Wired For Sex: A.D.A.M. Page 4

She couldn't breathe at all for a moment. “Evelyn,” she croaked finally, correcting him, determined to ignore the fact that her insides had gone all weak and watery when he had said her name—from the way he had said it.

  He shifted, obviously uncomfortable.

  Good!

  "Did I hurt you?"

  She felt her face redden until it felt like it would burst into flames. She flicked a quick look up at him and then down again. “Now's the time to ask,” she retorted in an angry hiss. “But, no. You didn't. Why don't we just pretend it didn't happen?"

  He said nothing for several moments. “Why?"

  Instead of responding to the question hanging between them like dirty laundry, she suddenly remembered her missing panties. “Do you have my panties?” she asked quietly through gritted teeth.

  He shoved a hand in his pocket and dragged them out. She stared in horror at the black lace swinging from one finger. Snatching them from him, she quickly stuffed them into the lower drawer of her desk next to her purse.

  He stood in front of her desk for several moments more and finally turned and left. Relief warred with anger and the urge to burst into tears as she surreptitiously watched him leave.

  "Asshole,” she muttered under her breath, wishing she hadn't been so tongue tied she could have given him a thorough tongue lashing. “Why, he asks."

  Why had he asked why, she wondered abruptly. Wasn't it obvious why she wanted to put it behind her and forget it?

  Why would he want it any other way, particularly since he hadn't gotten anything out of it to start with?

  Because he hadn't, she decided. He wanted another shot at it!

  On a cold day in hell, maybe!

  * * * *

  It was nothing short of amazing, Evelyn thought three days later when she ducked into the nearest office to avoid meeting up with Adam in the hallway. In all the time he had worked at Robotics Inc. she had rarely seen him—just a tantalizing glimpse from time to time, maybe on the elevator, passing through Mr. Johnson's office suite—never enough to fulfill the yearning she had for the man. Now, when she all she wanted to do was to avoid him, she saw him a half a dozen times a day.

  If she hadn't known better, she would have thought the man was stalking her!

  Ignoring the curious stares of the people inside the office she had chosen to hide in, she waited until she thought he'd had time to vanish on his rounds and then peered out into the corridor cautiously. Seeing no sign of Adam, she released a sigh of relief and headed back to her office, glancing at her watch to see if the detour had made her late.

  She had just congratulated herself on making it with ten minutes to spare when the door to the stairwell opened nearly beside her. Her head swiveled automatically in that direction to see who had come out of the stairs.

  Adam, a determined set to his jaw, was standing in the door. Even as her jaw slid to half mast, he grabbed her wrist and gave her a yank that snatched her through the door. The door banged shut behind her, but she barely registered it.

  "Why are you hiding from me?” he demanded, his expression a mixture of confusion and anger.

  Evelyn felt her face heat. “I wasn't hiding,” she lied.

  A thick blond brow rose in disbelief, but doubt flickered in his eyes. “You're lying,” he said finally.

  Evelyn glared at him indignantly. “Alright!” she snapped. “So I was avoiding you."

  "Why?"

  "Because I don't want to talk about it, and I had the distinct impression you did!"

  Frustration creased his handsome features. “I need to know why."

  "Why?"

  "Yes."

  "I mean, why do you feel a need to know why?” she demanded. “Obviously it didn't mean a damned thing to you! You didn't even get anything out of it. I'd think you would be avoiding me instead off the other way around!"

  He seemed to think that over for several moments, his brow furrowing. “You're angry because I didn't come?"

  "Don't even go there! That wasn't my fault!"

  His complexion reddened. “No. It wasn't.” He looked uncomfortable. “I thought I'd hurt you."

  Evelyn gaped at him, trying to wrap her mind around it. “Oh, yeah—good one. So now you want to take up where we left off?"

  "Yes ... thank you."

  Evelyn sent him a look of disbelief. “No—Thank you. You thanked me last time, remember? And the answer is no! I'm good for the next millennia, thank you very much, and if you're not that's just too damned bad! You had your chance, and you blew it!"

  He caught her arm as she turned away from him and grabbed the door lever, pulling her hand free and whirling her to face him again. “I'll do better this time."

  "No, you won't! Because there isn't going to be a...."

  He planted his mouth squarely over hers in the midst of her diatribe, cutting her off mid sentence. Her back bumped against the door as he shifted closer, pressing against her. Dizziness swept through her as their mouths connected. The urgency of his touch, the heat of his mouth, sent a jolt of electricity spiraling through her to form a molten pool in her sex.

  He had the perfect mouth, she thought hazily—not too big, not too hard, not to wet—and he knew how to use it. He tasted absolutely divine. The heated stroke of his tongue along hers felt like heaven, made her entire body clench with need.

  She could drown in the sea of bliss he created with no more than the caress of his mouth, could go on kissing him forever.

  Unfortunately, the ‘forever’ thought kick started her brain again.

  She was due back at her desk.

  They were standing in the stairwell, for god's sake, in the middle of the work day!

  She pushed at him as he came up for air and transferred his attention from her mouth to her throat and neck and ear. “No, Adam!” she gasped weakly, pushing at him ineffectually. “Somebody will see."

