Page 8

Jason

The roar of my motor as I travel down the freeway drops to a deep purr as I approach the exit near the university. It’s been a week since the cremation, and I haven’t seen Eve since. Granted, we exchanged personal numbers so that she could give me the information on the memorial today, but texting and phone calls aren’t the same. Last time we were in close proximity to each other, we both came to the same realization: we feel a connection. There’s something there, drawing us to each other, and I intend to find out what that is.

A glare from my right catches my eye, and I glance over at the obsidian box nestled on the passenger seat. The dark surface and endless facets reflect the sunlight, the beams dancing around my car for a few moments before the trees on the offramp block out the glow of the sun.

Already I can see the parking lot for the university is nearly filled, but I set my sights on the sign that says “EDUCATOR PARKING ONLY.” Eve had told me that there would be a spot there for me, and after a few minutes of weaving between the oblivious college kids meandering through the parking lot, I finally find a clear space among the faculty vehicles.

Stepping out of my car, I brush my suit and adjust my cufflinks, the small gold hearts mirroring the gold buttons seated against the dark emerald of my jacket. Making my way to the passenger side and carefully removing the box from the seat, I slip my keys in my pocket and proceed through the double doors nearby. The large gymnasium is filled with people, professors and students alike, and as I scan the room, I feel a hand on my shoulder, sliding down to my bicep and turning me around.

Eve’s green eyes meet mine with such intensity I almost miss the fact that she’s dressed to kill, wearing a sinfully tight skirt suit in shades of green that almost matches my own. A look of relief washes over her face as her gaze travels down to the box in my arms.

“Jason, thank you so much for doing this,” she says as she carefully takes the box, holding it close and stroking the lid. “The container is beautiful, it’s just what I had in mind. Dad would’ve loved this.”

“Well I appreciate you trusting me with the selection, and with bringing it here. How has it been so far?”

Eve lets out a tremendous sigh, and motions for me to walk with her as we head over to the backside of the auditorium.

“It’s been manageable so far,” she says, doing a horrible job of masking her exhaustion. “Coordinating everything with the school, ensuring that the couriers were bringing all of my father’s effects on time, dealing with these students who were angry they couldn’t play basketball today…it’s been a lot to juggle.”

We approach a long wooden table, a large photo of her father mounted on the wall behind, with dozens of antiques and historical memorabilia scattered about. Some had information placards, some were small baubles of a personally sentimental nature, and in the middle was a raised platform surrounded by photos of him and Eve. Eve places the container on the platform and I watch her as she makes a few adjustments to the surrounding items.

As she fidgets with the treasures on the table, a photo to the left catches my attention. Two tigers, entwined with each other in a giant ball: one with the other’s leg in its mouth, and the other with its counterpart’s ear trapped in its teeth. A circle of death.

I lean in a little closer to read the description on the placard.

TWO TIGERS

The Two Tigers is a popular Chinese nursery rhyme: while the song is well known to be about two tiger cubs playing and running through the woods, studies have shown that alternate translations depict two tigers playing and wrestling to the point where they begin to bite off body parts. A symbol of two strong forces coexisting, but to the detriment and eventual annihilation of each other.

I glance back at Eve, finishing up her rearranging of the items on the table before stepping back near me and surveying her work.

“I can feel you watching me,” she says without looking at me as she steps back by my side. “You were watching me at the cremation, too…”

“I was,” I confess. “I was reading your face, your grief. Everybody handles loss differently; everybody tries to mask it. You were no different. Except…”

My voice trails off as Eve turns to face me.

“Except what, Jason?”

“Except you didn’t cry. Not like how others do. Most people bawl or sob or spend as long as they can clinging to their loved ones. But you didn’t.”

Eve remains silent, yet I can see in her eyes that she’s thinking about it, crafting a response. I try to stop her before she can. I don’t want her to give me some prepared pitch about how or why she reacted the way she did to seeing her father in that coffin. I want her to tell me the truth.

“Eve, don’t think about it, don’t worry about sounding polite or saying the correct thing. You were obviously very close with your father, so I want to know, in your heart and soul…why didn’t you cry?”

The green in her eyes flashes for a moment, as if she’s bothered at my persistence, but as her eyes dart back and forth between mine, she takes a breath and crosses her arms.

