It took me almost a year to finish this story and I hope readers enjoy this next chapter!
Big thanks to EnglishMuffins who helped edit this story.
*****
It's 8:50 pm and Eve worriedly chews on her bottom lip, turning it a deep shade of pink as she aimlessly moves around her kitchen. All is quiet except the clock hanging above the microwave. It's a ticking time bomb. The sound is hammering her ears, pounding against her skull and inducing a new level of fear with each mechanical beat. If David is true to his word, he'll be knocking on her front door in less than ten minutes.
After his last visit, she was left in a blissful daze. It was amazing but she can't help but feel anxious.
Why does someone she despises so much have to be so wonderfully arousing?! He's as intoxicating as the finest wine and even more potent than a shot of fiery whiskey. He tantalizes her senses and makes her body burn with desire.
However, that doesn't excuse the fact that he's an arrogant, dominating prick. His unpredictable behaviors keep her teetering back and forth between pleasure and fear and she could plummet to her death at any moment. He's an honorable cop by day, merciless rapist by night and she's nothing but his prey, a prize to claim and mount on his wall, or rather on his dick.
But tonight, that's going to change. She will not be a victim and she is going to take back control by sending him away the moment he knocks on the door. Him and whatever fancy devices that he's threatened to bring along.
Eve hates any form of sex toys and props in the bedroom. The handcuffs alone caused her to have a nervous breakdown. The thought of being subjected to anything more than those restraints is beyond intimidating.
Granted, she's never played with sex toys before but the thought of experimenting with them, with David of all people, sends a sharp jolt of fear down her spine. The quicker she can turn him away, the better.
Knowing that her usual attire of revealing short skirts and plunging necklines always produce an impressive erection in his pants, she's decided to dress low-key.
She's wearing a spaghetti strap tank top, tight-fitting yoga pants and a pair of black flats. Her silky blonde hair is twisted up in a messy bun and she's wearing minimal makeup instead of dark tones of smokey eyeshadow and cherry red lipstick. She doesn't want to look like the wickedly hot minx that she knows he loves to dominate.
Eve shakes her arms, feeling her muscles loosen and then takes a deep, calming breath. But just when she becomes a figure of tranquility and peace, the front door swings open with such force that she's surprised it doesn't splinter in half.
Eve's terrified scream, immediately draws a deep laugh from David as he strolls into the house.
"What the fuck!? You can't just barge into my house!" Her nerves zigzag through her body and irritation immediately flares to the surface, pricking her skin. She's forced to cross her arms over her chest to keep from throwing a plate at him.
"Nice to see you too. Such a warm welcome." Unfazed by her outburst he gently closes the door behind him.
David tosses his jacket on the couch and casually runs his fingers through his short dark hair. It appears that he hasn't shaved since yesterday and the stubble along his jaw is annoying sexy. He looks relaxed, more so than ever before. Maybe it's because she hasn't done anything to piss him off, not yet anyway. He's wearing blue jeans and crisp white T-shirt which nicely forms to his torso. The sharp lines and coiled muscles of his lean, defined form makes him look like he's carved from smooth marble.
He's smiling but she isn't sure if he's genuinely happy to see her or if he's simply excited to rip off her clothes and molest her. Desire flashes in his emerald-gold eyes as they slowly roam up and down her lithe body, lingering on her perky breasts.
Her heartbeat quickens but she curses under her breath. Damn it. She isn't wearing a bra. Did it slip her mind or did she subconsciously want him to notice her chest? She knows how much he loves to play with them. Her pink nipples harden and prominently poke against the fabric of her tank top as he admires the soft slopes. His intense, lust-filled gaze almost causes a river of juices to soak her black panties and he's barely spoken to her. It's his eyes that are doing most of the talking.
Why does the devil-incarnate have to look so hot? From the dawn of time, perfect, innocent Eve was tempted with an apple and he looks just as delicious as that forbidden fruit. He's also just as dangerous.
As David slowly saunters towards her with assured grace and lethal intent, she notices a black duffle bag resting against his hip.
The sight of it snaps her back to reality.
Fuck! He's been here too long! He shouldn't even be in her house!
"I changed my mind. I want you to leave. Right now." Her brain is scrambled but she manages to speak firmly. She stares at the bag. It's probably filled with blood sucking spiders.
David arches his eyebrow but doesn't look surprised. He's ready for a challenge.
"I didn't give you a choice, Eve. You've never had a choice." Instead of retreating David continues to advance on her with measured steps. His presence fills up the kitchen like a dark rumbling storm and he takes a deep breath, inhaling her flowery scent.
Steely fingers of fear grip her throat and squeeze, choking the breath right out of her. All of her lusty thoughts of his stunning eyes and muscular body disappear.
As she quickly backs away from the sink, her elbow collides with a half empty bottle of vodka, knocking it on the ground. The glass shatters as it hits the tile floor and alcohol drenches the cabinets.
