Eva 2

This is a

simple

story that I'd submitted under another name and another title, so if it's familiar, you know why.

I was initially going to publish this as a lesbian novella, but decided against it. So… you guys get to read this for free (: Don't forget to vote and comment!

~L.

*

Ohh fuck, that hurt.

I stared into the enraged blue eyes of my lover, glancing absently at the perfectly manicured hand that was still partially raised in the air. My left cheek was sore from the spot where she hit me and I wondered if it would leave a bruise.

Monica's chest was heaving, the indecently large mass of her breasts pushing against the low neckline, pink dress. She looked like the perfect Miss Barbie; it was just too bad that I'd cheated on her.

"Thanks for that, Monica. I'd appreciate it if you'd leave now," I said, lifting a hand to my stinging cheek.

"Leave? You want me to leave?" she sputtered, her disbelieving eyes locking with mine.

'She had probably expected an apology,' I thought inwardly with a sneer.

"Yeah. Tell Marie to buzz me when the five o'clock is in, would you?" I said, turning away to light a cigarette, leaning against the railing of the twenty-fifth story's balcony.

A sudden, surprisingly strong hand clamped on my shoulder and pushed me against the railing, holding me in place. The cigarette dangled precariously from between my fingers. Monica pushed against me, making me back up against the black steel that dug into my ass.

"Why'd you do it?" she hissed. Her eyes had become red and mascara trailed black goop down her cheek. "Why, Jessie?"

I blew a puff of smoke into her face. "Payback's a bitch, honey."

I think she slapped me again, but I couldn't feel it. My cheek had gone numb. Through a haze of cigarette smoke, I saw a satin encased ass making its way into the office and disappear from sight. A distant click of the sliding door confirmed that she was gone.

Finally.

Monica had been a good lover and all, but under all that make-up, she was just as dumb-ass stupid as they came. I never liked her, but she'd made a good bedmate and I'd dumped her when she'd worn on me. She wasn't any different from the rest of the women I'd dated.

I flicked the remains of the cig over the side of the building and made my way into the office. A quick glimpse in the mirror told me that Monica hadn't done any real damage to my cheek -- there wasn't a handprint or anything -- just a little redness was all. I rubbed at the spot soothingly before taking a seat behind the mahogany desk. A file was already open and the numbers and figures were a welcome distraction from my newly lover-less state.

It was probably about ten minutes later when there was a buzz at the door. I growled, for I hated being distracted when I was in the middle of calculating something or the other.

"What?" I snapped into the speaker that connected me to the person who was on the other side of the door. I knew it wasn't a client or Marie would have buzzed me first. It was probably one of those pesky attachment trainees, sent by the execs to get me to sign stuff.

"Uh, Miss Carter? I have some files for you," came the feminine voice.

Without replying, I buzzed her in, returning my attention to the figures at hand.

In the back of my mind, I knew that someone was flitting about the office, placing files in the 'to be signed' folder and withdrawing the ones in the 'signed' folder. The girl made little noise, but it was still a distraction and I looked up.

'She's unbelievably young,' was the first thing that came to my mind.

Coffee-coloured skin and dark hair accentuated with blonde highlights. Her back was to me and that was all I could see. I watched her as she worked, taking in the simple black hipster slacks and white office blouse. Normally, one wouldn't be able to tell that she was young from what she was wearing, but I knew better.

She turned from the file cabinet and caught my eye. I saw her eyes widen a little when she found me watching her.

"Uh, I'm sorry for disturbing. I was trying to make as little noise as possible," she stuttered and I found her child-like fear quite amusing. A small smile tugged at my lips.

"Nah, that's all right. You new here?"

"Yes. I'm here for the attachment program with St. Michael's College."

Ahh, yes. College girl. Yummy.

"What's your name?"

I noticed that her blouse was unbuttoned to reveal a bit of cleavage. Yes, definitely sexy, I thought. A small stud glinted on her nose, making her look almost exotic. I wondered if she had other delicious piercings.

"Eva, Miss Carter. Eva Smith-Johnson." She smiled, clutching the small stack of files to her chest.

"Well, Eva. It's nice to have met you. How long is your attachment?"

"Two months, Miss."

"Very good." I tapped the heavy ballpoint pen on my desk, a signal that I wanted to resume my work. She understood.

