8. Adam #2
Smiling, I brought her hands up and kissed them before standing. "I'm a businessman," I told her as I walked back to the kitchen. "I own a string of clubs in Portland, along with a financial firm. I'm pretty hands-off now in my career, hence why I'm able to be here in Seaside and not in the city."
I wasn't lying to her, technically. I was a legit businessman with a business degree.
I just omitted the part about my businesses being tied to the mafia, that's all. I mean, tiny nuances, not like they mattered. It was something she didn’t strictly need to know.
I didn't do horrendous things, just some drug selling, money laundering, loan-sharking, gambling, and maybe some prostitution here and there—all voluntary of course, maybe some mild coercion when necessary.
It wasn't like I trafficked humans or did anything untoward to the elderly or minors.
Smirking, I gave myself a little ego boost, "I have supervisors and managers overseeing everything while I reap the rewards from the comfort of my own home."
As I busied myself with making some food for Asher, I heard a scoff and a dry chuckle. "If you're trying to see if I'm a gold digger, then you can stop waving the stack of cash." She sounded a little offended, but I couldn't tell for sure because I wasn't facing her.
"Eliza, I'm not that kind of asshole, and I know you're not one," I replied, chuckling and rolling my eyes.
"You're a good person, little rose, and don't argue because I'm good at reading people. Even if I wasn’t, every interaction we’ve had involving money so far has shown me you’re not.
" I was extremely good at reading people.
" In my line of work, I had learned hard and fast how to hone that particular skill-set. It came early in my career, after being too soft-hearted caused me to be duped into believing one too many sob stories, only to later find the culprits with their hands in the proverbial cookie jar. Thankfully, I hadn’t been played enough to lose territory or business, which is how I became a mafia head.
While plating Asher's food, I changed the subject. "What do you want for lunch and dinner later?" Pulling a chair next to Asher's, I situated myself and presented the small plate of food to the toddler, who responded with a happy scream and clap of his hands.
My eyes glanced over to Eliza, watching her chew her fork for a moment before replying, "Uhh, I'll just bring myself a sandwich for lunch, and you don't have to worry about dinner or anything, I'll be okay to feed myself."
Yeah, no, not on my watch.
Rejecting her words, I shook my head. "Nope, I am going to be your personal chef for the next twenty-seven days, so too bad," I jabbed with a cheeky chuckle and grin. "Either you give me an answer, or I will make something random."
Grumbling, she narrowed her eyes at me for a minute before rolling them.
For a moment, I thought I'd won until she made one last ditch effort.
"W-well what if I want a sandwich for lunch?
" It was a shaky retort, making me roll my eyes back at her and chuckle in response.
"What if I want a simple ham sandwich? Hm? "
Little smartass.
Too bad I was smarter.
Smirking, I leaned my elbow onto the edge of the table, propping my cheek against my fist. "Then I'll make the best ham sandwich for you, jammed packed with the best ham ever made to mankind.
" Okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch, but I had to exaggerate for effect.
"I'll use the best condiments, and I'll pack you the best fruits and vegetables, the freshest of the fresh. " Alright, I was being over the top.
Groaning in defeat, Eliza threw her head back and arms up. "I'm not winning with you," she admitted begrudgingly, glaring at me playfully before going back to finish her breakfast with a rather satisfied smile.
Even though the morning so far had been going swimmingly, her sense of unease crept through the air like a steady annoyance to me. Unfortunately, as irked as it made me, I couldn't blame her for it.
I literally barged into her life and hunkered down very stubbornly. On the bright side, she wasn't locked away in my basement, as tempting as it was.
The more I entertained the idea of forcing my hand with her, the less appealing it became to me. Don't get me wrong, I'd do it at the very end if all my other efforts met a dead-end.
It'd been so long since I felt this kind of energizing excitement.
The kind that constantly buzzed at the end of every nerve fiber in your body until you were forced to act, or you'd risk exploding from all the pent-up energy.
This thrill of the chase, for a woman. Fuck, I hadn't felt like this since my younger years, and it was too riveting to let go of.
