Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 103661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Call a car. Wait on the curb outside my building.
She rolls her eyes as a limo arrives. "The subway really is fine."
"Let someone take care of you for once."
Her eyes stay on mine for a moment. She studies my expression, trying to find my intent.
Is it obvious I'm saying that to get my way?
Yes, it's true. She needs to let someone else take care of her. She needs to learn to let her guard down. To let someone else shoulder that burden.
But where do I get off telling her that?
Trust isn't my strong suit.
I pull her into a slow kiss.
She's responsive. Eager. Hungry.
She groans as I slip my tongue into her mouth. Tugs at my suit as I claim her.
Sighs as I pull back.
She wants more.
But she isn't ready for it yet.
"Good night, Eve." I help her into the limo.
She looks up at me, that same curiosity in her grey-green eyes. Because she doesn't trust me? Or because she wants every thought in my head? "Good night, Ian."
I press the limo door closed. Issue instructions to the driver. Watch as the car pulls away.
It disappears around the corner.
My phone buzzes with an alert from the company. Fifteen minutes until she's home. Fifteen minutes until she's safe.
I walk to my flat. It's less than a dozen blocks and it's a nice night. Warm with a soft breeze. Clear. As clear as it gets in New York City.
No stars in the sky. There are never stars in the sky.
Today, I miss them. I want to take Eve to a cozy cabin in the mountains. Or a secluded beach miles from civilization. I want to hold her tightly as I watch the stars brighten the sky.
It's been so long since I've seen the sky like that. Since I've felt the thrill and possibility. The sense of wonder the universe has to offer.
Such a big, beautiful place. So much bigger than any of us.
Fuck, I'm already obsessed with her.
Now this.
I undress. Shower. Pour a glass of water. Check my phone. Then computer.
Work email. Private email. RSS feed.
Her site.
It's a reflex.
One that…
Fuck, I don't know. This is a public site. She puts everything here, knowing anyone can find it.
When I first stumbled on her site, I thought Eve was a pen name. A play on the title. Original Sin, Eve, the tree of knowledge.
I didn't think her name was actually Eve.
But it is.
And it's perfect.
If anyone would take fruit from the tree of knowledge, it's her.
This is a public site. Too public.
Even so…
A new entry draws my eyes.
A few minutes old. She just wrote it.
The Handmaid's Tale isn't a sexy book. But it's sexier than you'd think. How else can Margaret Atwood draw a clear line between state-sanctioned rape and a consensual affair?
Of course, she's dealing with her thoughts via her favorite book.
What is she saying? What is she thinking?
I need to know.
I need everything in her head and her heart. Every one of her secrets.
No walls. No hiding. No affair with her singing instructor.
Eve is offering these thoughts to anyone who reads.
But now that we've kissed, now that I've made her come—
It's different.
Wrong.
I can't keep reading her journal. No matter how public it is.
I know that. I know I can't cross this line.
But my body doesn't care. My heart doesn't care.
Everything inside me wants to read her words.
It's agony resisting.
Fuck.
I'm not going to make it out of this unscathed.
It's impossible.
I put the computer to sleep. Look for a distraction. Fail to think of anything but her.
Okay. I'm obsessed.
I might as well find a way to tease her.
That's just the thing.
I text Shepard to arrange everything. Then I set up the delivery. Early tomorrow morning. Early enough to wake her. But just barely.
Nine seems fair.
I'm sending tea.
Sure, it's all so I can savor the mental image of Eve naked, tangled in her sheets, rising to the sound of my delivery.
I check the size on her knickers. Then I spend an hour picking out the perfect extra for my delivery.
Plus a few more things.
Enough to make her jaw drop.
Chapter Twenty
Eve
"Wow." Addie's voice carries into my room. "That's… wow."
"Ms. Miller, was it?" A man with a British accent asks. Not Ian. Ian's voice is deeper. It has this edge to it, even when he's asking for a drink or mentioning the weather. Like he's a few seconds away from ordering me to take off my dress.
"No one calls me Ms. Miller," she says. "I kind of like it."
"Do you prefer Miss? Or perhaps Adelaide?"
"Usually Addie. But I kind of like Ms. Miller."
"Of course, Ms. Miller. I believe this gift is intended for the other Ms. Miller."
"Oh." I can hear her blush. "I'm not supposed to peek?"
"No. But seeing as you already have…"
She gasps. "Oh my God. That's… expensive. And pretty. How did you know Eve's size?"
"I know everything, Ms. Miller. Please, take a moment. Read your invitation. Can I get you anything while you wait for the other Ms. Miller?"