The Pursuit of Passion (Taylor & Adam)

by Liv Bennett

  “You’re saying you’re giving me a chance, because you think my chest is sexy?”

  “At last.” She is done with fastening the buttons.

  It takes a while before I burst into loud, body-wracking laughter. “I ran after you for years, begged you for just one date, and nothing happened. But, revealing my chest did the trick?” I shake my head several times in disbelief.

  “I didn’t know you had such a sexy body. I guess I’m on the lower side of the imagination scale. I have to see it to believe it.” She looks up at me. “And, the near-death experience helped me back to my senses, I guess.”

  “I wish I’d known it before. But, better late than never, right?”

  She shrugs.

  “Answer one more thing. Why didn’t you go out with me within the last month?” I ask.

  “You haven’t asked me out properly since the shooting. Now, I’m paying the half of the bill, or I swear on everything good and holy that you won’t get another chance to see my boobs.”

  “What can I say to that?”

  CHAPTER 7 -TAYLOR

  The food is as exquisite and delicious, as expected for any half-thousand-dollar meal to be. I lost the count of the number of plates we’d been served, after we hit the tenth. I work hard to focus and not moan at the explosion of tastes in my mouth, but I lose control every now and then, and each time I do, Adam’s jaw tightens and his expression hardens. With lust, I guess. A forced ‘I told you so’ smile tugs at his lips, yet his eyes grow distant as if he’s lost in a wistful memory. I know it’s that shameful memory that sweeps him away. I have yet to forgive him for smashing my guards down in a moment of weakness to take advantage of me in public.

  “So.” He drops the chopsticks beside his napkin for the first time during our twenty-minute stay. “Did you go out with Valerie on the double date last night?”

  “Were you eavesdropping on us?”

  “If I were, I wouldn’t be asking you this question. I just heard a small part of the conversation… accidentally.”

  I swallow the tenderest piece of lightly cooked beef I’ve ever eaten, a.k.a. A-5 Kobe beef, and savor its taste and the expectant look on Adam’s face for a few seconds before responding to his inquisition. “Nope, I’ve had enough of dating people I don’t know very well.”

  He arches both eyebrows, a hint of curiosity flashing across his face. “You mean before Jack?”

  “No, Jack was my first boyfriend.”

  “You dated after Jack?” he asks, as if it couldn’t be further from the truth.

  “Why are you surprised? You think I should have waited longer, before I began seeing other men? Maybe, we should just cancel this one right away in order to follow your opinion about my dating habits.” I place the chopsticks, throw the napkin over to the table, and start to get to my feet.

  He reaches out and holds my hand. “No, no, no. I didn’t mean it that way. Please, forgive me.” He chews a small piece of beef slowly, glancing at me only occasionally. I love how I make him feel as if he’s walking on broken glass. He’s burning to ask another question, but I guess he is waiting for the right time.

  He clears his throat but doesn’t lift his head to look at me. I see he’s going for casual. “So, those dates you had—” He pauses to take a sip of sake. “How many men did you actually date?”

  I wish I had a chance to record these next few minutes and watch it again to honor the scene with the hearty laughter that it deserves. It’d make a rare gem of comedy, better than many professionally shot movies.

  He sips more sake, his fingers grasping the edge of the table.

  “Thirty,” I say casually.

  “Thirty?” he repeats and gulps down the entire sake in his glass. Ouch! That must burn. Deep lines form in his eyebrows, and his left eye twitches with a trace of rage. “Thirty. Seriously? I wasn’t expecting that many. I guess I had the wrong impression about you.”

  I won’t ask him his impression about me. I don’t want to hear how well he knows me. And what is thirty compared to the endless number of women he must be hanging out with, or just banging.

  “Have you slept with any of them?” He stops pretending to be casual and stares me directly in the eye, his expression devoid of any softness.

  I grin. “Believe me; you don’t want to know about that.” Oh, the delicious taste of revenge, sweeter than the sweetest deserts.

  “Actually, I do. Please, enlighten me.”

  I shake my head. The waitress brings us the next dish.