  "Not here,” he muttered, obviously completely focused on his quest to explore her collar bone, which brought her to the realization that he had unbuttoned her blouse to the waistband of her skirt.

  She ducked away from him, managing to free herself from the cage of his body and the door. His expression as she backed toward the stairs was filled with need, his eyes glazed with it. Her body responded, flushing with more heat, but she shook her head resolutely. “I know it was my idea the last time,” she said shakily, “and I've got no right to complain, but I don't like being used and discarded, Adam Mercury. Find somebody else."

  He shook his head, advancing on her. “I don't want anyone else, Evie. I want you."

  Anger flared as he caught her, pulling her close again. “You're saying that because you want to fuck me. You don't mean it."

  Confusion flickered across his features, but he dismissed whatever doubts plagued him, swooping to capture her mouth again, no doubt because he knew she was lost if he started kissing her again.

  Chapter Five

  The heel of her shoe, Evelyn discovered as she tried to evade him again, was against the lowest stair. She tipped backwards, sucking in a sharp gasp as she felt herself falling. He caught her, somehow slowing, cushioning her fall as he followed her down and then used his superior position to his advantage. His knee slipped between her sprawled thighs, making it impossible to clamp them together again.

  She might have tried anyway except that he scooped one breast from the cup of her bra in almost the same movement, covering it with the heat of his mouth and turning her brain to mush as he sucked the turgid tip. For a moment, she struggled against the rising tide of desire, shoving against him and trying to wiggle out from under him, but the pleasure won out over reason and the hurt anger that still simmered beneath the surface.

  His panting breaths as he released her tortured flesh and moved to her other breast made her skin pebble. She shivered as cool air caressed the damp nipple he had released, sucked in a sharp breath as he caught the other in his mouth and sucked it. Her womb contracted at the tug of his mouth. Moisture gushed into her
channel, slickening the walls of her sex.

  She wasn't even aware he had reached beneath her skirt until she felt his hand glide between his knee and her sex, felt his hand coast lightly across her silk panties before he reached for the crotch and shoved it out of his way.

  "Don't you dare tear.... “She broke off, uttering a choked grunt as he found the mouth of her sex with his finger and pushed it inside of her. “Adam!” she gasped when she could catch her breath, surging mindlessly against his hand as he stroked her with his finger.

  He withdrew it. Moving above her, he leaned down to kiss her, supporting himself with one arm while he tugged at the opening of his trousers with the other. She felt the rounded head of his cock pressing into her opening, breaching the clinging flesh, sliding deeply inside of her.

  She dug her nails into his arms as he surged into her, gasping at the wealth of sensations that pelted her. Withdrawing until he was almost free of her channel, he thrust again, a slow, sweeping stroke that caressed her channel from beginning to end and set off waves of intense pleasure that had her shaking within moments, quivering with the rising need.

  As if he sensed her imminent release, he began to move faster, bringing the shocks of pleasure closer and closer together until she was panting for breath. He began to shake as she came, and her passage clenched tightly around his cock. A shudder went through him and then a harder one. Collapsing against her, he groaned, jerking as his seed spilled into her.

  Discomfort roused her from her sated bliss far more quickly than he recovered, and as it did, full awareness returned. She stared up at the zigzagging stairs above her, felt the grit of dirt beneath her buttocks, the cold of the concrete stairs, and the ridge of the one stair digging into her back. Shoving at his shoulder, she pushed until he grunted and moved off of her.

  "You inconsiderate asshole!” she growled. “Well! I hope you're happy! Now I'm dripping cum, and I've got to go back to work—and I'm late!"

  "Evie,” he groaned weakly, reaching for her, trying to catch her hand. “Don't...."

  She slapped his hand away and evaded him, trying to right her clothes as she scrambled back down the stairs. “Now we're even,” she said tightly when she had grabbed the lever on the door.

  * * * *

  Too weak to move, Adam stared at the door in consternation as she slipped through it and disappeared, wondering dimly what he had done wrong this time.

  He was in no state to try to understand the intricacies of human emotions at the moment. His brain was too sluggish to provide much more than life support. He felt completely drained of energy. The weakness alarmed him. He could not believe it was a natural side effect of sexual intercourse and lay wondering for some minutes if he would continue to decline until his heart simply stopped.

  It ceased to pound frantically after a short time, and, although he still felt more inclined to sleep, he discovered he had recovered enough strength to push himself upright.

  It was as he reached down to tuck his flaccid member back into his trousers that it finally rang through his head what Evelyn had snarled at him about.

  He had climaxed, spilled his seed into her.

  He stared at his member blankly for several moments.

  Simulated, he wondered? Or real?

  The latter seemed unlikely, despite the fact that he knew he was constructed of more biological materials than synthetics and metal. He was still an android, not real.

  Anger flickered to life inside him then.

  Why was he not real, he wondered abruptly?

  He felt ... everything.

  He did not know, exactly, when he had begun to feel the emotions he so carefully noted among the humans and emulated, but he had. Hydraulics controlled his titanium skeletal system, but blood flowed through the biologicals—he bled. Nerves fed signals to the biological part of his brain, even though electronic sensors sent data to his CPU. He was more than half biological.

