I realize that this chapter has been a long time in the making and for that I apologize. I was dealing with chronic illness and several moves and job changes. For those of you who claim that Eve is very naive, this story is about going from what is widely considered "normal" to what is actual. Some people aren't taught from day one, the things you or I may know about sex. Even the lessons you know may have only come after years of experimentation and self-discovery. Her brand of naivety is actually fairly common, especially to girls who are virgins when they marry. Not everyone has or entertains his or her natural sexual curiosities, so be charitable and thoughtful before criticizing my choice of her actions. I meant for this to be a story about metamorphosis and I believe, as a whole, it is but you readers might have to be patient with the story and with Eve as a character. If you aren't familiar with this story, go back and read the preceding chapters to get used to the characters and situations - they are all quite sexy. And as always, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoy!
----------------------------------------
"That's great news!" Tessa said over her yogurt at lunch.
"I guess so." I shifted in my chair. "I'm actually still a little sore; not sure why." My knees knocked together under the blue frills of my skirt.
"Well, it had been a while, right?" Tessa said, scraping the bottom of her plastic Yoplait container.
"Yeah." My chicken and roasted red-pepper sandwich was still in its wrapper on my desk.
"So I've been giving it a little thought. I wonder if you should ask your sex shrink how often men lie about what they want in the bedroom," Tessa said, twirling her plastic spoon in her cup.
"That's a good question to ask," I said, retrieving my planner and flipping to a blank note page. I grabbed a pen to take down the question.
"How was your first visit? Did the treatment help?" she asked, wiping a glob of yogurt from the corner of her mouth.
"Yeah, it helped. He was very thorough," I said, knocking my knees again.
"Awesome! So make another appointment. If he's good at what he does, he'll be able to answer questions as they come up."
I was lost in my own world, day-dreaming, mentally calling up details to ask the doctor about. Segments of Tessa's sentences floated in my left ear and out the right. Until finally she flicked my shoulder.
"Ouch! What?" I said, rubbing my shoulder like an injured child.
"Aren't you listening?"
"A little... I'm sorry. I'm just preoccupied."
"Well, you missed my news while you were out in space."
"Sorry."
"I was saying... I'm pregnant."
The resulting celebration was sprinkled with hugs and exaltation.
"I'm due in December, around Christmas. We're hoping for a boy but my mom thinks it will be a girl." Her face was alight with smiles and every pore and dimple was full of optimism and joy. We both tried our best to eat our lunches, discussing baby showers, schedules and other fun mommy stuff. But as soon as Tessa finished her yogurt, she left for a meeting and I found myself alone in a distressingly quiet cubicle.
I fell back into the old pattern, asking myself why things had to be the way they were. Why couldn't life be simple and people act the way you expected them to? But, I had to remind myself, there was no point in speculating, only to handle this situation as best as possible. I felt flooded with helplessness all of a sudden. It was lucky all of my work was done for the day, because I couldn't concentrate. Coffee would do the trick, it would wake me up and maybe give me more ideas for questions to ask the doctor.
With my planner in tow, I took the elevator to the cafeteria and got my favorite iced coffee. When I turned away from the counter, my eyes met with none other than Jason Krawley's. He'd been watching me buy my coffee, no doubt. Instead of walking directly away or ignoring him, a quick glance at my planner gave me an idea. Instead of leaving, I decided I could use his opinion. But how to convince him to talk to me? 'Be sexy... well... as sexy as you know how to be,' I thought. I tossed my hair over my shoulder, walked a tick slower than usual, jutting my hips out with each stride until I came to his table. I'd worn a slightly sexy outfit. A tight black, skirt that came down to my mid-thigh and a somewhat revealing v-neck blouse under a well-cut blazer. I set my book on the table along with my latte, Jason, obviously taken aback, sat straight up. His eyes wide, his mouth clamped shut, his fingers squeezing his coffee cup.
I bent over, my face coming dangerously close to his. I'm sure he could smell my perfume and possibly see down my shirt despite the coat.
"Jason, would you mind if I asked you a few questions?" I smiled and tried to look smoldering - unsure of whether it was working or not.
"Uh," his mouth hung open in silence for a minute then he muttered, "Okay..."
"Good." I sat down quickly and threw open my date book to a note page.
"This is unexpected..." he said slowly. "I figured after... the elevator you'd never speak to me again." He took a sip of his coffee, trying, I assumed, to steady himself. "It's been two weeks and every time I've said hello, I got the cold shoulder." His words held a hint of indignation.
"What do you expect? You basically assaulted me in the elevator." I quirked an eyebrow at him. He winced a little then sipped his coffee.
"Good point."
"Now, questions," I said matter-of-factly. "What do you like in the bedroom?" The ease with which the words came out of my mouth surprised even me. His eyes were wide and I'm sure his mouth would never shut again.
"Um, what?" He might not budge if I didn't give him a little something to motivate him...
I sipped my latte, set my pen down and began unbuttoning my blazer. Slowly, one button at a time. He noticed my hands. Then he noticed I wore a push-up bra.
"What do you mean specifically?" he asked, swallowing hard.
"What do you like in a woman you intend to sleep with?" I rephrased.
"One who has dark hair, dark eyes, soft skin, is a great kisser, is willing to please as well as willing to be pleased."
"Hold on I can't write that fast. '... soft... skin.'" I stopped and looked up. He was grinning.
"Are you describing me? Cause that's not funny." I shook my head.
He leaned over the table. "Isn't that what you want to hear?"
"No. I want to know the truth. I've had it with being lied to." I tossed my pen at the table and it skid before flipping against his chest. I dropped my back against the chair's back, crossing my hands over my chest. "Fuck, I'm so tired of being lied to."
"Hey, calm down. Fine. Serious this time. What I like in a woman?" He picked up my pen and offered it back to me. I frowned and rubbed my forehead. "What I like in a woman:" he began, sliding my date book towards him. He began to write and after punctuating a few lines, he slid the notebook to me. "Read."
"'Dark hair, dark eyes, soft skin, great kisser, is willing to please as well as willing to be pleased. Confidence, power, intelligence. Things I avoid: Flaky, ridiculous, super... supercilious...' What the hell does supercilious mean?" I looked up. He was grinning again.
"Disdainful. I don't like hateful women," he said.
"You could have just said hateful," I said drawing a width-wise line under his list.
