Play With Me(31)

“The building belongs to my stepfather.” Her answer came out on a hoarse croak. “When he got sick, it kinda became my responsibility.”

Ah… Now they were getting somewhere.

“Is he…” Murphy hated to ask the question.

Eve shook her head furiously. “Oh no, he’s still alive and for the most part well. About six months ago I moved him into a local assisted-living facility. He has Alzheimer’s.”

Chase and he both nodded. She’d spoken the words calmly enough, although the frown lines on her forehead made him curious. There was definitely more to her story.

Presuming they were satisfied, she returned to her meal and they all finished in silence. When all the food and drink had been consumed and Chase’s office restored to order, Murphy pulled Eve between them.

“You certainly don’t offer much detail about yourself, do you?”

She blinked up at him. “I didn’t think it mattered here. I do my job, whatever that may be, then I go home to my personal life and trudge through that.”

“See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Why are you trudging along? Honestly, Eve, that doesn’t sound fun at all.” Murphy reached for another lock of her hair and twirled it between his fingers. He needed to stop thinking about sex, but he couldn’t stop touching her.

“Today was the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” she whispered.

“Why? What’s been holding you back?” Chase asked.

A deep sigh sounded from Eve, compressing her tighter in his arms.

“You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

“No.” They answered in unison.

Eve pushed and wiggled from their embrace. She moved away from them, and this time they let her go. “A few years ago, my mother got sick. Cancer.”

Murphy’s heart sank at the gravelly, pain-filled sound of her voice.

“My stepfather’s dementia was still in its early stages, but he refused to help her. He claimed his work required more of his attention, and since he was the sole breadwinner in the family, I moved in to help my mom.”

“Nice guy.” Murphy couldn’t resist the jab. Assholes like him were everywhere.

“You don’t know the half of it.” Her hands twisted together in her lap. Likely a subconscious move.

“Why don’t you tell us,” Chase interjected.

“Suffice it to say, my stepdad would definitely not win any awards for parenting or being a husband. My mom was everything that held the family together, and her death changed everything.”

“Changed how?” Murphy had to work at not pulling her into his arms. Eve was a proud woman, and he sensed she needed the little bit of distance at the moment.

“I’d always planned to strike out on my own, find my way in the world, and no sooner did I get out, I was pulled back in again. So when my mom’s cancer took a turn for the worse, I started making plans for the future.” She jumped up from the sofa and strode across the room and back again.

“And?” Chase sounded as impatient as he felt.

“Her last wish was that I take care of Jim. That’s my stepdad. By the time of her death, his Alzheimer’s had progressed to the point he needed a lot more help than I could give. So she made me promise not to leave him, to ensure he was well taken care of.”

“So that’s why you live in the building. You’re taking care of it for him.”

“Yes.”

“That’s an awful lot of responsibility you’ve been carrying around for a while.”

She came within reach on her latest pass of the room, and Murphy jerked her onto his lap. Eve squeaked when she fell. He dropped a kiss on her forehead. Then frowned.

“Where does the money for this building come from? Did your stepfather set up a trust for you before his health declined?”

Eve dug her teeth into her bottom lip. “No, he refused to trust me with his money. He was convinced I couldn’t handle it. Even now on his rare lucid occasions he complains. Now all the money goes to his care.”

“Hence your job here, then.” Chase touched her cheek, and she leaned into his hand.

She was drowning in a sea of responsibility and had chosen them to share her pain. By trusting in them enough to act out her fantasies and needs.

“This half life you’ve been living isn’t much of a life at all. Certainly not the one you need.” Chase tangled his fingers in her hair and tugged her head back until their gazes met.

“Why did you start crying?” Chase questioned her.

Murphy watched the play-by-play between them. The heat they exchanged without even realizing it.

“Tell me.”

“You called me submissive.”

The expression on Chase’s face changed. Nothing overtly obvious, but to someone who’d known him for twenty years it was obvious. The slight flattening of his lips, the shuttered lids, and even the slight flare of his nose.

“You don’t like being called a sub?”

“Chase, I don’t think I’m truly submissive. Yes, I have a lot of kinky fantasies and being tied up gives me a sense of freedom I can’t get any other way, but I like to be in control of my own life. Not following someone else’s will. I’ve done enough of that in my life.”