Adam & Eve- a Tale of Obsession

by Shantel Davis

  “Adam,” Eve called out to me, drawing me out of my thoughts.

  I didn’t know how long she’d been awake or how long I’d been staring into space, but it seemed like hours. I was feeling unusually tired. I needed sleep.

  “Adam,” she called again when I didn’t answer her right away.

  She called my name so many times it turned into a chant, but I didn’t acknowledge her, not once. It was safer to stay in my head, where she wasn’t constantly trying to ruin what we could have. But in true Eve form, she persisted. Her voice became softer, seductive, pulling at the primal part of me until I had no choice but to look at her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.

  She pushed off the bed and slinked onto the floor. Naked, on her hands and knees she crawled to me. It was the most sensual thing I’d ever witnessed. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She stopped in front of me. Involuntarily my legs spread to accommodate her, giving her the space she needed. I was angry at her and even angrier at myself, but that anger didn’t stop me from wanting her close. She laid her head on my lap and pouted prettily up at me while massaging my thigh.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  She didn’t answer, just kept touching me. It was all too much. I turned away and concentrated on a spot on the white wall. It helped me ignore the feeling of her warm hand on my thigh.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again. Her hand traveled toward my dick. I moved to stop her, but she batted my hand away and unzipped my zipper. “I’m sorry.” Her soft hand reached in and pulled my cock out of my boxers. I was rock hard already just because she was near. She stroked me from tip to root. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, voice sensual and soothing.

  She went to wrap her lips around me. It was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do. I pushed her hands away. I didn’t need her pity.

  I was disgusted with myself. I felt needy. I wanted her to tell me that she was apologizing because she regretted what she had said and was not just doing this to appease me.

  Reading my mood, she gave me her version of an apology. “I’ll try to be better,” she promised.

  I believed her, but would it be enough? In my head it was. Those simple words confirmed to me that she cared, but after tonight, she’d have to prove it.

  “Adam,” she called my name again, drawing my attention to her lips and away from my plans. “Can I taste you?”

  This was it, the moment I’d waited for. It caused every nerve in my body to stand at attention. She was giving herself to me. No teasing, or coercing. Her submission had me wanting to beat my chest like King-Fucking- Kong in celebration. Her eyes never left mine as she waited for me to give her permission.

  It’s another ploy. She hates you, the voice reasoned.

  Doubt crept up my spine until she spoke again.

  “Let me please you.” Her voice was low and husky.

  I nearly came on myself at just the sound. I nodded because I didn’t think I had it in me to speak. When her hot mouth enveloped my cock, it only felt like mere seconds before I was cumming. I warned her so she would have a chance to pull away, but she continued sucking and licking me. She slid me to the back of her throat, taking all I had to give. When she eased me out of her mouth slowly and placed sweet kisses on the head of my dick, I trembled.

  “I’m sorry,” she said one last time.

  “Go to bed, Eve. It’s late,” I said instead of asking her if she really meant it when she apologized.

  She stared at me. I took a page from her playbook. I stared back, my gray eyes clashing with her brown ones. I erased every hint of human emotion from my face. I gave her nothing. Treated her like she had treated me, for years.

  At least a minute passed before she got up from the floor then glanced toward the bathroom. She wanted to isolate herself again, but instead walked over to the bed, got in and she pulled the covers to her chin.

  “Goodnight, Adam,” she whispered.

  Closing my eyes, shutting the image of her out, I responded, “Goodbye, Eve.”

  N I N E T E E N

  I was still asleep. I must have been. I closed my eyes and opened them over and over again, hoping each time the room door would still be open. When I saw that it was, I called out to Adam and got no response.

  I got up from the bed and walked cautiously to the door to peek out. Outside the room was a fully furnished basement. I saw stairs that led to a door which was also opened. I realized I’d been locked inside some sort of panic room.

  Was I free? Was this another one of his games? I wondered if I would step outside the room just to have him tackle me and drag me back in. I hated to admit it, but I was scared. I turned back and called for Adam again before walking over to check inside the bathroom. When I turned back around, I noticed a bag at the foot of the bed that had jeans and a t-shirt draped across it. I rushed over and grabbed the heavy bag. I unzipped it and my eyes bugged out when I saw all the hundred-dollar bills inside. There was more money in that bag than I’d ever seen or probably would ever see in my whole life. I pulled out stack after stack. A note fell out of the bag. I picked it up and read it.

  I’m sorry. This should help you get a new start somewhere.