I watched her with interest as she made her away across the plush carpet and left the room.

Hmmm.

Eva.

This should be interesting.

*

I didn't see her throughout the week.

Planning for the company party kept me busy and I had a dozen more files to look through before the weekend. I'd been driven crazy throughout the week with so many things to see to. Just the thought of the things left undone was enough to make me tear out what was left of my short-cropped blonde hair. I'd yet to order the alcohol, deejay (yes, one of the old, boring ones) and get myself a suit. By Thursday, I knew I needed to visit the shopping district or else I'd just have to wear one of my old suits to the party -- a strict no-no for me.

It was Thursday night, cold and eerily quiet as I left the office. Marie, my PA, had checked out earlier and so had almost everyone else. I said a quick good-bye to Quinn, a workaholic, before stepping onto the elevator and punching in the code to the parking lot.

The first thing I heard when I stepped out of the elevator made me pause.

"Work, you stupid bitch, work! Fuck!" The rowdy cussing was followed by sounds of thumps and thwacks on metal.

I followed the blasphemies to the corner of the parking lot that was reserved for part-time workers.

Eva sat in a beat-up old Mustang, her head slightly beaded with sweat. She was wearing a buttercup-yellow dress that fit snugly around her almost-plump figure. Her hands tightly clutched the steering wheel, and as I watched, she leaned over and laid her head against the metal.

"Car trouble?" I called out, sauntering toward the flushed girl. Eva turned to look at me with her slightly surprised dark eyes, the nose-ring glinting beautifully in the dim light of the parking lot.

"I-uh-well, yes, Miss Carter." She got out of the car so that she stood in front of me, out of respect, I knew. This new position showed me just how short she was. Why, the top of her head didn't even reach my chin!

"Where do you live? I can give you a lift home." It was a generous offer on my part; I never usually offered to drive trainees home. But this one was different. She probably had C-cup boobs. Wouldn't you offer a ride, too?

"Maine Street. The one nearing Kensington Lane. But you don't have to, really. I can take the bus."

I was having none of that.

"It's eight at night, Eva. I'm not taking chances with you and that dress. Get your stuff. My Rover's over there." I signaled to the middle of the parking lot.

"Well, if you insist." She looked doubtful, but I'd already started walking. I heard her hastily grab her stuff and follow me. The sound of her heeled footsteps rang sharply in the empty space.

I pulled out of the building a minute later with a royal screech of tires, heading towards Maine Street. The girl sat silently beside me, her hands flitting nervously on her lap.

"So, what're you doing in St Mike's?" I asked, just to fill in the semi-awkward silence.

"Business Ad, second year. I can't wait to graduate," she said.

I snorted, reaching for the cigarettes that I usually store in the small compartment below the stereo.

"Can't wait to start work, can you? I remember being like that once. Funny how thoughts change."

"Philosophies of a thirty-year-old?" she questioned, and I shot her a look. So she's been asking about me. Interesting.

"Nah. Just some things you learn in life. Want one?" I passed the pack of cigarettes to her but she declined. I lowered the window and lighted a stick. Ahh, I thought on the first drag, the pleasures one can obtain from chemicals rolled in paper.

"What were you doing in the office so late?" I asked when we stopped at a red light.

"Oh, that. I had some extra filing to do and I didn't want to come in early tomorrow, so I thought I'd finish it off today."

"Is the work-load OK for you guys? Nothing too heavy?"

"Nope. Truth to tell, I'm enjoying every minute of it. I've always wanted to work at VioletCo. It's so big and important that it makes me feel important, too."

I glanced over at Eva. Our eyes locked for a second; moss green to sinful black. In that one look, I could see all her hopes and dreams and a future that she had so readily planned out. It was just too bad that life had a way of fucking things up.

"It's just around the corner. Take a left here."

I pulled up in front of a row of flats, nothing too shabby but not too showy either. The low-rise houses were painted a brick-red and many of them had lights glowing from the inside.

"This is it. Thank you for the ride, Miss Carter," she said with a smile, slipping out of the car with the grace of a cat.

"Hey, wait," I called. She paused and turned back. "Are you coming for the party this Saturday? You're supposed to have gotten an invitation."

"Oh, yes. I am. All the trainees got one." She smiled.

