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The scars
EVE’S POV
Sleepy.
My eyes were heavy, drowsy as they watched Adam step out of the bathroom. I had spaced out for a while after my climax, he must have gone to the bathroom then. My body hummed in satisfaction as he approached the bed. He had shrugged off his pants. I had barely seen all of him before my climax and it sucked that he hadn’t touched me.
Perhaps he would now? I wondered as he pulled the covers over me. I shook my head, despite my sedate satate. I couldn’t sleep here. I could not risk what had happened the nightb in paris happening all over again. If Tom arrived and didn’t find me in our suite, he would raise hell. I could never forget what he had done to me trthathat night in Paris.
What woman could? I had read somewhere on the internet, that women who got manhandled by their husbands eventually got used to it.
Every single time Tom had ra
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Adam’s POVIt was hard not to make one. There were several factors that made this deal with Tom so fucking nuts. One, the man himself was a certified bastard. Perhaps my view of him wasn’t entirely professional and I wasn’t bothered about it. A man who raised his hands on his wife, treated her like garbage and yet acted like a damned hog who couldn't keep his dick in his pants, was no less than a bastard.It was agonizing. Sitting close to him in my study, just a table between us, concealing him from my rage. There was that urge to flip the table out of the way and then make true the words I had said to Eve the night before.“Mr Stone?” Tom’s voice crashed whatever thoughts came after that. I was reminded of the harsh present where I was. I had to check the damned property Harrison was hell bent on showing me. His confidence about the property was encouraging, but there see
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