“I did love my father, yes. He was my only family, and we were close; not just because we worked together. We’ve been that way our whole lives. I was SO young when my mother died, and my father raised me. He did an amazing job; I couldn’t have asked for a better dad. But…”

She pauses for a moment, looking at the photo of her father behind the table, and continues as she remains fixated on him.

“I’ve never felt emotions the same way others do. I don’t feel…sadness…like others do.” Her voice carries a weight of vulnerability. “I used to blame it on having a practical nature, how my father was the happy-go-lucky optimist, and how I would try to see situations for what they were and try to understand them. Then, as the years progressed, I realized that there was something…wrong…with me. Something inside that wasn’t right.”

Her head slowly turns back my way as she looks up at me.

“It’s like standing in the rain and never getting wet. I see the storm, but the drops don’t reach me. I understand loss, sadness, sorrow…but I can’t express how those emotions make me feel. Because I don’t think I truly FEEL them.”

Her gaze meets mine, searching for understanding in my eyes. I relate to her so much more than she knows, and for a second we stand staring at each other, a silent exchange of energy and reassurance.

“Eve? Eve O’Hara?”

A loud, shrill voice snaps Eve’s focus from me as she glances behind me, and I turn to see a short, portly woman scurrying across the gym floor. She looks from me to Eve, disregarding my presence as she walks in front of me and gives Eve a seemingly heartfelt hug. Eve’s arms remain pinned at her sides, her face looking at me with annoyance as the woman releases her and steps back.

“I just wanted to offer my condolences for the loss of your father. He was a giant in the historical community, and we are all so grateful for his contributions, and the impact he had on the young minds of our town.”

Eve’s looks at me, her eyes widen in a look that can only be described as “fuck my life.” I chuckle, raising my hands and taking a step back: with her hand at her side, she tosses me a quick middle finger and I chuckle loudly.

As I wait for Eve to finish her conversation with this stranger, I slip my hands into my pockets, my fingertips grazing something smooth, cool, rigid surface. My access card to Clover’s VIP lounge dances through my fingers as I grasp and palm it, the sound of Eve’s voice fading into the distance as my mind is transported to the gold room, imagining the client I will have waiting for me tonight. I’ve been busy this week, and last night’s client was…tough. Very tough. I’m feeling a little worn from the idea of back-to-back performances, and as I pray that tonight’s show goes by quickly, I hear Eve’s voice rising as she tries to get my attention.

“Jason? JASON? Where did you go right now?”

My eyes refocus as I see the woman had already left, and Eve now stands alone before me with a look of concern. Her thick red hair cascades over her shoulders as she crosses her arms in front of her. The low neckline of her suit does little to hide the swell of her breasts as she props them up against her forearms.

Inviting. Deliberate.

She’s teasing me.

“Jason, my eyes are up here,” Eve says with a chuckle, not bothering to move her arms and relieve me of the temptation that she must know is crossing my mind.

“Eve…” I say, averting my gaze and slowly dragging my eyes from her breasts to her exposed collarbone, to the slim lines of her neck. Fixated, I clench my jaw in an attempt to stifle the low rumble that somehow manages to escape my throat. She swallows hard, her lips parting slightly in a raspy exhale that is enough to stir me in ways I haven’t felt in years.

“You can’t be doing things like that,” her words are breathy as her eyes lock onto my mouth, her green eyes brightening with budding electricity. “There are dozens of people here right now wanting to talk to me and I can’t be…distracted…”

I step forward, my body brushing hers, and she doesn’t move. She stands her ground, looking down to my chest and gingerly places her hand over my heart as she did back at the mortuary. Her face lifts to meet mine, the electricity in her eyes giving way to clouds of lust as she presses her palm into my jacket and begins to curl her fingers, as if trying to dig into my skin through my clothes.

Instantly my cock stiffens, her eyes widening as she can feel the proof of my arousal pressed against her leg. As my eyes bore into her, she gives the slightest nod, invisible to everyone around but me. Granting me silent permission.

I want her.

I want her now, and no force on this entire planet is going to stop me.

Grasping her hand, I turn and begin to lead us towards the stairs on the far side of the auditorium. She doesn’t say a word, just follows my lead as we scale the steps together and turn sharply down the hallway nearby.

“Where.”

