I Am Eve

by Nicolina Martin

  “We’re taking them out?” asks Coran.

  Adam shrugs. “Just kick them out.”

  “Well, that’s a death sentence too.”

  “I don’t have an issue with that. Eve, do you have an issue with that?”

  I try not to smile. It doesn’t seem appropriate, given the harsh subject. It makes me seem vindictive. But then again, maybe I am? Maybe I can be? Maybe some evil deserves evil in return? I shrug. “I trust you to do what’s right.”

  Adam plants a kiss on my forehead.

  “Got water, boss!” comes a voice crackling over the radio.

  “I’ll take care of things, Pi,” says Coran. “You go wash.”

  Adam rises, still holding me to his chest. “Radio me if you want something. But trust me, you do not want something for the next couple of hours.”

  “Affirmative,” says Coran, and there’s a light playfulness hidden in that one word that makes my cheeks burn. His steps grow fainter, and finally all I hear is the combined breaths from Adam and me.

  “Let’s go find a bathroom,” says Adam.

  “You can put me down. I can walk.”

  “Girl, you have all the time in the world to learn the layout of this place later. It’s also fucking crowded with random ugly-ass armchairs and couches. It’s a mess. I’ll have it cleaned out so you won’t hurt yourself. For now, let me take care of you.”

  I wrap my arms around Adam’s neck and rest my cheek against his shoulder as we move through the house. Inhaling the tantalizing scent of his shirt, all the memories from back in my house come rushing to the surface. And they’re good. They’re all sweet, delicious, precious gems.

  “You’re a good man.”

  He barks out a laugh. “Oh no, I’m not.”

  “Your heart is in the right place. You care about people. You are a real, good person.”

  “I have killed more people than I can count—”

  “Because they deserved it.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about fucking you despite my son being in another county in the care of people that aren’t me, and you being covered in blood from the last man I killed.”

  I squirm, my every nerve ending awakening from his words. “Because you need it.”

  He groans as he puts me down. “I’m gonna run a shower for us.” He shifts, and I turn to the sound of water that begins to clatter on tiles. “I need you, Eve. Not ‘it’. I need you so fucking much. Before I met you, I didn’t know I missed a compass in my life. I had nothing to show me a way forward. I had no purpose. No hope. Those days with you… You have no idea. You really did take my scream, my tears. You collected them and made them beautiful.”

  “Collector of tears?”

  “Yes. My collector of tears.”

  I smile. I like it. I don’t cry a lot myself. I learned early that there was no use. But I have collected others. It’s true. Maybe everyone has their life’s predestined fill of tears, and this is how I use up mine? Through others.

  “Come.” Adam lifts the jacket off my shoulders and takes my hand, guiding me into a soft stream of pleasantly warm water.

  I turn up my face and let the cleansing begin. It’s going to take an ocean to get rid of the feel of the dead man’s remains off my skin.

  Adam steps in behind me. His massive body covers my whole backside and his penis nestles between my buttocks, thickening, stiffening. It does things to me. Strange, beautiful things. There is so much to explore. So much man to taste. Skin. Strength. Lethal, murderous, righteous strength. I lean my head back further, baring my throat, resting against his shoulder.

  “Let me shampoo your hair,” he mumbles against my ear. A click sounds and my nose is filled with the scent of sandalwood and cinnamon. “Let’s get my baby clean.”

  “That’s going to be rough. I have a lot of hair. Let me kneel before you, help you reach better.”

  Adam’s tantalizing appendage grows to its full length, pressing against my butt. He groans. “Woman!” He inhales, then exhales shakily. “Well, what are you waiting for? Kneel before me.”

  The air in the room thickens, and the steam that rises between us isn’t only from the hot water. I turn, slowly, careful not to slip. I want this man and everything he offers. I will take what he gives and I will give in return. My heart is his, and so is every inch of my body. The world turns, and there is so much to do, but it can wait just a little while longer. Here and now, there’s Adam and Eve and this is where it begins.