  “Surely, you didn’t sleep with all of them, did you?” There is begging in his voice, along with disappointment. I can’t believe I’m enjoying torturing him more than I am enjoying this exquisite meal.

  “No. Of course not. What do you think of me?” I pop a piece of shrimp into my mouth and chew it slowly to relish its delicate taste. He’s completely ignoring his plate now. “One wasn’t my type,” I begin. “One wanted a threesome with me and his girlfriend. And, another one had to leave early. Oh, and, one came only with a blow job, and that doesn’t count as sex in my book.”

  He looks around before shooting his next question, lowering his voice to an almost inaudible level. “Are you saying that you slept with twenty six men?” His eyes look like they will pop out of their sockets. “Twenty six men?” he repeats. I don’t know whether it’s the sake or the shock, but his face turns a deep hue of crimson, tending toward purple. And, the twitching in his left eye spreads over to his cheek.

  “Do you have a problem with it?” I gaze at him, feigning serious and angry. If I’m not successful at running the Edelman Constructions, my next career move will definitely be acting. He inhales deeply to calm himself down, but the redness on his face doesn’t fade away. I should have waited until after the meal, so as not to ruin this expensive and delicious meal for him. He doesn’t reply to my question and just focuses on his food.

  Even though I enjoy bothering him—clearly he looks more than just bothered—he’s taken me to this beautiful restaurant. I should make the dinner as enjoyable for him as well, so I go for changing the topic. “I thought you majored in electrical engineering. How come you know so much about the construction business?”

  He lifts his face to look at me, his brows still pulled together. “Haven’t you read my resume?”

  “Huh? No. I never thought about it, actually. I just trusted you.” As my aunt always says ‘A little flattery is never a bad idea, when it comes to winning a man’s heart.’

  His features soften; a hint of smile appears on his lips. “I started out in the electrical engineering department, but Jack’s father had convinced me to work part-time and during summers at his company since high school. It was more fun than work really. I had so much hands-on experience in construction that it’d be a pity not to take advantage of it. So I doubled in civil engineering.”

  “And you had an MBA later, too,” I add, remembering the three courses I’m lacking to finish my Sociology degree. The responsibility of running Jack’s company has overwhelmed me. But, if I hadn’t met Jack, I’d probably be struggling to earn a PhD and have a huge debt with student loans. I may not be a born leader; but I’m improving in my managerial skills every day. Knowing my limits, I’m certain I wouldn’t have come as far as the CEO of a company if Jack hadn’t entered my life. My career turned out to be much better than I had imagined it would. It’s all thanks to Jack. Nonetheless, acknowledging that simple fact makes me feel like a ruthless gold-digger.

  “Are you considering taking those last courses and getting your diploma?” Adam asks, pulling me away from my thoughts.

  “I should, right?”

  He nods. “Of course, you should. You can take evening or weekend classes, like Bree is doing. And before you know it, your diploma will be hanging on the wall in your office.” His voice is calmer now. I think he’s already forgotten about my little joke.

  “Bree is taking evening classes? I had no idea.”

  His lips finally curl up into
a smile. “She talks about her classes all the time. Haven’t you been paying attention?”

  I shake my head in response.

  “On a company scholarship that Jack arranged for her years ago. She’s actually getting her degree at the end of this semester.”

  “What is she majoring in?”

  “Economics.”

  My jaw drops with surprise. I’d considered studying Economics only to shy away because of the sheer number of math classes.

  “You should really put in an effort to read your employees’ resumes. Listening to what they say wouldn’t hurt, either.” His features are playful now, and I can see he’s trying hard not to burst into laughter.

  “Yeah, right.” I pick up a ball of black caviar and throw it at him, but I feel immediately guilty when it lands on his crisp white shirt, forming a circle of oily stain. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”

  Before I can move, he’s pointing his forefinger smeared with soy sauce at me, with a wicked grin on his face.

  “No, you’re not ruining my clothes.” I hold my palms up to him to shield myself. “Please, don’t.”