It’s not a question, more of a demand. She has been here before with her father and knows this place better than I do.

“Left. Faculty bathroom.” Her reply is short. Desperate. Needy.

I fucking love it.

We pass a few doors before reaching the bathroom: Eve pops her head in to make sure nobody is inside and turns to pull me in after her.

The door clicks behind me as I stare down at Eve, so fierce and wild, and I am overcome by a surge of desire that has me blinded to everything but the woman in front of me. Reaching towards her, I rest my fingers on her jaw, sliding my hand along its length until I’m cupping the side of her face.

Eve nestles her head into my palm, and looks up at me with those eyes, like pools of emeralds on fire. The corners of her mouth pull upwards in a twisted, mischievous grin, and something in me snaps. I can’t help myself, and in seconds I slide my hand to the back of her neck, snaking my fingers through her hair and grabbing a fistful. I pull her head back and tilt her face up as I step close to her, driving her back until she pushes up against the counter, my body molded to hers as I move to wrap my other arm around her waist.

As the pressure of my body against hers bends her backwards over the counter, a groan escapes her lips, her pain becoming my pleasure when I dip my head down and crash my lips into hers. I devour her, biting her bottom lip until she obliges and parts her mouth for me, allowing me access. There's a raw, primal energy as our tongues dance, fighting for dominance and control as she presses her body back against me in a desperate attempt to take charge.

I don’t give her that chance.

Oh Princess…you have no idea who you’re dealing with, do you?

My hand still in her hair, I back away from the counter and tug her towards me, our mouths continuing their assault on each other until I pull away, looking down at this animal of a woman who even now is still trying to reach for my mouth.

“Eve..” I groan as I turn us both in place and walk her backwards until her back is to the handicapped stall door.

“Eve…do you remember what I said back at the mortuary? At the cremation?”

She looks at me, rising on her toes to bring her face as close to mine as possible: I allow her lips to brush mine, but remain just out of reach to her. She lets out a frustrated, needy moan, not bothering to stop as she breathes out her answer.

“You said….you said you take what you want…”

“Yes, I did,” I say, tightening my grip around her waist as I hold her immobile and stare down at her.

She writhes against me like a cat in heat, easing a knee between my legs and sliding it up until her hip brushes against my erection.

“Eve…fuuuck…”

She slows her grinding as I use the leverage of my hand in her hair to force her gaze to mine.

“I want you. I want to feel you, to taste you, to leave you so senseless that every time you even consider fucking another man, your pussy throbs in memory of what I’ve done to you.”

I move my hand from her waist and push the door open, walking forward as my body forces her into the bathroom stall. My eyes are still locked on hers as I reach behind me to lock the door.

“I won’t be gentle…”

I kiss her aggressively, taking my hand from the nape of her heck and holding her face in my palm. Deepening the kiss, I thrust my tongue as far back into her throat as I can. She moans loudly against my mouth, drunk on lust as I rob her of precious air. After a minute I pull away, her mouth following me as she sucks for breath.

“I won’t be patient…”

Reaching under her skirt, I drag my hands along the silk of her thighs, my fingers pressing into her flesh until I feel the thin lace of her underwear. Grasping with both hands, I grip the fabric and pull, tearing it apart and wrenching it from beneath her skirt.

Eve gasps as I raise the torn panties and hold them in the air between us, a look of slight surprise on her face. I lean in and drag my tongue across her bottom lip, nipping slightly as I move from her mouth down to her neck. She tosses her head back as I press harder against her skin with fervor, her skin sweet and salty and warm. Keeping my mouth working on her neck, I grasp her hands and bring her wrists together in front of her. Using the ripped fabric in my fist, I tie her hands together, relishing in how Eve squirms at the feel of it.

I spin her around and give her a slight push, her body crashing against the door of the stall as her eyes widen. I take a second to soak her in. Her messy hair, breasts pushed together by her arms as her tied wrists come to rest in front of her legs, her skirt hiked up and skin flushed.

Goddamn, she is a delicious fucking sight.

“I won’t stop until I’m satisfied…” I growl as I step towards her, taking her wrists and raising her hands up and behind her head, snagging the fabric on the small metal purse hook fixed to the top of the door. Reaching for the buttons on her jacket, I deftly undo each one until just a low, plain white tank is exposed, her nipples hard and poking through the fabric.