  Putting my hands on his slick, hairy chest, I let my palms slide lower as I sink to my knees and close my eyes.

  “I’m yours.”

  Rubbing his hands in my hair, working my scalp, he fights to get the remains of the monster off me, to cleanse me and make me new. I can’t take my hands off him. Much like I have made images out of faces my whole life, I now stroke the tips of my fingers along powerful hips. I make a model of Adam in my mind, make an imprint. I find a mouthwatering V-shape that converges where his rich bush of hair rests over his thick manhood.

  He jerks as I touch him there. “Oh yes,” he breathes. “Go on.”

  His strong hands feel like heaven. He massages too much shampoo into my wild tresses, but he can’t possibly know how much time it will take to get it all out. On the other hand, I’m endlessly grateful for the help getting rid of the blood. His movements slow as I put my lips to the tip of his hard length. I open my mouth, tasting him like he once tasted me. I don’t really know what I’m doing, but Adam does it for me. He fists his hands in my hair as the water pounds down on us and guides himself between my lips, holding me tight. He’s silky, and salty-sweet on my tongue as he moves in me, finding a slow rhythm.

  “Open up, Eve,” he moans. “Take me. And no teeth, cariña.”

  I kind of understood that all by myself. Fighting to accommodate his girth, I put one hand between my legs and find my pace together with him as he thrusts deeper. It’s slightly uncomfortable, thrilling, and so, so good. He strains me in all the right ways, his moans shooting darts of heat to my core, melting away everything that has been, all the evil dissipating down the drain along with the blood and the filth.

  He stops, rests his hand loosely on my head, then pulls out as he cups my cheek, then my chin.

  “Let me make love to you.”

  “Where?” I breathe.

  His hand slides to my neck and tightens around it, pulling me to my feet. As I stand, Adam is careful to hold me while he pushes me back until I’m pressed against the chilly tiled wall.

  “I don’t care. Here. Everywhere.”

  I inhale to answer that yes, now, everywhere, always, but in the next moment his lips are on mine, stealing every thought, every molecule of air and sanity.

  Adam has eight arms and eight legs. He’s all over me. His hands on my breasts, long fingers pushing inside my slick channel, preparing me for his entry, for taking me and making me his all over again. His mouth never leaves mine as he grabs my waist and hoists me up against the wall. I wrap my legs around his hips and feel. Him. Hard, poking at my entrance. Arousal hits me like a freight train at feeling him again, so needy, so desperate for me. I tilt my hips, and in the next moment he pushes inside, all the way. All the air leaves my lungs from the impact.

  No one moves.

  No one breathes.

  In the silence, his body asks for my gift – to give myself fully and completely – to trust him to take care of me. In the silence, I answer.

  Yes.

  He knows.

  He moves, pulls back a little, and then spears me again, driving his hard length into me. Over and over. Water pounds us from above. The shampoo situation rectifies itself. Not a drop of blood, not a fragment of soap, will remain in this wet mayhem.

  Adam’s rough handling is just right, rubs my front, sensitizes my clitoris, chafes my nether flesh and makes me raw and susceptible. My insides quiver, tender and tense, as the pressure builds. I clench my thighs harder around his hips, crush him to me as he drives m
e up the wall in his frenzy. Fire shoots to between my legs in a pulsing rhythm that makes me call out His name in vain.

  “God!”

  Wave after mad wave of convulsions wrack my body. My mind explodes in a vortex of colors and patterns as Adam’s pace increases before he roars out his own release.

  “I love you, Eve!”

  I stroke everything I can reach. His head with the long hair plastered over his shoulders, his neck beneath, down along his back, his butt, his sides. I sneak my hands in between us and dig my fingers into his chest hair. I can’t get enough of him.

  “I want to do that again,” I gasp and rock my hips on his still hard flesh.

  “Just let me go make us a bed. A bed for my queen.”

  I smile. “I accept that.”

