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I can't help it. I smile, the corners of my eyes stinging just a bit as my emotions battle.
"There," he says, stroking his fingers against my cheeks. "That's better. I knew that would make you smile. You want me to corrupt you." He smiles for a moment, but then his face becomes serious again and he pulls me closer. "All you have to do is accept the fact that you can expect nothing from me but great sex when the opportunity arises and we'll be fine. But don't expect anything more from me." He runs a finger over my bottom lip. "Because I can't give it."
"What if I fall in love with you?"
He pulls me against him. "Then fall in love with me. I'm not going to say no. But don't expect anything in return."
"So, it's like this – I try to help you, do work for you, have sex with you whenever you feel like it, possibly fall in love with you, and in return I have sex whenever you feel like it."
He nods. "I'll try to make it worthwhile." He brushes my hair from my face.
I shut his words out of my mind. I refuse to respond.
"You went to South Carolina?"
"Yes. I found someone. I turned up some interesting information."
"What?" I say, interested in spite of myself. "Tell me."
"Eve," he says and pulls me closer. "It's late. I've been gone more than a week. I was mostly good the whole time. I think we can talk about this later."
I stiffen. "Mostly good?"
"Well," he says, tilting his head to the side. "There was this woman, but she was necessary. Part of the plot, so to speak."
"You were with someone else while you were away?"
"Yeah," he says, swirling his hand. "It was part of the deal. You know, I was with this guy who had some information he didn't even know he had, he was on a tear, he and I became fast buddies. And there were girls. It was unavoidable, not that I mind that kind of work."
I close my eyes, the thought of him with another woman both arousing me and making me feel as if he's just stabbed me in the heart.
"Eve, I'm not Michel."
"Yeah, I know. You already told me that."
"You can't be upset."
I shake my head.
"How would you feel if I told you that I'd slept with a man while you were away?"
"With who? Vasily?" He smiles.
"No, I don't know - in the broom closet with that new janitor at the SCU."
"It wouldn't happen."
"And it won't tonight either." With that, I extract myself from his lap and stand, then make a beeline for the bathroom.
"Eve, come back."
I close the bathroom door, go to the window and sit on the ledge, my knees tucked under my chin. He's a heartless bastard. He didn't have to admit he'd slept with someone else while he was away. He did it either because he’s totally clueless, or because hewantsme to know. He wants to elicit some kind of response.
He follows me, as I knew he would, but I had to leave - I had to get away from him. It's futile, for there's nowhere to go, no place to hide. I just had to act. The warm buzz from the wine is now gone and all I feel is cold. No tears – there will be none. Just cold.
He comes into the bathroom and removes his suit jacket, and then comes to the window and stands beside me.
"Eve, I don't feel like any drama tonight. You're going to have sex with me and I'm going to enjoy it. So are you. You want it, and you need it. So come."