  What constituted being human?

  He had not been born of mankind.

  And he would not, could not ever produce young of his own.

  The anger flared again, but a tightness swelled in his throat that he recognized as sorrow. He had not given Evie his seed, only the lifeless lubricant that should have carried it. He could give her pleasure. He could take pleasure from the release that came from fucking Evie, but the painful truth was it was still an emulation of humans. He could not procreate, which was the main purpose of sexual intercourse. It was merely incidental that it was also pleasurable.

  He should have thought about the discomfort Evie would feel afterward, he realized, but then he had not come before. He had not really thought beyond the need to find release and try to make her happy so that she would not be angry with him any more.

  He was almost regretful, now, that he had decided to have sex with her. Before, she had always smiled at him and spoken to him pleasantly. Before, she had looked at him in a way that made him feel good. Now she would not look at him at all except angrily.

  He got up finally, straightened his clothes, and returned to his tasks because he did not know what else to do, but he pondered the problem of Evie as he went about his job, sifting, collating, comparing the situation with the scenarios in his data banks.

  By the time the day shift was over, he had come to several conclusions.

  He needed Evie. Even if he was only a machine, he was miserable because he had somehow made her unhappy, and he could not bear to think of simply leaving it that way. He had to try to find out what he had done to make her unhappy and fix it.

  He wanted Evie, because, android or not, he desired her and no one else. It was no longer about proving to his father that he was worthy of his approval. It was about Evie, the way she made him feel, the way it made him feel to give her pleasure.

  The misery he felt when she shunned him.

  She did not want to talk to him while she was working, and, truthfully, there were very few places where it would be safe for him to try to talk to her.

  He would go to her home, he decided. He could not tell her what he was. If he did, she would behave toward him as his father did and all the others who knew what he was, and he did not think he could bear if Evie looked at him that way. But he would find a way to make her understand that he had not intentionally made her unhappy. He just did not understand what he had done that had. If she would just explain it to him, he would make it right.

  * * * *

  Thinking back—which she had not wanted to do before—it occurred to Evelyn to wonder if she had misjudged Adam. She supposed she should have considered whether or not she was jumping to conclusions right off, but she had been too upset to think clearly, too wrapped up in her own feelings to consider his. She realized once she had allowed herself to resurrect the memory, though, that Adam had looked upset and confused when he had left that night, not cold and indifferent, and certainly not gloating.

  Had she misjudged him? Had she actually seen the hurt and confusion she now thought she had? Or was she just remembering it that way now because she wanted to believe what he had told her, that he had stopped because he was afraid he had hurt her?

  She had pined over the man almost from the time he had first been introduced as the new head of security. Unfortunately, she knew pretty much every other woman in the office had, too, and she realized that that had colored her perception of what had happened between her and Adam—that and her own insecurities.

  He had seemed completely sincere, though, when he had explained leaving so abruptly that night. He had looked both uncomfortable and embarrassed at the confession. Would he have felt that way if, as she had first assumed, he had only had sex with her to humiliate or somehow punish her for bothering him? Maybe even as a lesson to the women of the office in general who were no doubt driving him crazy panting after him? If he was like that, would it even occur to him that he should be embarrassed and ashamed?

  She didn't think so, and she was obliged to admit she had not gotten the
impression, before, that he was that kind of person. She had thought he was shy.

  Every time she smiled at him, he smiled back, but then his gaze would slide away in a way she had interpreted as bashful. He certainly was not oblivious to the attention he got whenever he strode through the offices of Robotics Inc. and she knew if he had taken any of the other women up on their offers, the gossip would have spread through the building like wildfire.

  That was why she had concluded that he was shy—with women.

  She had actually worried that he might be gay because he ignored the women—and it had occurred to her after they'd had sex that that might have been the reason he had pulled out without finding his own release, but it had never really fit. He had been so—passionate up until that moment that it had shot her own excitement through the roof, made her come so fast she had barely gotten the chance to enjoy it. And, although he seemed more comfortable around the men, and the men looked up to him, she had not actually seen anything to indicate he was more interested, sexually, in men than women.

  So, maybe she was right about him to start with and he was shy?

  Inexperienced?

  That was hard to swallow even though she wanted to.

  He was just too gorgeous. In their office alone he'd had a zillion opportunities. Shy or not, he would have been jumped by plenty of women even if he was too shy to initiate.

  Some of it just did not fit, no matter how hard she worked to make it fit. He had seemed sincere, and she didn't think she was making things up in her mind about him, so he had been worried and upset that night—about something. If it wasn't actually concern that he had hurt her, and she didn't see how that could be the case unless he had had no prior experience—maybe he had been worried about it getting out that they'd had sex on the conference table?

  That didn't really seem to fit either.

  She gave up on trying to figure it out after a while and turned her mind to trying to decide what the incident in the stairwell constituted—besides wild, deeply satisfying sex.

  She had still been too angry with him and irritated about being seduced into doing anything so crazy as to have sex in the middle of the day in the office when the chances of being caught had been huge, to consider before what it might mean. Apology? Or just the chance to get what he had missed before?