said please. Was he breaking? Changing?
Eve lifted her eyes to his, in her slurred condition she was braver and she knew it was a ruse, deep down. Yet on the surface where her mind swam, she could be brave and do what she’d longed to do for so long. She rose up in her seat and leaned over to his side, her face inches from his.
His breath tickled her lips.
How long had it been since she’d been this close?
“Eve,” he hissed out the very way she hoped melting her core and her resolve sending infinite shivers coursing down her body. If she said his name back, if she did it would be the end of this back and forth but no, she wanted to remain between it.
So instead of saying his name…
She kissed him.
42
For once it was perfection. For once, the kiss meant something.
His hand rocked under her thigh pulling her onto him. His lips called her in, hot and wet like butter on toast. His tongue flicked in between her mouth and the tingle shot through to her awakening her loins that before this moment felt like they’d been sleeping in a coma. Her body melted further weighing down on his hips. She pressed down and met his hardness there. It was rock hard.
Eve’s hips began to move, to grind against him.
He moaned in her mouth. His hands. Where were his hands? A moment ago they had gripped her thighs. Now they gyrated at her waist spurring her on top of him. They moved beneath the silk of her blouse. They were hot and needy. And pressed hard, cupping her breasts circling to her nipples.
Eve spasmed and moaned.
One hand raised her chin to look at him, she wanted more. She wanted the one thing she’d gone out for that night. She wanted him inside her. However it would happen. However it could in a car. Her head hit the roof of the Audi.
She ignore it and grinded against him. Her hips moved back to let her hands roam. She had her hand on his zipper gently, coaxingly she pulled it down.
BEEEEEEEP!
They jumped and stilled. Eve’s senses came to. Oh my god! If it wasn’t for the tinted windows! Her breathing came hard. His hands pressed her up and manoeuvred her back in her seat with lightning speed, her thighs hot against the leather.
BEEEEEEEP!
BEEEEEEEP!
Eve blinked hard. She craned her neck and squinted at the yellow lights behind them.
In front, the traffic light winked green.
The car revved and they made the turn. The engine purred for a while before Eve could process what had happened. What had happened? Had she almost lost it at an intersection? How bad had she wanted him, still wanted him?
Eve didn’t melt in her seat this time. She was beyond mortification. She needed release. Her neck craned and stretched. Her back arched. Like a cat, she needed to cull her claws. Scratch the itch.
Roman laughed a deep throated laugh bringing her back, speaking to her very Sex. “Eve, you drive me crazy,” he purred and the way he spoke reminded her of the engine and what it had done to her the first time. Her back arched further. It was hot and cold inside. She could feel her skin prickle and harden. Her breasts ached for his touch. Her nipples hardened, calling to him.
Please turn. Please make the want go away.
She wanted to beg, to plead, Roman wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was fixated on the road. Why? Didn’t he want what she wanted? Didn’t he yearn for her? And if not her, than at least for sex. “Rome,” she moaned. Please.
“Don’t,” his hands pressed tighter over the steering wheel. “I’m so close to pulling over and taking you right here on the side of the road.”
She wanted to ask why he didn’t when the mortification hit her. He didn’t really want her or at least didn’t want to want her.
The engine revved again. Speed added to the mix and the thrum only made her want it more regardless if he didn’t. Rejection wasn’t slowing her down. It was no longer a matter of love or sex. It was a personal need.
She needed to exert her womanhood. Like a man, she needed sex as power. Eve leaned over. Her hand trailed to his thighs, resting there.
Holding there. Caressing.
“What are you doing?” Roman’s voice caught.
“Nothing,” Eve let her hand travel to his pants where the zipper lay undone.
Her hand pressed against him fully, feeling his blood pulsing below the surface. He was so hard, so solid. It jerked beneath her touch.
“Eve.”
“Don’t say my name like that, it only encourages me.”
He breathed out in a hiss, clearly holding himself back.
Eve rocked out of her seat, her seatbelt stretching further. Her fear was gone. The want was taking over. She’d never been so in control before and she loved it. She wante
d to keep this. This was the very thing, the closure she craved.
His hardness pressed out of his pants, bouncing free.
She gasped. It was so…erect, pink and swollen and standing to attention. “Oh my god.” His cock had jumped free like a jack in a box, like a writhing arm pulling her towards it.
“Eve let me pull over.”
“No,” her voice was barely her own as she crawled toward it.
“Damn it, we’re on the freeway, I’ll take the next turn off. Don’t do anything.”
“Don’t stop me.”
Before he could respond Eve did the one thing she’d dreamt about for so long. The one thing she’d been most curious about. She never thought she could do it, not really. She never thought in her wildest dreams…as her mouth slid over his cock the feeling was unlike anything she’d ever had before.
He was inside her, really inside her.
The sweet feeling in her mouth sparked a sudden reaction to her Sex. Rome moaned beneath her lips like a switch flicked, he no longer tried to stop her. He went silent except for the groans eliciting from him like an animal.
Her lips cupped around his top. The sensation of him inside her shot through to her very legs. She was wet within seconds. She started at the top and guided her mouth over and onto him. Up and down. In and out. Lips pressed. Tongue gliding over the length. She’d never done this before and yet it came so naturally. There wasn’t an instruction manual to follow. Like instinct. Sexual instinct. She wanted it. Like sex had been ingrained in everyone. Eve’s lips pressed tighter. He was so thick beneath her. She felt the veins pulsing around his sheath. Her mouth parted to let him in. And she sucked. Her mouth salivated more and it spurred on her movements. Her head bobbed up and down as she manoeuvred. Her hand guided him into her. She wanted him inside her. Her hand rubbed against the base of him. Rimming his balls. Cupping them. She wanted it all.
“Eve you’ll be the death of me.” Roman groaned beneath her. He groaned! She didn’t care. His hips inched to her mouth, entering her again. “Oh god,” he moaned. “I need to fuck you now.”