I grin at her, wild with desire as I cup each of her breasts in my hands, thumbing their peaks in rough, steady circles until her thighs clench together.

“Jason…Jason, please…”

The sound of Eve begging, her voice so husky and thick, is sweet music to my ears. I lean my head down to take a nipple in my mouth, wetting the fabric and rolling the bud lightly between my teeth.

She drags out a moan as her knees bend slightly, and I take the opportunity to slip my hand between her legs and slowly, languidly move my hand up until I feel wetness on her inner thigh.

“Ready for me so soon, Princess?” I say with a deep chuckle as I move my mouth from her breast and up to her mouth, kissing her with a sense of intensity that I’ve never felt before. I am hungry for this woman. Primal. Feral. And right now all I see in front of me is eager prey, anxious to be devoured.

And I do.

I latch onto her mouth as my hand grazes the apex of her thighs, smooth and slick and warm: I kick one of her legs to the side and waste no time running my fingers along her slit, feeling her grind on my hand with desperation.

“Oh my God, Jason,” she groans against my mouth, biting my tongue and holding it there as I growl in response.

Using my fingers, I spread her lips apart, my thumb finding its way to her clit: she jerks slightly at the contact, and as I steadily increase pressure she rolls her body against mine.

“Please….please, I want you so badly,” she begs, trying to squeeze her thighs together with need, only to be stopped by my own leg keeping hers apart.

“Goddamn, you’re so sexy when you beg,” I whisper, bringing my hand up from her pussy and showing her my glistening fingers.

“I want you to taste yourself,” I say as I use my other hand to grasp the back of her neck, sliding my wet fingers over her lips into her mouth and smiling devilishly as she begins to suck.

She rolls her tongue around my fingers, eyes closed and body fighting to be freed from its restraint. As she continues to work her mouth, I move my hand from the back of her neck to the neckline of her shirt, pulling it down to expose her breasts. She arches towards me, offering herself to me, and I growl as I devour her with my eyes.

“Jesus, you’re beautiful,” I groan as the suction in her mouth increases. Her nipples brush against my suit, the friction eliciting a hum deep in her throat that vibrates through my fingers. My cock jumps at her response, and as much as I want to free myself and fuck her senseless, I resist. I’m not done playing, exploring, finding all the ways I can make her crave me.

I slide my fingers from her mouth, moving my wet hand back down to her pussy and spreading her lips apart once more. Eve bucks her hips towards me, desperate to be filled, to be fucked, to be ravaged into oblivion. I am more than happy to oblige.

But not quite yet.

“You’re greedy, Eve,” I say as I keep her lips spread apart, moving my middle finger towards her entrance and tracing circles around it lightly. “Do you really think I’m just going to go straight for the kill?”

She inhales sharply, moving her hips in hopes of getting my finger to slide in, but I refuse her. Keeping her on the precipice, making her crave my touch, desperate to feel my fingers fill her…this is how I want her.

“Jason, please, PLEEEASE…”

Her voice gets loud as I bring my hand from her breast and cover her mouth, leaning in to touch my forehead to hers as I continue to tease her pussy.

“No, Princess,” I whisper against my hand as her eyes begin to moisten with frustration. “No, I don’t think so. Not quite yet…”

I lock eyes with her, the look of need on her face slowly shifting as her brows twist in angst and her eyes alight with what could only be described as a tornado of lust and fury. She yells against my hand.

“Jason, either fuck me or let me go, RIGHT NOW!”

I laugh, removing my hand from her mouth and watching her eyes narrow dangerously as she tries to keep herself from moaning. I dare to let the tip of my finger circle her before slipping inside. She clenches fiercely against me, and I pull my finger back, depriving her of what she so badly craves.

“No, NO!”

She grunts in frustration, trying so hard to keep her composure as she rolls her body against mine, pressing her breasts into me and looking up at my face, pleading with everything she has.

“Eve, you aren’t in control here. I told you, I take what I want. And what I want is to make you beg. Make you hungry. Make you desperate.”

I kiss her, feeling her exhale against my mouth as I keep her pussy spread and slide my middle finger back inside her, easing it halfway and slowly curling it towards me. She pulses on my hand, and as she bites my lip it takes every ounce of restraint in my body to not lose control and finger her to pieces.