"Great. See you then." I watched as she walked toward the row of flats. Her yellow dress caught the lamp light, making her look like toffee covered in cream custard, just ready to be eaten. I shook my head at the ridiculous image and raised my hand in lieu of a wave when she looked back at me.

I didn't leave until I was sure she had gotten into the lift.

*

She intrigued me.

Why, I didn't know. But she kept intruding into my thoughts at the most inappropriate times. Perhaps it was because of her kick-ass assets or sexy taste in clothes. Or maybe it was the innocent light in her eyes. Hell if I knew.

I had a dream about her the night that I'd dropped her off. A dream about her in a tub filled with bubbles. I could smell vanilla essence in the air and she crooked a finger at me, inviting me into her bower of warmth. In the dream, I'd been powerless to disobey her, moving closer and closer to her but never really reaching her. I remembered praying for the frothy bubbles to dissolve so that I'd have a glimpse of her, but it was in vain. I'd woken up feeling as horny and turned on as a teenager, a feeling I hadn't felt in years. Instinctively, I reached across the bed for the vibrator I kept charged in the bedside drawer, thinking to finish myself off. But I didn't have to.

I came, a second later, when my thighs clamped shut against each other, making my clit rub against my swollen lips. It was a quick orgasm, fast and over in a minute -- which was a good thing, for it was already nine in the morning.

I'd slept through my alarm clock and I was late for work.

Damn.

*

Saturday night arrived, much to my relief. I was so tired of checking to see if the food was there, the guests were there, the deco was right, and nothing was out of place. Usually, it would be Marie who saw to the details, but she'd asked me if I could help her out and I couldn't say no. Why hadn't our ancestors told us that generosity could kill too?

I smiled and nodded and waved and smiled again throughout the night. Execs from Pioneer Industries, Terrance & Co. and JJ Inc. were there, mingling with the guests. There was usually tough competition between the four companies to score contracts but for formalities' sake, we had to send an invitation to them. We couldn't afford to ruin the relationship we had with the other companies.

Suddenly, I felt a hand tighten on my arm.

Oh, right. Amelia. I'd almost forgot.

Amelia was a friend, and a very good one at that. I'd called her last night and told her that I'd needed a date for the party. I'd gotten one in the next heartbeat.

She had her fingers around my arm, the paleness of her skin contrasting with the darkness of the Armani suit. It was a ready-made suit, which I didn't particularly like, but I didn't have any choice. It had been a take it or leave it situation at the boutique the other day.

Speaking of the other day…

My eyes stole across the crowd, looking for her.

I spotted her speaking to Quinn near the snack table. From a distance, I could see that the white dress she wore, fit her like a glove.

I wanted to get closer.

"Hey. I'll be right back," I told Amelia, disengaging her from my arm. I was by the snack table in no time.

*

"Hello."

Eva turned, the flute of champagne cradled in her hand. When she saw that it was me, she smiled and said that the party was lovely.

I really didn't care if the party was lovely.

She

was lovely and that was all that mattered to me right then. The beautiful angel-like white dress that she wore had a slit up the side and ended at the knee. The paleness of the material contrasted so nicely with her skin that my mouth watered. When she smiled, I noticed that there were two tiny dimples that marked the perfection of her skin.

"Miss Carter?"

"Oh yes. Did you say something?" I realized that I'd inadvertently tuned out of our conversation.

"Yes, I did." She looked at me peculiarly. "Your suit is lovely."

I ran a hand down the front of it, over my well-toned abs. "Thanks. I see you've met our Chief Exec," I said, indicating Quinn, from whom I'd snatched her.

"Yes, I have. Mr. Therman is quite a nice man. Quiet, though. I wonder how he got to Chief Exec." Then, suddenly, as though she'd realized what she'd said, a blush tinged her cheeks. I thought she looked adorable.

"That's all right. No need to be embarrassed. I've wondered about that from time to time.

.

"

Those two dimples appeared again and my insides twisted. God, she was so sexy. What the hell was she doing to me?

"Mind if we take a walk?" I proposed, pointing to the gardens just outside the function room.

"All right."

*

Being a butch has its ups and downs. I've had people give me 'the look' -- you know, the look which says 'you're gonna burn in hell, baby' -- and I've had pretty ladies asking for my number. But truthfully, it hadn't been my choice to make. I'd never grown up around people who swing that way, but it had been instinctive. The first girl I'd crushed on was back in Primary School. Her name was Anne and we'd been Science partners.