  He narrows his eyes, shaking his head, but his dirty finger is still nearing me. “You ruined my shirt and you’ll pay for it.”

  I drop my hands and wait for my punishment. I let out a breath of relief when his finger skips my clothes and lands on my throat, smudging the soy sauce all over it. His touch heightens my senses and freezes me in my chair. I don’t need to look at him to know his hot gaze is on me, burning holes in my skin.

  The waitress comes, interrupting our little dirty foreplay, and serves us blue fish tuna. We eat quietly until the end of the meal, but every time I look at him, I catch his gaze traveling down my throat. I have no doubt he’ll find a way to lick the soy off of me.

  We share the bill, as agreed, and say our thank-you’s to Chef Yoshida. Even after all my complaints about the price, I think I’ll come back to eat here again.

  Adam puts his hand on the small of my back, as we walk out to his car, and opens the door for me. After settling in his seat and starting the engine, he turns to me. “I don’t have plans for a threesome. I don’t have any time constraints. And, I think I’m your type, well at least my chest is. So, I can assume that I’ll be one of the many lucky guys who got laid by you,” he says, emphasizing on many. I eye the stain on his shirt, feeling guilty for ruining a nice piece of clothing. It must have cost a lot of money, too. Shit.

  “Don’t push your luck.” Pulling out a tube of dark pink lipstick and a compact, I coat my lips and check them in the compact mirror. I dare a glance at Adam’s face and find his eyes watching my lips more intently than I’ve watched them in the mirror. My heart hammers at the naughtiness of the thoughts he must be entertaining.

  An audacious smile plays at the corner of his mouth. “Why? The statistics are on my side.”At this very moment, it dawns on me why and how I could allow him to finger me in public. He radiates an offhanded sexual aura that promises a raw, passionate, and primal fuck. And, it renders me helpless and overwhelmed, as if I’m a butterfly on a spider web. “Don’t worry. We won’t be doing anything you don’t want. I promised to ask clearly and well in advance before I intend to do something. Remember?” With that, he focuses his attention on the road, releasing me from the momentary hypnosis, and drives out of the parking lot to Wilshire, toward my home.

  I don’t dare speak on the way. I showed him my boobs, lied to him about the high number of sex/date ratio, and now I’m letting him drive me home. Am I ready for the next step? Maybe rather than pondering it to death, I should just follow my instincts, give Adam the one chance he’s been pleading all these years for, and maybe experience a unique night that will, hopefully, help me break free from my grief.

  After the ride, Adam comes up to my door—expecting otherwise would be just naïve—and stands at the doorway, begging me with his puppy eyes to let him in. I hold the doorknob and stand between him and the door, taking care to keep my poker face, although my knees are shaking at the close proximity of his body.

  “I think that’s it… unless you want to invite me in for a cup of coffee.” He grins as he says the last word, as if he meant it as a code word for something else.

  “I do, actually, want some coffee and it’d be pity to drink it all by myself.” I lift my eyebrows for an effect, but don’t open the door yet, enjoying making him suffer this way a little longer. “But, you need to promise me you won’t mention anyone about… the coffee.”

  He runs his fingers across his lips as if to zip them up. “My lips are sealed.”

  I push open the door, step aside to let him pass, and check the hallway for an eavesdropper. Having neighbors gossip about me is the last thing I need on my way to finally having another man in my life.

  I close the door and lean my back against it as I free my feet from the high heels. The tight jacket is bothering me, too, but that’ll have to wait a little longer.

  I find Adam studying an oil painting of a woman holding her infant baby on her bare chest. I realize it’s his first time at my home. Although he was Jack’s best friend, he always came up with excuses to pass on our dinner invitations. Who’d know coffee would make him change his mind.

  “The lady in the painting looks a lot like you,” Adam points out, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

  I nod. “Jack bought it exactly for that reason. I guess I have a doppelgänger somewhere.”

  “I should have known it before.” His eyes focused back on the painting, he crosses one arm over his chest and rests the other on top of it, running his fingers along his chin.

  “Why?” I frown. It’s not like he’s so into me that he’d go after my doppelgänger .

