Page 24 of Chemistry: The Chemist

I won’t.

“Fuck. Fuu?—”

She fell into the seat at once. Her sprinkler went off, spraying my mouth, chest, and the back of the passenger seat.

A tilted head and nod displayed the pride I harbored. Not for me, but for Eden.

She’d been a good fucking girl. She’d be rewarded as such. A bunch of dick and the night of her life would be the ultimate prize.

She was beauty and she was beastly. I knew, without a doubt, when I slid inside of her all hell would break loose. A sucker for adventure, I was prepared for the rollercoaster waiting. Because that was exactly what the fuck Eden would be. A wild ride. I could feel it in my dark, tainted soul.

“Chemistry,” I muttered, analyzing her half-naked body as she fought to regain her composure.

A piece of art.

Her masterpiece hanging over the mantle in the living room was easily envisioned and duly noted.

With low lids and unsteady breathing, she asked, “Hm?”

“We are arriving.”

We’d reached our destination. The familiar scent of nothingness the water carried settled his heart. The comfort it provided was the reason I’d purchased property and had a home built on the edge of the city where water was plentiful and the views were immaculate. Seclusion was among the reasons I’d chosen the location as well.

Hidden in plain sight.

Carefully, I gathered her limbs in my hands with her shoes dangling from my middle and forefingers. The bag she’d brought along hung over my shoulder. It wasn’t until we’d crossed the threshold, made it through the main wing, and entered the left wing of my home where a pole had been placed within the last twenty-five minutes that I lowered her.

A lone chair was a mere three feet away from it. An unopened bottle of Brandy sat beside it, along with a glass. Eden’s feet touched the marble floors beneath us.

Slowly, she pushed forward. Seduction oozed from her frame. She was naturally gifted with a presence that was as alluring as it was addictive. I wasn’t a user, but I’d be damned if I hadn’t found a drug worth giving a try.

“Where am I?”

Eyes still covered, she turned in a circle as if she could see.

“Feels big… broad. Tell me,” she said just above a whisper.

Chemistry. My name resurfaced.

Chemistry.

Chemistry.

Chemistry.

I wanted the syllables to fall from her lips. Roll off her tongue. Coat her skin. Smear her makeup. Fill her to capacity.

She was becoming the exception. Rapidly growing on me, in me, through me, with me. I’d known her less than three hours and was certain she’d have my last name.

There wasn’t a woman in Clarke who hadn’t gone to school with me, filled out my medical forms, issued my identification, or was part of my family who even knew I had a fucking last name.

Or a first one.

Names weren’t important. Positions were. Benefits were. Funds were.

Home.

“My home.”

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