Not yet, Jason. Not fucking yet.

“I want to make you moan.” I say as I hold her gaze, sliding my ring finger over and slowly easing it inside her, my two fingers now pressing against her walls as I feel her hips move to match my rhythm. Mouths still latched together, I keep with the come hither motions until I feel her breathing turn to short, quick pants against my lips.

My free hand reaches down and slides the length of her thigh, grasping the back of her knee and hooking her leg over my arm. Raising her leg until her knee is nearly to her chest, she balances on the other foot: her pussy is fully exposed, and in seconds I can feel my hand become slick with her arousal.

“I want to make you scream.”

Without warning, I jam my fingers as far inside of her as I can, and she cries out in surprise. I withdraw to the tips, and slam them back inside her, my thumb extending to press against her clit with every thrust.

Eve screams against my mouth, a sound that reverberates through the bathroom with crazed intensity.

Fuck, I know someone outside had to have heard that shit.

Keeping her leg hooked in the crook of my elbow, I bring my hand to her mouth, raising her leg even higher and forcing her on her toes.

The creak of the bathroom door has us both freeze in place for a brief moment, my fingers still inside her as her eyes widen at me in a desperate plea to release her.

I duck my head down so I’m not seen over the stall, smiling at Eve and shaking my head slowly: instead I curl my fingers towards her g-spot, pressing against the ribbed flesh with malicious, selfish intent.

Eve squirms, trying her best to stay still and quiet as I continue to finger her slowly. The sound of a purse unzipping and items clacking on the counter just feet away from us means nothing…not when I have this fox in front of me, hot and needy and at my mercy.

I thumb her clit and work it in slow circles in time with my fingers, and Eve lets out a small, quiet moan against my hand. The rustling sounds stop, but I don’t: increasing the intensity of my motions, I keep my eyes on Eve, watching as her blinking slows and her eyes fight to keep from rolling back. I can feel her pussy clenching on my two fingers, and as I slowly add a third, she groans and sinks onto me, riding my fist. She parts her mouth under my hand, her tongue grazing my fingers hungrily.

The rustling outside resumes, quicker this time, and I hear scurrying as the bathroom door opens and our surprise guest exits in a hurry.

“You aren’t very good at being quiet were you?” I ask with a sneer as I remove my hand from her mouth.

“Jason…you asshole…” she pants between breaths as she continues to roll her hips on my hand. “I can’t….it feels…feels…”

“Feels, what, Eve? Feels good?”

I move closer to her body until I’m fully pinning her against the door, her leg still raised and pushed against the side of her chest as I slide my fingers out of her, circle her entrance and slam then back inside her. She screams, and this time we don’t care who hears us.

I continue my assault, withdrawing to the tips of my fingers and thrusting all three back deep inside her warm, wet hole. Every time I sink into her, she rewards me with a long, raspy moan, and every time I pull out she clenches onto me desperately as if she doesn’t want to let me go.

Her head tosses frantically–my fingers relentless– until her moans melt into one loud cry. Her walls tighten around me as I continue to fuck her mercilessly with my hand: I can feel her climax building, feel the trembling of her body as her head thrashes against the door.

“Jason I’m gonna come, I’m…gonna…” she yells, and I lean in until my mouth is next to her ear.

“Then be a good girl and come for me, Eve…come for me…”

Her cry becomes feral as I feel pressure build against my fingers and a gush of wetness drenches my forearm. Slowly releasing her leg, I continue with a rhythmic, steady motion as she rides the waves of her orgasm to completion.

After a moment her body stills, and I gently slide my fingers from inside her, feeling her relax and slump against me as she rests her head on my shoulder.

I place my free hand gingerly on the back of her head, holding her against me gently as I reach up with the other and release her hands from above her head. Wrists still bound, her arms fall around my neck in an embrace, clinging to me as she steadies herself.

We stand there for a moment, Eve catching her breath and me relishing in the rise and fall of her chest against mine, our breathing syncing as we both hold each other through oblivion.

After a minute, Eve lifts her head from my shoulder, her tousled hair sticking to the sides of her face endearingly, reminding me of the first day we met. With a glazed look of satisfaction in her eyes, she offers me a small smile.

“Hey, Jason?”

“Yes, Princess?”

“...Payback’s a bitch.”