To suffice: It didn't turn out well.

But I'd had some good relationships from then until a week ago. Most of them had just been to fill the loveless void in my life; I never really took women seriously. They were just in bed one day and out the next. That's how life was.

But what was it about this girl that made me feel things that I hadn't felt since Anne? Yes, she was a sexy thang, but that hadn't been enough to affect me in the past twenty years. If beauty stirred me, I'd have married Monica long ago.

Perhaps it was the way she was chattering now, nervous to be out with me in the murky darkness. Her fingers were clasped over her none-too-flat tummy and she was just going on about people she'd met at the party inside. I couldn't blame her for being fidgety; I would be, too, if I were out for a moonlit stroll with my boss.

"You look lovely in that dress," I cut into what she was saying. She looked up at me, her eyes mirroring delight.

"Thank you. I didn't know what to wear, really, since I hadn't been to one of these before."

We ended up near a wooden bench in a corner. I bade her to sit.

"Would you mind if I asked you a personal question?"

"No, not at all," I replied and leaned back onto the bench, propping a foot on a knee. From my vantage point, I could see her smooth, curved shoulders topped with dark skin. I felt something tighten and coil in me as I looked at her, so beautiful in the semi-darkness.

"OK. Um, why are you what you are?" At my perplexed look, she quickly backtracked. "No, no, uh, I shouldn't have asked that. Sorry." She got up. "I'd better be going in."

"No, wait." I laid a hand on hers to stop her. If she felt the electricity sluice through her veins, she didn't show it. "What exactly do you want to know?"

She sat again, albeit on the edge of the seat, well prepared to flee again if she must.

"I just wondered why you are what you are. You know, a lesbian. I've a few friends like that and they all have a reason to be. I was just wondering what made you one." She wasn't looking at me anymore. In fact, her eyes were fixed on her lap.

I let out a laugh, not being able to remember a time when someone had put a question like that to me.

"Eva." She looked up momentarily and then looked away again.

"Yes, Miss Carter?"

I leaned forward, my face just inches away from hers.

"You don't have to have a reason to be gay."

She turned and her shy eyes held mine. They were a dark brown, I could see now, reminding me of a doe's. God, I really wanted her. The night was dark and there was no one around, so I decided to take the jump.

Her cheek was soft when I feathered a kiss over it. She didn't move nor did she ask me to stop. I took courage from that. Her eyes still held mine, as though she was mesmerized. And if she was feeling half the sensation that I was, she had a right to be.

She turned her head toward me, slowly, and I saw it as the invitation that it was. Her strawberry-pink lips yielded as I pressed a gentle kiss to them, giving her ample opportunity to squirm away if need be. She didn't. I took the kiss deeper, pulling her towards me with one hand, the other stroking her cheek. She was pliant beneath me, accepting, but I felt her heartbeat quicken beneath my fingers.

I slid my lips over hers again and again, simply enjoying the feel of her softness. Hesitantly, I felt her hands steal up my sides and touch my shoulders. A smile curved my lips and I playfully bit her bottom lip, watching her eyes widen in fascination. The innocence in them was my undoing and I tangled my fingers into her hair, darting my tongue to breach the barrier of her lips.

Our eyes closed in the same second.

Her fingers on my shoulders were digging into the suit now, her tongue shyly coming forward to meet mine. I groaned deep in my throat when she entangled her tongue with mine, gently swirling it. Her taste was intoxicating; I couldn't get enough of her. Whenever she whimpered against my mouth, a sliver of lust would shoot through me. My body virtually vibrated with the sexual tension that was between us. I couldn't remember the last time that a kiss felt so good.

Unbidden, my fingers slipped to the top of her dress, kneading the exposed flesh. She jerked, once, in surprise and shock, then she was still again, moving her lips under mine.

"Eva," I breathed when I pulled back, my fingers on the zipper of her dress. Her lips looked rather swollen from my kisses and she had a dazed look about her.

A tinkle of distant laughter cut into my sexual haze, making me realize where we were and what I was about to do. It wasn't disgust that tore through me, but it was close. I sighed, running the back of my knuckles over her cheek. I barely knew this girl and yet, she made me feel things I hadn't expected to feel in my life. If I didn't know better, I'd have called her a witch.