  -Adam

  I was free, but I didn’t know how to feel about it. So many emotions were running through my mind. Did I stay, or did I go? I was going of course, but something held me there, trapped. When the answer for what I was feeling didn’t come, I pushed everything to the back of my mind, grabbed the clothes and put them on. Bathing and brushing my teeth never even crossed my mind.

  Hurriedly I walked to the door. Apprehension hit me again before I stepped over the threshold. Was he really letting me go? Did I want to go? Would I ever find a man willing to go through so much trouble for me? The insecurities and fear of being alone threatened to drown me. Frowning, I shook my head. Leave it to my own mind to be toying with me.

  Just leave. Think about the rest later.

  I hesitated for a minute longer, and then I took one step out of the room. When nothing terrible happened, I took another step. Before I knew it, I was up the stairs and cautiously peeking out of the door. The coast was clear. I walked down a long hallway that led to another set of stairs. I followed those down to the front door which was opened.

  It was hard for me to believe he was letting me go. My instincts urged me to put the money down and just run from it, but I hefted the heavy bag over my shoulder. I wasn’t stupid. I hated the life I’d been living two and a half weeks earlier. To change that I would need money. Hell, I had earned the money.

  I kept my eyes forward. I walked through the eerily quiet house, not wanting to see any parts of what I knew would be impressive. I sped walked out of the front door only stopping to give myself a second to breathe in the fresh air, before hurrying down the steps. A yellow cab waited for me in the circular driveway. The driver got out and reached for my bag, but I waved him off. He headed back to the driver’s side.

  I wanted to hop in the cab and ask the driver to speed off, but I couldn’t help myself. I turned, feeling the heat of his eyes on me. Adam stood at the door, looking older than he had just a few hours before. His expression was somber. He didn’t break eye contact, and I got a glimpse of something fleeting in them that gave me chills in the hot Florida sun.

  Just leave before he changes his mind, I thought.

  I went against my better judgement. I made my way back toward him. With every step I took, his face relaxed a bit. His eyes perked up more. I stopped cold in my tracks. If I gave him any false hope, I knew I would end up right back in that room until he broke me. I didn’t know how it happened, but I could read Adam better than any other person I’d ever known. Instinctively, I knew he was letting me go while hoping I would willingly stay.

  He was hopeless but could have saved himself a lot of hurt by simply believing me when I’d told him the truth the night before. Love and happily ever after endings weren’t options for pe
ople like us.

  “Will—” I started, but my voice cracked.

  I was choked up with some weird emotion that I could not and did not want to explain. It made it hard for me to continue. Closing my eyes and steeling myself against everything I was feeling, I let myself imagine what could have been if we weren’t two mentally jacked up individuals, but only for a moment.

  “Will you come after me?” I asked after regaining my composure.

  I kept my eyes closed as I awaited his answer.

  “I’ll try not to,” I heard him answer in one breath.

  In the next, he slammed the door shut.

  T W E N T Y

  “Adam Fitzgerald, where have you been? I haven’t seen you in more than a month.”

  My wife started in on me as soon as I walked into the house we shared. I stopped on my way up the stairs and let my gaze sweep her. She was beautiful in a traditional way. Tall and lithe, with the body of a ballet dancer. She was wearing a flowery sundress and her blonde hair was perfectly coifed. Not a strand out of place. What was most impressive was the fact that she managed to sound caring and sincere as she chastised me about being away. I knew she was full of shit. Her cold, ice-blue eyes told on her.

  She didn’t give a fuck about me. She was more worried about how my disappearing act would reflect on her. She needed me there to make her friends believe she had some type of fairytale marriage. She fed off their envy. Disgusted with the fact that I even married her, I shook my head and said nothing.

  “You’re going to ignore me, Adam?” She scoffed and stomped her foot like an overgrown child.

  It was unattractive. Ignoring her I dragged myself upstairs. I refused to participate in her temper tantrum, and I needed a shower. When I made it to the top of the stairs, I still heard her ranting.

  She was on the phone. “He’s back, and he looks horrible”

  I already knew who she was talking to—my father. Over the years, she’d tried using him to bend my will for her. As if he could. If he possessed that power, I would have taken his place at the helm of my family’s marketing firm years ago. He’d been pressuring me since I graduated college.

  In the shower with my head pressed against the cool tile and with warm water beating down my back, unwanted thoughts of Eve crept in. Images of her bent over, cumming for me nearly buckled my knees. My cock became incredibly hard. Groaning in pain, I was forced to grip my shaft. I stroked up and down to the memory of the silky feel of her skin against mine. I heard her calling my name. I felt her pussy gripping me as if she was there. The memories were so vivid it was as if I was living it again.

