Rising doubts

Adam's POV

Water cascaded down my back, cold as ever. I ran my hands through my hair, spreading the shampoo through. It had been a long day. A damned long day. I had hightailed my ass out of Paris in a hurry to see my mother, terrified to the bone that her condition had gotten crippling worse.

I was worried for nothing.

The woman was all concerned about me getting married. Married! I chuckled, scrubbing through my scalp. My eyes closed as a memory of a certain blue-eyed woman tugging at my hair flashed through my head.

Eve.

My jaw clenched and my breathing became labored.

Fuck.

She wasn't even here. Just the memory of her, a wisp, a scent, anything was enough to make me feel like some  horny teenager again.

With a growl, I scrubbed harder, trying to focus on my mother's request instead. Marriage. That straight-up killed my Boner. Why the hell was she yammering about me getting married?

When she had said that, I'd simply laughed, told her it wouldn't happen, and she would have a rather better chance of convincing Anabelle than convincing me to get married.

Of course, she had snickered as if I was merely fooling around and didn't know what I was saying. But I damn well knew.

I wasn't the type to get married. I didn't want to get shackled down to some woman constantly nagging me or trying to get me to do things by shedding a few shitty tears here and there. Women had the power to manipulate, and for those who could use it, it was a rather devastating power.

A power I would make sure never had its hold on me.

Eve flashed through my head again, and I groaned. This was exactly why I needed to stop this madness about Eve. She was gone. I had left her in Paris. Hell, if we wanted to be certain about the sequence of things, she left me in Paris.

As if she were hiding something. Or running. Ah yes. She had to be running. Who or what exactly was she running from? It couldn't be the police. No, she was too innocent for that. That naivety on her face, in her eyes, in her actions, it couldn't be fake... Could it?

I remembered the way her eyes widened when I did something out of the blue. The way her face would turn red, scandalized by my actions. Like when I had checked if she had panties on? That messed with my head.

I closed my eyes, and I was back in France again, standing on the sidewalk with her in my arms. I could feel her wetness coat my fingers again, feel her drip all over them, moaning, gasping as I played with her pussy. Those sounds slipped out of her lips. Her breath hitched every time I took a swipe over her core.

She couldn't have faked them. She couldn't have.

"Fuck," I hissed, opening my eyes to see my cock jute out, hard as a  rock.

This was getting out of hand. I needed her. I had to see her again. She definitely wasn't French. There was nothing French about her so it was safe to assume she had come to Paris for a vacation or something. Perhaps if I could get a private detective, he could help me find her-

No! My mind roared and I groaned, placing my head directly under the shower to rinse off the soap. What the hell was I thinking?! Private detective. Fuck, this obsession had to stop. It had to end or I would lose my marbles for a woman.

And I had sworn that would never happen again!

But it was Eve, I countered, dragging a hand down my face in frustration. It was my Eve. I wanted her. I wanted her with a hunger I hadn't known I possessed.

I glanced at my raging cock. It throbbed and pulsed hard as hell, begging to be touched and hell I wanted to give in to the burning need and jerk off like a damned idiot. I was a man of control.

Gritting my teeth, I rinsed off my body and stepped out of the bathroom before I did something like wank off to a woman I had spent just one night with!

Perhaps it was because she was too recent. I thought as I grabbed a towel and stepped out of the bathroom.  No one had my blood pumping the way she did. No one else lived rent-free in my head, toying with my subconscious, making me drunk with my obsession with her. It was just her.

I walked towards the mirror, watching my hair fall in ringlets, shimmering in the light.

Golden, she called me.

If I had to guess why, I would say it was the hair. One of the things I had inherited from the bastard that fathered me. My teeth grinded at the thought. Like hell I wanted to look like him! The hair, the eyes, it was a miracle my mother didn't break down every time she looked at me. I must remind her so much of everything she wanted to forget. Everything she hated.

My phone pinged with a message, drawing me away from the mirror. I stalked towards the bed and picked it up. It was a message from my secretary trying to confirm a meeting for tomorrow. I was barely back in town and work had piled up like shit already.

I supposed that was a good thing. If I had my head buried in work, I ought to forget about Eve in no time.

Liar. A small voice teased me.

Sighing deeply, I swiped the message aside and frowned when another notification popped up. This time, from my personal line. One I never shared with just anybody.

Ten missed calls.

Eve, I thought, my heart slamming wildly against my ribcage.

I tapped quickly on the notification to see who called and the excitement drained the fuck right out of my body when I saw the number.

Unknown. It wasn't Eve. I had saved her number when she called me that night. Unless she was trying to reach me with another number.

Feeling excited again, I dialed the number without thinking. I just needed to confirm who it was. Needed to confirm if it was Eve. And then what? What would I do if it was her? Go back to Paris to meet her?

Fuck I was doomed.

The call went through, but the voice I heard was not the sweet sonorous voice of Eve.

"Hello, you bastard! But time you called!"

My forehead crinkled in a frown and I glanced at the phone in surprise.

"Who is this?"

"I'll be asking the questions here!" The man on the other end yelled. "What the hell did you think you were doing giving your number to my wife?!"

His wife?!

Was this a prank call? It had better not be because I was going to hunt his ass down and have him sued for slander. No one accused me and got away with it.

"That had better be the last time you ever go near my wife! If I see you or traces of your damned fancy black card near my woman, I'll kill you!"

Yeah, have fun doing that, I thought spitefully and ended the call. I didn't have time for shenanigans. He was probably stoned as hell in a club or something and had drunk-dialed my number.

I tossed the phone aside and made to go to the closet when a thought stopped me in my tracks.

Fancy black card? Was the drunk as fuck man referring to my personal card? The only person I had given my card to was Eve, so why would he… Oh fuck!

My eyes widened as I glossed over everything that had happened in France in my mind. It all made  sense now. Everything made sense now.

Eve ran out on me the night we had first met, only to call a few days after. The next morning, she was gone again. I had known she was hiding something, what I hadn't thought was she was hiding a husband. A  husband!

She had cheated on her husband... With me. With me! Fuck! I wasn't much different from my old man that way, was I? He had cheated on my mother, countless times, with poor as hell women who had nothing else to offer than their pussy.

Those women made my mother's life miserable. They hurt her constantly, putting her through so much pain.

And I had just done the same to another man.

I looked up at the mirror and saw a reflection of me standing stark naked with a white towel around my neck and gray eyes staring back at me in horror.

Perhaps I was just like my father after all. His blood coursed through my veins. The same bitter, angry, and vile Stone blood.

"No!" I bellowed at the reflection. "I am not like that bastard. I will never be like that bastard. Eve," I thought frantically, tearing my face from the mirror and lunged for my phone. "Eve had some serious explanation to do!"

Dialing her number, I held my breath as I waited for it to ring. Eve was too innocent to do that.

"This number," The automated customer's service voice reached my ears, and my shoulders fell. "is out of service."

Well... Shit!

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