  He chuckles as he carefully lets me back down on legs that have turned to jelly. “You accept that, huh? Well good, because it will be a while before you get to come back up for air.”

  “I need to eat,” I say.

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “I have no clothes.”

  “We’ll find some.”

  “Adam.”

  “Mm-hmm.” He wraps a towel around me. It smells of green apples.

  “I love you too.”

  Pulling me into his embrace, his strong arms circling my shoulders, he leans his forehead against mine.

  “My goddess. My queen. My crazy, amazing collector of tears.”

  “No more tears,” I say.

  “There will always be tears.”

  “Not in my kingdom,” I say and put my hand on my belly as a sizzling energy trickles through me, making goosebumps run amok along my back. I don’t know how I know, but like with all those other things, I just do.

  It shouldn’t be possible. If I’ve had the infection, I should be barren, but I suddenly know. Just like I hear things, feel them, taste them, and smell them, I know that there’s been a shift in my hormones.

  There is a new life growing in me. It has been growing for a few days – six, to be precise – but I haven’t been paying attention.

  Adam intertwines his fingers with mine and holds his hand there too, going absolutely still. No one breathes. We’re nothing but beating hearts and reawakened minds. His silent question permeates the air. I squeeze his hand and nod. I have an answer for my king.

  Yes.

  Epilogue

  Adam

  We have a large farm that is a safe place for hundreds of competent, hard-working men and women. There are crops and animals. A supply chain is in place with exchanges of services and goods. We have control over water and energy in two adjacent counties.

  It’s not much, but it’s everything anyone could ask for.

  Eve donated a small amount of her blood, and after some testing, a veterinarian on the farm, a woman we saved the day we took down the farmer, started producing a serum, inoculating the people. It turns out they produce antibodies and stay fertile.

  Eve is the vaccine. Eve is the savior of mankind.

  Maybe it’s her mutation. Maybe it’s a coincidence. Maybe it’s divine intervention. It doesn’t matter. We will never know, and I will never let her become a guinea pig.

  The blind freak will be the mother of the new, stronger race. On the outside, the world is slowly perishing, but we’re managing. We help those who find us, but we can’t save everyone. We won’t save everyone. That’s the cold hard truth.

  Her belly grows, and her curves have become rounded, mouthwateringly feminine. I never thought I’d open my heart again. Not after losing everyone I loved. But there’s Toad, there’s Eve, and our little miracle we have yet to name.

  Eve

  When I wake at night, my fingers twitch, creating shapes in my mind, forming a face I will soon know, the new life, the new world.

  Adam holds me then, pulls me to him and wraps all his arms and legs around me until our three bodies sing as one.

  I don’t hear the screams anymore. We have cried our tears and mourned our losses. We dare to touch each other again within the safety of our haven, our paradise. There is life, and it’s ours to live.

  As my belly grows, and the flutter from a new creation hovers beneath my heart, a song has taken over. The words are slowly beginning to make sense.

  It sings of a life free from fear.

  It sings of love, strength, and compassion.

  It sings of a new beginning.

  Acknowledgments

  I could not have done this without the support of a few lovely people; family, friends, and professionals.

  Amanda, Olivia, and Agnes. My three beautiful daughters,

  Mr. Martin, you make me want to be a better person.

  Dani René, thank you for the AMAZING cover!

  Nerine Dorman, my talented editor.

  Sheri Mireles for proofreading.

  About the Author

  Nicolina Martin is a Swedish born author who escapes the long, dark winter nights by writing hot contemporary romance/suspense.

  She’s a mother of three teenage girls, a medical doctor, a quirky loner, and a social human being. She has traveled the globe, has had more lovers than she can count, has loved and hated, succeeded and failed, has gone through marriage and divorce. She has seen darkness and despair, as well as light and happiness. All these experiences, she pours into her tales, taking her readers for a wild ride while twisting their minds. She loves showing that stories can be different even if the trope is the same.

  Nicolina believes that life is too short for regrets and in looking forward, no matter what. She wants to enjoy every moment, and cherish life.