  I'd never forget how her pussy felt wrapped around my dick, how it felt to cum deep inside her. I came, angrily calling out her name. With my orgasm came clarity. There were changes in my life that needed to be made, starting with my marriage. I’d returned with the intentions of going back to my normal life. I didn’t think I could, not after a glimpse of what I could have.

  My lawyer was the first call I made after getting dressed. He answered on the first ring like always. I didn’t bother with the usual forced pleasantries.

  “I want a divorce. I need it to happen soon as possible. Send me the papers by the end of the day, and I’ll have them to you first thing in the morning.”

  I hung up then booted my computer to wait for what I knew was coming next. Though I paid my lawyer, he reported to my father. That meant daddy dearest would receive a call from him about my plans. Not five minutes passed before my office phone rang.

  “Father,” I answered indifferently.

  “Son.” He exhaled a sigh before speaking. “I know you’ve been with the black girl. I hope you haven’t done anything I can’t clean up this time. I can’t keep hiding bodies for you.”

  “One body,” I snarled angrily into the phone. The rest I’d taken care of myself. “And I can assure you you’ve spent more time cleaning up your own fuck ups than you have mine. Furthermore, Maggie’s death was as much as your fault as it was mine. You shouldn’t have disrespected Mother in her own house. Her blood is on your hands.”

  He snapped, “Didn’t I tell you never to speak that name to me again?”

  I heard the hurt and hate in his voice. I believed he actually thought he’d loved her. The idea of him loving someone made me laugh. Men like my father didn’t know what love was. They liked control.

  “You brought her up,” I reminded him. “I guess thirteen years hasn’t been long enough for you to get over that incident.”

  “Incident? What you did wasn’t a simple incident,” he said, seething.

  Maggie. She was a subject my father didn’t like discussing unless of course it was to blame me for her death. She had been a twenty- something-year-old secretary he’d been fucking. She was ambitious and determined to take him away from my mother.

  Sure, I’d slit her throat while she luxuriated in my mother’s bathtub, but he was also to blame. He had brought her into our twisted world and gave her hopes of becoming a permanent part of it, knowing that she would never be more than his whore. As far as I was concerned, it was his responsibility to clean up that mess because he’d created it. Every so often he would try to hold her over my head, but it wouldn’t work. I felt no guilt about what I’d done to her, because she deserved it.

  The day she’d died, I’d over heard her on the phone calling my mother. She’d told her to come home quickly, that it was an emergency. Then I’d heard her and my father fucking in my parents’ bedroom. She wanted them to be caught. I killed her because she didn’t know her place.

  “I killed her because of you. You—”

  Clearing his throat, he interrupted me and changed the subject before I could say more. “Mr. Bynum called me to tell me you’re considering divorce. I won’t allow it. Why can’t you just do what you’re supposed to?”

  “What I’m supposed to? Old man, you’ve lost your fucking mind.”

  I didn’t bother with wasting another word on him. I hung up. Arguments with my father were always fruitless. They just resulted in pissing me off.

  T W E N T Y - O N E

  “You have to consider how this will look, Adam. We haven’t even been married five years and you’ve asked for a divorce.”

  Jenny sat on the opposite end of a dining room table that could sit twenty people. I still felt the need to put more space between us. She was pissing me off, but I indulged her. Sat through the “family breakfast” she insisted we should have when I told her we needed to talk. Now I was ready to go, but not before she signed our divorce papers. My lawyer had them delivered to me first thing that morning. I asked her to sign them as soon as we finished eating breakfast.

  “Are you listening to me?” she whined in the annoying nasally voice she used whenever she wanted to get her way.

  It had never worked on me, so why she insisted using it was beyond me. I hated that voice. It caused my willingness to listen to what she had to say to dissipate.

  “Your father won’t allow you to divorce me.” She finished her little tantrum with that tidbit.

  I sighed heavily and cast my gaze to the ceiling. The fool woman didn’t know she was teetering on the edge of my patience. and she’d regret pushing me any further.

  “Just sign the fucking papers, Jenny,” I managed to grit out.

  Rising from my chair, I made my way to her side and placed the pen that she’d refused to take earlier on the table next to her plate. I took a step back and pinned her with a serious stare.

  She glared back defiantly. “No,” she snapped and threw the papers.

  They hit my chest, and I became momentarily distracted, watching as they scattered then fluttered to the tiled floor. Catching me off guard, her hand connected with my cheek. It stung worse than when Eve had hit me. The pain and the taste of blood in my mouth made my dick hard. Her uncharacteristic show of defiance pulled at the baser side of me.