“I like Eve.” She searches my face for an expression that will give her a reason to walk away, but she won’t find one there.
Chapter Six
EVIE
“Concrete Jungle” by Bad Omens
Istraighten in my chair, giving him my partial truth, as I shimmy myself farther up my barstool. “It reminds me of man’s downfall from the Garden of Eden.” My tone is seductive, and I love how his eyes blaze with a commanding authority that makes my skin prickle with awareness. I feel so dopey, drunk on his essence that I want to drown in it, but I control my emotions, appearing unaffected.
He takes another drink of his old-fashioned, and I lick my lips. I imagine tasting the orange and smokey oak flavors while sucking the cherry remnants from his tongue.
I lap up a bead of alcohol on my lip before it threatens to roll off my own. My throat feels hot, and the amber liquid in my glass is only helping to stoke the fire instead of extinguish it. I’m burning, alight with lust and want that I haven’t felt before.
He groans at my remark, showing just how affected he is by my words. “Somehow, I don’t doubt that at all, Eve.”
I hold my head up, supported by my hand. My pensive stare holds his own, until I cannot bear to look at him any longer for fear of leaning in and kissing this stranger at the bar.
“And what about you? What should I call you, pretty boy?” But I don’t have to wait long for his response.
He lifts his head and, without hesitation, replies, “Jameson.”
“Jameson,” I repeat, and he silently nods. I take another swallow of my drink, and I feel it go down hard, burning all the way down into the pit of my stomach.
He gulps, watching me devour the remaining amber liquid in one go. Maybe I affect him like he affects me.
“Why do I get the feeling that that is yourreal name—Jameson?” I want to see how he answers this question. I will be able to tell if he is lying.
He leans in closer. I sit motionless, feeling the heat of his breath caress my cheek.
“Because it is.”
I turn slightly to look him in the eye and fight the urge to look away. Our stare is so intense that I feel as though I can read his innermost desires. I pause for a minute, contemplating my following words. “Why did you tell me your real name?” I’m confused by his brutal honesty. He is a puzzle that I want to solve.
So he tells me without reservation, “I just want to hear my name on your lips.”
And there it is—the truth. My lips part, but I don’t speak while his unspoken words swirl in the air, coating me with a silent embrace.
I just want to hear your name on my lips.I hear it echo over and over again in my head. I go to twist the ring on my finger out of instinct, but it isn’t there, reminding me of all we lost. I clench my fists.
It was the moment that changed my life.
Sometimes, I rage so hard that I need to gain some semblance of control. The guardian angel that saved me that daywas a protective force in my life and my constant the days after—my brother Mateo.
The therapy helped me cope after my assault with my frequently occurring anxiety attacks, and the self-defense classes helped to curb my ever-present anger. This anger never diminished in intensity, so I am here tonight—at The Heavenly Pearl sex club—about to lose myself in a man I just met but want to get lost in forever. His blatant honesty was refreshing. I can’t wait to feel him inside me.
I clench my thighs together at the thought, except it no longer is a thought. It’s a very real possibility.
I lean into Jameson and swear he thinks I’m about to kiss him. Instead, I stand and walk away from the bar. The coldness settles in as his body’s warmth diminishes with each step I take away from him. I turn back to see his head hanging, and he turns to look at me with almost what can be described as sadness.
He also looks like he is stopping himself from running after me.
My lips curl up into a smile, and I lift my hand out to him in an invitation to join me. He doesn’t hesitate and immediately takes long strides to reach me.
He takes my hand in his, and his eyes sparkle with excitement. I look at our hands entwined, and I feel a buzz cascading over my skin, causing my body to break out in a shiver. A warmth spreads over me, and I feel like I need to shed my clothing for entirely different reasons than just to cool off.
I lead Jameson past the bar and the small dance floor, but nobody bothers to look our way. We reach a hall, and I walk past the room numbers until I get to the one I reserved for tonight. Did I expect to use it? I was still deciding on that possibility, but after my conversation with Jameson at the bar, things have escalated pretty quickly, and I want nothing more than to use it now, with him.
I press my finger on the door keypad, and it clicks open. Due to safety concerns, cards get lost, keys are never used as they could be lost, and pockets aren’t a thing here. No money is used in transactions; everything is automatically deducted from your card in real time. Your fingerprint is taken at entry to confirm and activate any rooms you may have requested in advance or at least the fingerprint associated with your name. It makes sense, and I love how much thought whoever designed the system had put into it. It’s obvious safety was this person’s priority, and I love that.