  ‘I Am Eve’ is Nicolina’s twelfth published book.

  www.nicolinamartin.com

  Also by Nicolina Martin

  Break My Chains

  Commanding Casey

  Mortem

  Heat - Russo Saga Book

  Ruin - Russo Saga Book Two

  Shame - Russo Saga Book Three

  Redemption - Russo Saga Book Four

  Absolution - Russo Saga Book Five

  Capo - Russo Saga Book Six

  Her Vampire Hero

  Back of the Bus

  Boxset:

  Russo Saga Collection

  NEWSLETTER

  Excerpt from Commanding Casey

  Chapter One

  Casey

  The increasing pressure in my ears makes me jolt awake. In the first few moments, my skin aches as if I had just been hit, but looking around me in the quiet airplane cabin, I come back to the present. It’s been two years since the assault. He will never get to me again. I rub my thighs as if rubbing off the memory of the pain. The dreams still come on occasion. Hearing the name Alex makes my heart race. Still.

  We’re descending fast. It’s the second time we switch planes on this seemingly endless journey.

  There is time for a coffee, a sandwich, and a phone call.

  “Mama?”

  “Casey! How are you? Where are you?”

  “I’m somewhere in Canada.”

  “So many hours, dear. Your father has worn down the floor with his pacing. You know how he feels about you leaving.”

  “He knows why I’m leaving. Can I talk to him?”

  She sighs. “He still talks about shipping that monster off on a boat, just leaving him with no engine in the middle of the Atlantic.”

  I laugh, despite my gnawing worry that this trip is an awful idea. The further I get, the more my insides hurt. I’d pace a floor too if I could. “He’d only float on the Gulf Stream down to the Bahamas, and then find a way back.”

  “Are you doing all right? Are you eating?”

  “Mm-hmm.” I take a bite and chew loudly.

  “Okay, I hear you.”

  I glance up at the monitor. Boarding has begun. “I gotta run.”

  “Your brother says… I’ll translate that to ‘hi.’” Her voice is muffled when she tells my teen bro that ‘dickhead’ isn’t an appropriate word to call his sis
ter. “Call us when you get there.”

  “As soon as I can.” I grin. I love my kid brother. He loves to tease me. I’m eight years his senior and I was always the stronger when we fought, up until a year ago when he started packing.

  We say our ‘I love yous’ as I make my way to the gate and the stewardess for the final leg on my journey.

  The plains below us make me think about plane crashes, about what would happen if we went down in the Alaskan wilderness. There’s nothing here. I haven’t seen any signs of civilization for a long while. I can’t believe this state is so vast.

  Glancing around me, at the other five passengers in the little cabin, I wonder if we’ll start gnawing on each other’s flesh. Who will perish first? Who will take the lead? I don’t have a lot of meat on my bones, but I think the sweaty guy with the comb-over in the front, the one who pushed me on his way up the stairs, would make a fine meal. He’d last for days.

  I swallow and glance out the window again. At least we’d have water. I have seen nothing but snow for a long while.

  Rubbing my face, I try to shake off the morbid thoughts. I don’t need to get crushed in twisted metal in a plane crash; I feel like I’m dying anyway.

  It all started with a tense call from Susan, my lawyer. She sounded professional, as always, but I heard in her voice that something was wrong. Alex is being released early, in exactly three days from now, for ‘good behavior.’

  Good behavior. He’s a monster, a predator. He should never go free again.

  I would have laughed, had I not been so afraid. He had beaten me bloody when people came to my help. It happened so fast. He cornered me in that alley. A few more steps and I’d have been safe inside the Uber I’d called. I didn’t know that he was following me. I hadn’t teased him. He was flirty, I was flattered, maybe there was a blush and a giggle, but fuck, I hadn’t teased him. I don’t even dress like a girl with my Doc Martens, my dirty overalls and messy hair. I thought he was fun, a friend, and he tried to rape me.