Yet, even back in my crazy and hormonal years, I never wanted a woman as badly as I did Eliza. If a woman rejected me back then after some effort, then that was it. I never pushed or persisted because there was no urge or need to have them, nor did I ever feel the motivation to possess them.
In all this time, I’d never had the desire to have a woman so fully by my side, nor did I care enough to put forth so much effort.
Until a little rosebud took root and bloomed right in my path.
Eliza really was a breath of fresh air, as cliché as it sounded.
Nearly every moment of my day-to-day life followed the same routine, with minimal deviations.
That wasn’t the case anymore. No, ever since I met this woman, and especially since I’d gotten my hooks into her, my life had started to feel like an adventure.
My dull life had been turned completely around.
I felt like I had walked into a scene from the gardens of Eden—she was the forbidden fruit and I couldn’t wait to take that first bite.
No matter how long it took, I'd get that forbidden fruit.
I wouldn't stop until Eliza was in my arms, and my lips upon on hers.
There's no stopping me until I've tasted and marked every inch of her divine body and claimed it as mine.
Until my name fell from her lips like a prayer while I was buried deep inside of her, I wouldn't stop.
Slowly but surely, I'd get her to worship me on her knees, make her look up at me as if I were her god.
Once I got her under me, I’d fill her with my cock, make her scream my name, and pump her full of my seed. Eliza would be mine.
Fuck, to fill her and breed her precious body, the thought made me almost feral. We'd have the perfect babies—she was already the perfect mother. So, giving her more babies just made sense.
"Uhh, Adam?" Her sweet but wary voice cut through the fog of my thoughts, making me snap out of it.
Looking at her, I watched her body shy away from me a little. "Adam, are you okay? Did I say or do something to upset you? You got really quiet and serious, and you're looking at me really intensely." Her soft eyes grew worried and jittery as she reached a hand out and placed it on Asher.
A deep breath relaxed my body, and I slowly leaned back a little in my seat to give her the illusion of space while smiling at her apologetically.
"Sorry, it's nothing directed at you or anything like that.
A small situation from work crossed my mind at the wrong time," I lied smoothly with another reassuring smile. "It really isn't you, promise."
Telling her the truth was not an option, not unless I wanted to scare her off and make my life harder. "Also, I could never be upset at you," I scoffed playfully with a warm chuckle.
Eliza's smile faltered to a flat one as she averted her gaze. "That's what they all say…" I faintly heard her mumbling words before Asher's happy scream drowned her out completely.
Curiosity tempted me to press her to find out what she meant, but for the sake of keeping some peace between us, I zipped my lips.
Clearing my throat, I put on my best charming smile. "You know, you don't have to take Asher with you to work. I can always watch him for you," I offered while picking some spilled food off the table and feeding it to Asher. "It will really make things easier for you."
Eliza's smile tensed up with a deep breath.
"It's fine. I prefer to work with him around.
It kind of gives me some ease and peace of mind.
" A look of realization shocked her face, and she instantly held her waving hands up in denial.
In a flurry, her words flew out, "Not that I'm saying you're a bad person and that I don't trust you or anything with Asher, because I would.
It's just I have attachment issues with him and separation anxiety. "
A light-hearted chuckle trembled at my body. "Eliza, it's fine," I assured her.
Reaching over, I stopped her frantic hands by grabbing them and holding them together.
"Really, it is, and I totally understand.
" The warmth in my voice meant they weren't empty words.
"It's been just you and Asher for a while, and you're his mother.
So, it's natural for you to want him around for peace of mind.
You really don't have to try and explain yourself. Asher is your baby, little rose. You set the rules for his care, no one can take that from you. Don’t let them. "
Settling her hands down on the table, I kept mine over hers comfortingly. "I've seen my sister and her kid, so I really do understand."
It probably wasn't too healthy at this point, but if this was how she'd been doing things ever since he was born, then who was I to break such a comfort routine. The last thing I wanted to do was send her into some kind of mental breakdown or episode of sorts because I ruined her ways.