Page 84 of My Sweetest Temptation

Had she lost someone? Had she witnessed a murder?

The thought sent a shiver down my spine as I imagined an innocent Winter watching someone she loved take their last breath.

Taking a life left an unforgettable mark, a change that forever altered one’s perception of right and wrong. It changed you, making you question everything you thought you knew—what you believed was right was wrong, and what was wrong was right.

As the waiter cleared our plates, a woman drifted past, her arms cradling a basket of red roses. She paused at our table, and with a quick, fluid motion, I reached for a rose and slipped a few bills into the woman’s hand. She smiled at me, her voice sweet as she thanked me in Italian.

I extended the single rose toward Winter. “You know,” I began, “they say red roses symbolize love and passion, even with their thorns.” I watched her eyes, the subtle flicker of curiosity; she probably wondered what bullshit was going to spill out of my mouth. “But black roses,” I continued, my gaze unwavering, “symbolize death and the inability to find love. Do you think even the most twisted souls are capable of love?”

She contemplated that for a moment, her expression thoughtful. “I believe anyone can love,” she replied slowly. “But it takes courage to open your heart and believe you deserve it.”

I smiled. “And that’s why your light and strength remind me that there is still beauty in this fucked up world.”

She tilted her head back and let out a sound that resonated deep within my soul. “Too cheesy?” I asked, a smirk creeping onto my lips.

She shook her head, a genuine smile breaking across her face. “No, it’s perfect.”

We shared a moment, our smiles lingering like a promise that would most likely destroy me in the end but be so fucking worth it.

A quartet paused at our table, interrupting our moment of bliss, and played a cover of “Unchained Melody.” Winter brought the rose to her nose, inhaling its scent, and closed her eyes, swaying gently to the music as if she was lost in a dream, untouched by the outside world.

I couldn’t tear my gaze away from her. She was like my own brand of drug, a potent elixir coursing through my veins, igniting a hunger that I couldn’t escape. All common sense faded with the pull of her presence. I felt the weight of my addiction, knowing that she was both my salvation and my undoing.

WINTER

“Thank you for tonight,” I told Nico. “I had an amazing time.”

He looked at me with softness—something I was not used to seeing from him. He had been looking at me that way all night, setting off a wave of desire that made me want him even more. But it also scared me. I could feel myself falling hard for him—a man who was older than me and more experienced—and the nagging worry crept in that he might wake up and decide I was not worth his time.

I gave him a smile, my heart fluttering as I reached for the door handle, but he caught my wrist with a gentle yet firm grip. His hand slid to my neck, pulling me closer. “I’m not ready to say good night,” he murmured, his voice deep and husky. He squeezed my neck just enough to send a tingling sensation through me, then kissed my forehead softly.

With a swift movement, he shut off the car and climbed out, leaving me breathless. A moment later, my door opened, and he offered his hand. I took it, and he closed the door behind me, never letting go as he led me toward my apartment.

My pulse raced with each step to my door. I fumbled with the key, my hands trembling slightly, as I unlocked it and stepped inside. Nico followed closely, and he locked the door behind us.

I tossed my belongings on the table, but my gaze lingered on him; I was unable to shake the feeling that tonight could change everything. “So… can I get you something to drink?” I asked.

“Yes.” Nico’s response was immediate. “I want you.” His gaze held mine, intense and unwavering.

A wave of heat rushed through my body, and a nervous giggle escaped my lips. I didn’t even know how to respond to that.

I looked away from him and heard his laughter as I made my way to the couch. How could someone’s laugh sound so sexy? I paused on my way to the couch, considering whether I should guide him into my bedroom, but ultimately decided against it.

Lowering myself onto the couch, I began to remove my shoes, but Nico crouched before me, stopping me. “Let me help you with those,” he said softly.

His hand cradled the curve of my heel, fingers gliding over the smooth skin as he supported my foot. With his other hand, he wrapped his fingers around my ankle and slowly eased off my shoe. He repeated the same soothing motion with the other foot.

“Thank you,” I breathed.

Nico stood, his height dominating the space. “Come,” he suggested, his voice seductive as he pulled me up.

My hesitation was brief as my curiosity and desire took over. With our fingers intertwined, we walked down the hall to my bedroom.

My pulse raced as we entered, and I wondered if he could feel the rapid rhythm of my heart. I received my answer when his thumb gently rubbed over the pulse on my wrist.

Nico led us to my bed and sat on the edge, his body relaxed.

“Come here,” he beckoned me. Nico’s legs parted just enough for me to stand between them. He tilted his head slightly, blue eyes locking onto mine. “You want something from me, Winter,” he stated in a low voice.

---