David shakes his head as the clear liquid swims around his black boots.
"You have such a drinking problem, Eve. Just look at this place." He remarks in disgust, scrutinizing every inch of the crime scene as only a cop would.
Eve follows his gaze, glaring back at her are two empty wine coolers on the dining room table, three empty beer bottles in the sink and two empty shots of rum discarded in the trash. Add the remains of the broken pint of vodka on the floor and she looks like a raging alcoholic.
She didn't drink all of those by herself, Ann had a few but she doubts that David cares.
"Listen. I'll quit drinking and join one of those stupid AA groups if you'll just leave. Please. Please, David." She's desperate now, trapped between him and hard white wall.
"Yeah, I've heard that before. Why do you drink, anyway? Are you bored? Do you have mommy and daddy issues? Are you insecure? If you ask me, it's all for attention. Rich bitches like you love being in the spotlight and a felony for drinking and driving will definitely attract daddy's eye. At least for a little while."
Like a bull seeing red, anger consumes her, sending sizzling hot blood racing through her veins and coloring her cheeks. She doesn't have to listen to this shit!
"Get the hell out of my house you fucking bastard! Now! Or I, I'll-"
"You'll what? Call the cops?" He mocks, knowing that he has the upper hand.
Instantly turning into a girl version of the hulk, Eve reaches across the countertop and quickly drags a sharp-pointed butcher knife off the cutting board. The sound is grating and deadly.
Awkwardly sticking it out in front of her like a sword, she points the silver blade at him.
David chuckles in amusement, unconcerned by the "dangerous weapon" in the trembling girl's hand. She is anything but threatening. It's actually kind of cute that she thinks she can protect herself from him.
"What are you going to do, Eve? Stab me? You're a scared little brat and you'd never have the balls to-"
Eve growls and fuelled by rage, fear and revenge, she lunges at him. Gripping the handle with both hands and raising the knife above her head, she drags the razor sharp blade down his chest.
David's green eyes widen in surprise as the weapon slices through his white t-shirt and into his smooth, bare flesh. He instantly drops the bag and quickly grabs her by her delicate wrists. He easily wrestles the knife out of her hands and throws it far across the living room and out of sight.
"YOU FUCKING BITCH!" He growls viciously, the sound almost inhumane. David stares down at his blood stained torso. There's a deep diagonal cut running from the upper left side of his chest to the edge of his sternum. Thank God she missed his nipple.
His muscles contract in building pain with every breath he takes. His rage is barely contained, he can feel it clawing under his skin, desperate to break free and unleash its reign of terror.
Spinning Eve around in his powerful arms, he locks her against his chest in a crushing bear hug. It hurts like hell but he doesn't care. He can't believe the cunt stabbed him! The sticky wet shirt plasters against his burning skin and he grips her hair, jerking her head back until their eyes meet.
"Do you have a fucking death wish?!" His voice is filled with steel nails and Eve trembles in his tight embrace. Her fear makes her fight for freedom and her squirming body rubs and grinds against his crotch. His dick pulsates in excitement and it pisses him off. He wants to strangle her, steal her last breath but his cock wants to reap its vengeance on her tight, little pussy.
"I should fucking kill you." He remarks icily, his words chilling her bones.
"I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me! I got scared!"
Eve's anger evaporated the moment she saw blood. She's never stabbed anyone before and she didn't mean to hurt him. She'd just been amped up and he had provoked her. She'd wanted revenge for a while but not at the risk of attempted murder!
"Where's your bathroom?" David hisses as he snatches his duffle bag off the kitchen floor.
"It-it's down the hall, to the left." Eve says, trying her best to remain calm.
Uncurling his arms to let her breathe, he grabs her hand and yanks her into the bathroom with him before abruptly slamming the door shut behind them.
Oh god. Eve realizes that she's trapped in a cage with a feral, wounded beast. It reminds her of the jail cell.
"Don't. Fucking. Move." He accentuates each word as if scolding a naughty child.
Tension, the scent of blood and David's subtle aftershave fills the silent room.
Another string of apologies are tangled in Eve's throat and all she can do is nod in response.
David peels off his torn, soaked shirt and throws it on the floor. The wound isn't fatal but he's bleeding, in pain and pissed off.
Eve stares at his reflection in the mirror as blood seeps out of the long gash. She hopes that he won't need stitches.
"I'm sorry." She mumbles futilely, her arms tightly crossed over her chest to protect herself from a verbal or physical attack. She knows what he's capable of, the pain and revenge that he can inflict on her delicate body.
A murderous look flashes in David's eyes. He grabs a clean washcloth off the towel rack and he turns on the faucet. Drenching the rag in cold water and a little soap, he carefully begins cleaning the cut. It isn't as terrible as he thought, at least not bad enough for stitches. As he concentrates on the wound a bit of his fury fades away.
"Do you have a first aid kit?"