  “Like you don’t know why.”

  I sit on the love seat and tap on the space beside me, gesturing him to come and leave the painting alone. He loosens his tie as he sinks to the couch next to me, so close that our legs brush.

  Suddenly the thought of being naked in front of Adam doesn’t seem as comfortable as it did when I flashed him my boobs. Hesitantly, I look up at him and see his eyes lingering around my lips, most likely mapping out the right angles to launch on them.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers and lifts his hand to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. The tenderness in his voice helps me stay a little calmer, despite the hard lines set across his face, as though telling me there is no escape from what is about to come.

  Between his heavy breaths, he cups my face and strokes my lips with his thumb. “I’m gonna kiss you, if you don’t have any objection to it.”

  My pulse shooting up, I give my head a little nod, hypnotized by his eyes, paralyzed by his touch. He dips his head and tenderly brushes his lips against mine. I can barely react to his kiss, his lips sucking mine softly. As soon as I part my lips, his tongue invades my mouth. His hands remain on my face, never giving me an opportunity to escape, while his tongue explores my mouth and tongue, searching and possessive.

  When I give in and let my tongue wrestle with his, he slides a hand to unbutton my jacket and begins fondling my chest through the transparent blouse. It doesn’t take long before his hand alights on my breast. His thumb draws circles around my nipple before pinching it and then he tugs it toward him. Just like Jack used to do.

  Jack, Jack, Jack.

  I close my eyes so I can erase Jack from my mind for a moment and focus on Adam’s kiss. But, as I open them again, a sudden fear takes over me when I realize Jack will see me. He’ll be watching everything his best friend is about do to me in the next minutes.

  “What is it?” Adam pulls away his lips and hands off of me.

  How can I tell him about my disturbing thoughts of the ghost of my husband peeping on us? I can’t imagine a shorter way to get labeled as crazy. “I don’t think I’m ready for this. I’m sorry.”

  “No, no. Don’t be sorry. It’s my fault. I pushed you too far. I don’t usually go this fast, but I... I lose all my
control around you.”

  His care and affection bothers me. My attraction to him bothers me and makes me feel like a cheater, as if Jack wasn’t dead. Oh, hell. There, I march right back to the beginning of my grief process, denying his death. Hot tears begin rolling down my cheek, yet it isn’t sadness or grief. It is pure anger at myself and at my stubborn unwillingness to accept that Jack’s gone forever and to move on.

  “Do you want me to go?” Adam asks softly.

  I don’t want him go. I want my disturbing thoughts out and gone. “Please, wait,” I say and hurry to my bedroom. I won’t let this chance slip away from my fingers so easily. Adam is probably the only man who can give me physical pleasure without making me feel fearful or disgusted by his presence, and my one and only ticket out of my creepy life. And, I am going to have sex with him tonight no matter what it takes.

  I slide open the mirrored closet door in my bedroom and find at the back of my clothes the nurse uniform that is still wrapped in its plastic bag. I’d bought it as a special treat for Jack’s birthday, but the accident come before the birthday.

  Ripping off the plastic bag, I pull out the nurse costume, which is more like a long vest, with a red-cross sign on the left pocket and buttons that start way below the chest line. I watch myself in the mirror as I change into the costume and place the stethoscope around my neck.

  My legs look too bare and plain as opposed to the eye-catching dress. I look for thigh highs in the drawer and grab a pair of light pink with lace tops. Together, with the white high heels that I keep only for special occasions—can there be another occasion more special than this—I look like an expensive whore. Not a bit like me, the ever-grieving widow. As a finishing touch, I apply a red lipstick on my dry lips and give my hair a final fluff.

  My heart is racing as I make my entrance into the living room and stand with a hand on my hip right in front of Adam. His face goes from stunned to confused and finally lights up into a bright grin.

  “There is nothing to grin about, Mr. Garnett,” I say, working to speak with a deeper tone. I don’t sound like me at all, either. Which is just the way I want it. Not being me. “Your blood analysis came up with negative results.”